Darren Craske - The Eleventh Plague

'It was funny the first twenty times, lads, but now it's wearing a bit thin,' said Ruby. 'I've come to ask if you've seen Mr Q – if it's not asking too much to get a straight answer for a change?'

'Straight answer?' chirped Peregrine, scratching his bushy beard. 'From us?'

Jeremiah leaned over to him. 'Maybe she's got us confused with someone else.'

'Could be,' said Peregrine, glancing at his colleague's baggy trousers, red-and-green-striped shirt and carrot-orange wig. 'We do get mistaken for the twins a lot.'

'We heard that,' chorused two Chinese voices from across the platform.

Ruby held up her hands. 'Never mind! I'll go somewhere else for some sense.'

'Good luck with that,' called Peregrine. 'Most people have had some of Jerry's grog so there ain't much sense left in many of 'em. If the boss doesn't show his face soon this party will be over without him!'

'Thanks for reminding me,' said Ruby as she turned away swiftly, bumping headlong into a diminutive Inuit dressed in a smart pinstripe suit, with an off-kilter bow tie at his neck.

'Sorry, Miss Ruby. I did not see you,' the Inuit said, doffing an invisible cap.

'Butter! At last, someone capable of normal conversation,' Ruby said, steering the Inuit away from the cackling clowns. 'If anyone knows where the boss is, it's going to be you.'

Butter beamed up at the pretty knife thrower with besotted eyes.

'Well?' Ruby asked, with a shrug.

'Yes, thank you, Miss Ruby. The party is all going swimming!'

'We've still got a way to go on your English lessons, I see,' said Ruby. 'I meant "Well?" as in "Well…have you seen him?"'

'Seen who?' Butter enquired.

'Who do you think?'

Butter laid his head on one side. 'You can give me a clue, yes?'

'I had better luck with the clowns,' Ruby said under her breath. 'A bossy six-foot-tall conjuror with a shock of silver curls. Ring any bells?'

Butter broke into fits of giggles. 'Oh, Miss Ruby, I have played this game. It is much fun! And now I must guess who you say, yes?'

Ruby was not quite at the end of her tether – but she was making extremely good progress towards it. 'This isn't a game, Butter! I'm asking if you've seen our illustrious leader anywhere.'

'Oh…you mean Mr Quaint?' the Inuit asked.

'Unless you know any other bossy six-foot-tall conjurors with shocks of silver curls?' enquired Ruby.

Butter carefully considered the question. 'No. I do not think that I do.'

'Never mind. I'll find Prometheus and ask him,' Ruby said, turning around.

'Prometheus, yes. I know where the strongman is!' said Butter.

'Yes?' asked Ruby expectantly.

'Yes!' announced Butter with pride.

'You know where Prometheus is?' asked Ruby again, just to be sure.

'Yes!' repeated Butter.

'You're absolutely sure?'

'Yes! Yes!'

'Okay then…so where is he?' Ruby asked.

'He is with Mr Quaint,' the Inuit replied.

Ruby waved goodbye to her tether as it vanished into the distance. She should have won some kind of award for keeping her composure, but as she bent down closer to the Inuit, it was clear that her fixed smile was obviously causing her some discomfort.

'And…why did you not tell me that when I asked?'

'But Miss Ruby, you ask if I have seen Mr Quaint, yes? For which the answer is no, but for where is our strongman, it is yes. Prometheus has a spotty business.'

Ruby waggled her finger in her ear. 'He's got a spotty what?'

'Prometheus says he is going with the boss for "a spotty business down by the docks",' the Inuit confirmed.

It was at times such as this that Ruby had often wished that she had listened to her mother, and learned skills more befitting a young lady than being able to catch a knife between her teeth from twenty yards.

'When did he tell you that?' she asked Butter.

'It has been more than two hours, Miss Ruby.'

'Two hours?' groaned Ruby.

'Something is wrong perhaps?' asked Butter.

'When the boss is involved it's pretty much guaranteed, isn't it?' said Ruby, darting off down the platform and leaving the Inuit in a state of bewilderment. 'I'll find Madame Destine. If anyone can tell me whether Mr Q is actually going to bother showing up to his own farewell party, it's her!'

Ruby pushed through the eclectic collection of circus performers towards a veiled woman kneeling near the front of the brightly decorated steam engine, seemingly immersed in deep conversation with a muscular tiger.

'You naughty pussycat, you should be ashamed of yourself,' the woman said to the tiger, her lilting French accent draping every syllable in silk. 'Peregrine is a dwarf, not one of your cubs.' The tiger growled back its discontent. 'Oui, I am well aware that he is small and furry, but it is not acceptable. You will just have to find something else to snuggle up with at night!' Madame Destine looked up at the white turban-wearing, gangly Indian, holding the tiger's chain. 'I think Rajah has learned his lesson, Kipo. Hopefully Peregrine will no longer have cause for complaint.'

'Bad Rajah! No supper for you,' said Kipo, as he tugged on the tiger's chain and led him back onboard the steam train.

To anyone else this might have seemed a strange affair, but for Ruby Marstrand it was a common occurrence as part of Dr Marvello's Travelling Circus. Surrealism she could handle – it was reality that was sometimes difficult to grasp.

'Destine, thank God I've found you,' she said breathlessly.

The elderly fortune-teller lifted her white lace veil. She was in her seventies, but her complexion was smooth and her misty blue eyes sparkled with youthful vigour. 'Something that I can do for you, ma chere fille?'

'I hope so,' replied a flustered Ruby. 'Mr Q hasn't turned up and Butter says he's gone to the docks with Prometheus. How can this be a farewell party if the guest of honour is nowhere to be found?'

Madame Destine rested her hand upon Ruby's shoulder. 'Calm yourself, child. I can feel your apprehension.' Although her exceptional clairvoyant abilities had been noticeably infrequent of late, Destine was still possessed of her uncanny ability to perceive the emotions of those close to her – not that it was all that difficult on this occasion. 'Do not worry, my sweet. Cornelius has a habit of making a grand entrance. When he arrives I shall let him know how he has worried you so. In the meantime, please try to enjoy yourself. This is a party, n'est-ce pas?'

'It was supposed to be.' Ruby puffed her cheeks in submission and pushed up on her toes, flapping her arms at her sides. 'I'll say one thing: it's going to be awfully quiet around here without Mr Q. You've known him nearly all his life…how on earth are you going to cope whilst he's away in Egypt?'

The Frenchwoman's smile slipped, and she quickly pulled her veil down to cover her face. 'Pardonnez moi, Ruby, I…I have something that I must attend to. Will you please excuse me?'

Ruby grabbed Destine's wrist and tugged her back. 'Destine? Are you…crying?' She brought the fortune-teller into her embrace. 'Oh, sweetheart, don't do that, you'll start me off. Listen, I'll miss him too. We all will. But he'll be back before you know it, you'll see. It'll be like he never even went away!' Ruby gently pushed against Destine's shoulders, hoping to see a smile blossom once more upon her delicate face, but the expression was as cheerless as before. 'What is it? What's wrong?'

Madame Destine looked at the crowd that bustled around them, before leading Ruby to a more secluded area of the platform.

'I am afraid that it is not just Cornelius whom the circus will miss, Ruby,' she said softly. 'You see…I have decided to accompany him.'

Ruby's face went ash-grey. 'Accompany him where? To Egypt, you mean?'

'Oui, that is so.'