The Orphan's Tale(64)

But she nods grimly. “You mustn’t lose hope. There could well be records.”

“I wanted to tell you.” Instead, I had been too cowardly.

“And the mayor’s son, does he know?”

I shake my head. “No one else knows. Only you.”

She stares at me. Several seconds of silence pass between us. Will she order me to leave the circus? It is the worst possible timing, of course; Theo is too sick to travel and I won’t go without him. “Are you mad?” I ask finally.

“I want to be. But it isn’t my place. You made a mistake, as we all do. And you paid dearly for it.” My shoulders slump with relief. She has forgiven me.

My worries bubble up again. “Just one more thing,” I say, and she braces, as though I’m about to reveal another secret, even worse. “You won’t tell the others, will you?”

“No. They cannot know,” she agrees. “Others might not be so understanding. No more secrets, though.”

I nod gratefully. “Agreed.”

“But Noa,” Astrid says, “you need to stop seeing him. I understand the mistake you made in the past. You were young and you could not help it. This thing with the mayor’s son is different, though. Surely you can see the danger you are bringing to Theo and to all of us.”

I open my mouth to protest. I want to tell her again that Luc is nothing at all like his father. But outsiders spell danger for Astrid and the others at the circus. She has forgiven my awful truth about the German. Giving up Luc is the price I am to pay in exchange.

Astrid is watching me closely, waiting for my answer. “All right,” I manage at last. I scarcely know Luc, but the notion of giving him up hurts more than it should.

“Promise?” she presses, still not satisfied.

“I swear it,” I say solemnly, though the idea of never seeing Luc again makes my insides ache.

“Good,” she says, seeming satisfied. “We should head back to the sleeper.”

“What about Theo?”

She looks toward Berta, who nods. “Now that his fever has broken, he’s well enough to go back.” Astrid stands and starts in the direction of the sleeper car. Then she stops and turns back, her face falling. “My body...” she frets, referring once more to her pregnancy. “If I can no longer fly...” It is not vanity. Performing is her means of survival and she worries that the baby will change all that.

“My body bounced right back after I had the baby.” How strange it feels to be able to say that openly, at least to her. “Yours will, too.” I take her arm. “Come, you must be exhausted. How long have you known, anyway?” I ask in a low voice as we move through the dark, still corridor.

“Just a few days. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” she adds. I nod, trying not to feel hurt. “It was just hard to accept myself, much less tell anyone else.”

“I understand,” I reply, meaning it. “Does Peter know?”

She nods. “Only him. Please, you mustn’t tell anyone,” she begs, trusting me now to keep her secret where before I had not. I nod. I would sooner die than tell.

“Having a child,” she says, “it’s terrifying.”

“How far along are you?” I fear I am asking her too many questions, but I cannot help it.

“About two months.”

I count on my fingers. “We will be back in the winter quarters with plenty of time.” She is silent, and a puzzled look crosses her face. “You are going back, aren’t you?” I ask.

“Peter doesn’t want us to,” she replies. I am surprised. It is hard to imagine Astrid and Peter anywhere but the circus. Luc had spoken of leaving, too, but of course the notion of going with a boy I had just met was a fantasy. “I’ll go back, though. What other choice do I have? Darmstadt has been my family’s home for centuries.” Other than Berlin, it was all she had known. “But you could leave, you know. Get out before we go back.”

I am unsure how to respond. I had never planned to belong to this misfit group with their odd life. Leaving the circus and fleeing with Theo had always been my goal. I did not have to stay—I was not a prisoner or fugitive. I could thank Herr Neuhoff and pick up Theo and go.

But it is more than just the shelter that keeps me here. Astrid cares for us. She is more family than my own parents had ever been. And I feel part of the circus, as surely as if I had been born here. I am not ready to go—not yet.

“No,” I reply. “Whatever happens now, I am with you.”

At least for now.





16

Astrid

A buzz runs through the train car late Sunday afternoon as we wash our costumes and prepare for the following day. Herr Neuhoff has called a meeting in thirty minutes. The girls around me whisper nervously. What could he possibly want or have to tell us? Though I do not join in their chatter, my stomach tingles with unease. Herr Neuhoff is not one for large gatherings, preferring instead to speak with each performer or laborer individually as needed. These days, the unexpected can only mean trouble.

Noa picks up Theo from the berth and studies his face uneasily. It has been a week since the night he fell ill. The fever had not come back and he looks so healthy I sometimes wonder if the whole thing was a bad dream.

I start to walk from the train car, avoiding the sight of myself in the mirror as I pass. They say there are women who look beautiful in pregnancy and perhaps that is true. I’ve never seen one. The circus women grow fat like cows, sitting around, unable to perform. Their bodies do not quite come back to what they had been. My figure is only slightly changed, the faintest of bumps if one looks closely. But it is just a matter of time.