Ever Dundas - Goblin

Other than the tiger cub and occasionally Rusty, we didn’t perform with the animals, but I loved to be with them so when I had time I helped Colin and his workers muck them out, wash them, brush them, feed them, whatever needed done. The menagerie was one of my favourite things about the circus. I’d try to get my costume and make-up done in plenty time before the show so I could go out and watch all the people, seeing their reactions to the animals. I moved through the crowd, selling a few clown toys, watching the people mill around taking photos of the animals. I took a photo of a family with two of our elephants, the little kid not wanting to look at the camera, too busy staring up at Mitzi and her flapping ears. A click and a flash and I caught her sense of wonder.

The menagerie weren’t the only animals in the circus. Captain Flint and Groo came with us. Captain Flint would fly off when we pitched, disappearing for hours, returning with prey he’d eat on my bed. I’d come in from a performance to find a corpse, half-eaten. I remember when he brought a corpse and a diamond bracelet, almost as if it was an appeasement. We were pitched in York when he didn’t return one evening. I didn’t fret, sure he would make it back before we left. Four days passed and he didn’t return; I was anxious for him, but hoped he was enjoying his freedom and not injured or dead. I missed him and his gruesome meals.

Groo took a while to get used to circus life and mostly stayed in my caravan on my bed. Eventually she ventured out, exploring the new terrain in each town and city we stopped in. She would bring me mice and small birds until my caravan was a grisly menagerie of corpses. Groo would sniff out the other animals in the circus, fascinated by all the new smells. Trotting in front of the cages, she held her head high in a haughty display of her freedom in contrast to the mighty big cats behind bars. She made friends with one of the performing dogs, Ali’s Jack Russell, Rusty, and I’d find them curled up on my bed together, making huffy noises in their sleep. Groo groomed him and he enjoyed it. I tried not to think of Devil, I tried not to think of the past at all. Except for David; I used our travelling as an opportunity to look for him. We travelled for eight months of the year, all across the UK, everywhere we went I would put up posters of David, keeping an eye out for him in seaside towns. I’d also get tattoos in almost every town or city we stopped in. I asked the publicity troupe to scout out a tattoo artist for me and book me in before we arrived. I’d get waves, ships, pirate flags, mermaids and mermen, krakens, sailors, anchors, lizard people, Mary and Jesus. I had ‘LOVE’ tattooed across the fingers on my right hand and lines from Alice in Wonderland and The Time Machine across my back and my legs. Each year we’d return to the same towns and cities and I’d return to my favourite tattoo artists. They’d be waiting for me with a shot of whisky, vodka, gin or a pint of beer and it was like I’d never left. The last tattoo I got was a small lizard on my ring finger.

At the end of the tour the circus would return to London to do a few shows there, then we’d have a short break before coming back together and repairing and repainting our carriages and props, working on new acts, bringing in new performers. I’d return to letters, people telling me they’d seen David, but they were all from cranks, lonely people looking for someone to rescue them. I kept all the letters and some of them I replied to, keeping up a correspondence with an old woman who lived in a cottage near the coast with her two dogs. She had so many stories to tell and I’d get lost in them, pretending her past was mine.

Adam and I split summer of ’52. We’d been taking each other for granted, being together out of habit, not really connecting anymore. And he hated when I was drinking.

‘You get drunk and maudlin, talk around your past – never about it.’

‘Don’t pry,’ I said, ‘leave me be.’

‘You need to talk about it.’

‘Don’t tell me what I need.’

I ended it before he could. He didn’t speak to me for weeks after, but I hardly saw him anyway, as he was involved in Freaks and Wonders and I was busy clowning. It was strange going back to my caravan in the evenings now he wasn’t there. I met up with mum and dad for a weekly evening drink, and I started going round to Marv’s with Ali and Paul and drank with them a couple of nights a week. They were all about fifteen years older than me and they’d fought in the war – Ali and Paul had been in the army with dad, and Marv was in the RAF. Ali and Paul barely spoke about it, but Marv regaled us with tales of derring-do and womanising. When Marv wasn’t with us in the evenings he was off wooing one of the glitter girls and he’d tell us all about it the next day, ‘That Laura, she was something else – kept me up all night.’ He didn’t seem to care I was a woman. At first I thought their easy acceptance was because of Mad and James, but we hit it off and they enjoyed my crazy stories about the London ghosts and my collection of animals.

I wasn’t with anyone for the next few years; just brief flings here and there. Mum and dad had rules, the main one being that we weren’t to fraternize with any locals when we stopped off, though I know many did. The second rule was that if we had affairs, it wasn’t to affect our work. The third was that there were no unplanned pregnancies; contraception was provided and every child was given sex education. If any performers wanted children, they informed mum and dad, giving them time to plan so that performances didn’t suffer. The circus was one big family and mum and dad encouraged everyone to help with the children.

It wasn’t until ’55 that I was in another serious relationship, when I fell for another angel. Angelina was a glitter girl, one of the aerialists who worked with mum. Everyone called her Glitter Queen when she became one of our big stars with fans clamouring for her autograph after shows. When she took part in the parades through the towns she’d wear wings. She was a dream.

I went to watch her rehearse whenever I had the time. She was another fiery angel – all temper and expletives when practice didn’t go well, no patience if anyone dared to disagree with her. I must have been watching her work for weeks when she came over to me after rehearsal.

‘Jesus!’ she said. ‘You saw that, right? If he doesn’t pull his fucking weight the whole act will fall apart. I need a drink – you coming?’

I went back to her caravan and sat on her bed as she told me about her trouble with Dave.

‘He’s got a problem with me just because I turned him down. What are we – school children? Jesus!’

She didn’t seem to mind that I was there as she peeled off her tights and unclipped her bra. She stood naked in-front of the mirror, taking her hair out of a bun, brushing it and tying it back. She pulled a towel around her and said, ‘Just getting a quick shower, hang around will you? Help yourself.’ She pointed to the whisky on her dresser.

We lay on her bed, drinking late into the evening. She finally moved on from the trouble with Dave and told me about growing up in poverty in Manchester, said her parents had tried to marry her off to an old man with money, ‘so when your circus came I stowed away. I’m lucky your parents took me on.’

‘We’re the lucky ones – you’re our star.’

‘All thanks to your mum,’ she said raising her glass, ‘taking a chance, taking the time to train me.’

‘Mad knows potential when she sees it,’ I said, clinking glasses with her.

I took a drink, but Angelina just looked at me, eyes narrowed and said, ‘How long have you been watching me for?’