Carol Birch - Orphans of the Carnival

Herr Milchmann ! she cries.

He approaches, covered in sweat, breeches growing baggier by the minute, a single rose in his hand, sighing and beseeching. She flicks her fan, looks away, waggles her foot. The audience chuckles and hoots.

Fraulein, ich bitte Sie, nehmen Sie Ihren Schleier !

Oh please, put up your veil!

She rises scornfully and walks to the front of the stage. Let him sigh for a glimpse of my face, she says, looking over their heads, he’ll get none of me.

And that was it really. Just more of the same, the men clowning, she singing, dancing, delivering the odd disdainful line. Towards the end came a prolonged and frantic farce, where stupid Stefan follows her about puckering up his mouth and pleading for kisses, fluttering his closed eyelids pathetically. Oh, sweet lady, one kiss, one kiss is all I ask . Whenever he looks away or goes offstage, she lifts her veil and grins at the crowd. In and out goes Stefan, up and down goes the veil, faster and faster. The grin becomes painful, she feels her cheeks quiver. Do they know the skill that goes into this? They roll about, baying and shrieking, till she goes into her last big scene.

Alone onstage, she speaks to them directly.

What a fool this milkman is , she declares.

They roar.

What does he know of love? Nothing! What he calls love is nothing more than a few pearls — she twirls them — a pretty dress — she spreads the flounces — a little foot — she points the toe — What does he know — the music begins — of the true heart within? Into her final song, about a true simple heart being worth more than gold.

Stefan enters with his giggling friends. They haven’t seen her yet.

Such a man , she says, with a careless gesture in his direction, is a shallow well. I could never give my heart to him. With a practised movement, she veils and turns to greet him. Your patience is rewarded , she declares, behold the woman you love! Peels down the gloves from her hairy brown arms, withdraws them, tosses the veil aside.

Horror!

He runs but she gives chase as the audience roars, then: Is this what you want? she cries, kissing him full on the lips. As he faints clean away, she steps centre-stage, wets her lips — ‘Her tongue!’ someone moaned — and says, How many of you ladies can say your kiss has that kind of effect on a man?

The curtain fell.

She took the applause centre-stage, wave upon wave of thunderous stamping and cheering and whistling. Three curtain calls. Flowers landing on the stage.

Theo met her in the wings with a glass of champagne. ‘You were spectacular,’ he said. ‘Spec tac ular, Julia. You must meet Herr Otto, he is smitten.’

Herr Otto was an elegant, handsomely ageing man, with a raggedly pointed beard and deep lines etched either side of his face. ‘I am indeed,’ he said, bowing low so that she could study his bald spot, grabbing her ungloved hand and kissing the back of it wetly. Straightening, he looked sideways at her.

‘How do you do,’ she said, still breathless from the whole thing.

‘Come and have a drink, Hermann,’ said Theo, who’d clearly had a few himself already. His eyes had a bright, dancing, almost scared look. ‘Come and have a drink with me and Julia. Wasn’t she wonderful ?’

They walked to the dressing room along an avenue of goggling faces. She didn’t know why but she felt like crying. They were still screaming and whistling out there. He had not given her his arm. She wanted it to hang onto. Something mad was in the air. ‘Theo…’ she said.

‘Extremely talented,’ Herr Otto said with a smile in his voice. ‘Fraulein Pastrana, you have a very pretty voice.’ His English was perfect.

‘Thank you.’

There was more champagne in the dressing room, more faces. A woman in a blue gown. Huber the manager, who was round and small with a black moustache and a thick black curl of hair carefully arranged above his forehead. The sound, still battering at the door, something wild in it. Theo beaming like a madman.

‘And the incomparable Cricket!’ he cried, ‘Here she is!’

Huber, his face in hers, smiling. ‘A triumph,’ he said.

‘Julia, come here.’ Theo took her hand. ‘This is Miss Friederike Gossmann,’ he said, leading the woman in the blue gown forward, ‘the great actress.’

‘Oh, don’t be silly,’ said Miss Gossmann lightly. ‘I’m so pleased to meet you, Miss Pastrana. What a marvellous performance you gave.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Mr Lent tells me we can expect to see you in Vienna.’ She was trim and pretty and assured, and spoke perfect English with a faint accent.

‘Are we?’ Julia turned to Theo. ‘Are we going to Vienna?’

‘I’m sure we will,’ he said. ‘Please, please, everybody, sit down. Miss Gossmann, for you?’

‘Only one very tiny one.’ Miss Gossmann said, holding her finger and thumb a half inch apart, and smiling warmly at Julia. ‘I’m afraid I can’t stay. I just wanted to say hello and tell you how much I appreciated your performance. And to say, please, when you are in Vienna, do come and visit me.’

‘Of course.’ Theo shoved a drink in Julia’s hand. ‘Miss Gossmann is the Cricket, Julia.’

Julia had no idea what he was talking about.

‘Why would she know about that?’ said Miss Gossmann. ‘Julia — you don’t mind if I call you Julia? — Do please call me Friederike—’

‘The Cricket,’ said Theo excitedly. ‘A sensation in Hamburg. Should’ve seen the reviews.’

‘You were born to play that role, Friederike.’ Herr Otto sprawled back in his chair, looked at Julia and pulled down the skin under one of his eyes in a peculiar, slightly vulgar way.

‘Listen to them!’ Huber shook his head. He never looked at her for long. Quick little darts. Waves of cheerful savagery faded beyond the walls.

‘Stupendous,’ Otto said.

‘It scared me,’ said Julia.

Miss Gossmann leaned forward and clasped Julia’s hand. Her face, close to Julia’s, was friendly and concerned, and she betrayed no sign of unease. She might have been looking at something normal. ‘I can understand that,’ she said.

‘Scared?’ Theo, walking about waving a bottle, smiling, irrepressible. ‘What’s there to be scared of? They loved it!’

‘The way they laughed,’ said Julia.

‘It’s comedy. That’s what they’re supposed to do.’

‘The way they laugh.’

Miss Gossmann went on smiling and stroking Julia’s hand, her green eyes full of sympathy. Her face was birdlike, round and bright with a sharp little nose.

‘Just—’ Julia shrugged.

‘It’s a vulgar little thing,’ Friederike said. ‘In Vienna I hope to see you perform solo.’

‘Hermann’s going to be our man in Vienna,’ Theo said, circulating continuously with the champagne. The door was open, people wandered in and out. Julia could hear the men in front of their mirrors down the hall, sponging off their make-up. ‘You’ll love Vienna, Julia,’ Theo said. ‘You haven’t played a really big circus yet. That’s where Hermann comes in. What do you say?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said. Her heart was calming down. ‘I’m tired, I’ll think about it later. I’d like to go to Vienna. I’d like to go everywhere.’

‘Everywhere?’ Herr Otto smiled, showing many teeth and high gums.

‘First Vienna,’ Theo said. ‘Then Warsaw. Saint Petersburg, of course. Oh Julia, wait until you see Saint Petersburg. The mysterious east! The Golden Road to Samarkand!’ He laughed, clinking glasses with Huber, chortling softly in the corner.