Perhaps my list was just a load of bullshit after all.

***

The next morning, I made my way to the gazebo to get some breakfast for Lola. I had to pass by Jack’s camper to get there, and I hurried my pace as I approached. Much to my dismay, he was already outside, hair damp from a shower and a mug of coffee in his hand. I muttered some choice words to myself and plastered on a brave face.

“Good morning,” I said to him curtly, and continued walking.

“Lille,” he called after me, and I stopped, turning around. It would be just my luck that he’d want to torture me, make this so much worse than it already was. The sad thing was that even after last night, I still cared for him immensely. Perhaps I was being foolish, but I couldn’t seem to turn my emotions on and off like he could.

“Yes?” I replied, glancing over his shoulder and inside his camper. My heart was thumping fast as I wondered if the woman from last night was there. I wondered if he’d taken her into his bed and let her touch him in places I wanted to belong only to me. His gaze followed mine, and he frowned.

“What are you looking at?”

“Just checking to see if the latest notch on your bedpost is still hanging around,” I bit out, and instantly wanted to take the words back. Now he knew he’d succeeded in hurting me.

He knocked back the last of his coffee, ran a hand through his hair, and looked away. “She’s not here.”

“Oh, kicked her out after the deed was done, did you? How gentlemanly.”

Now he looked at me, and the expression on his face made me shiver. “There was no need to kick her out. She was never here.”

I folded my arms and rolled my eyes. I was so pissed off, and I think he knew it. “Even more gentlemanly. Gave her a knee-trembler behind the gazebo, then?”

His lips twitched before he let out a chuckle. “A knee-trembler? Only fifty-year-old men are allowed to use that term, Lille.”

I scowled at him and turned to leave. I’d only gotten a few steps away when he caught my arm to stop me. My back was to his front as he locked my arm out and held it firmly to his chest. His breath hit my neck as he said quietly, “I wasn’t with her, okay? How can I possibly be with anyone else when you’ve taken over my every thought?”

I closed my eyes and swallowed hard. His question melted my insides. The way his voice shook slightly told me he was telling the truth and that it was hard for him. All the strength went out of me as my body sank into his.

“You can’t say stuff like that if you’re going to do things like you did last night. You can’t keep pushing me away, then pulling me back all the time,” I whispered.

“I know,” said Jack, his big, warm body pressing into mine. “That’s why you need to stay away from me.” He loosened his grip on my arm and I stepped back, turning to face him.

“I don’t want to stay away.”

His eyes scorched. “If you knew the truth, you would.”

“The truth? What truth?”

“About the things I want to do to you. With other women I can restrain myself, but with you, I’m not sure I could. That’s why it will never work between us. The way you look at me, Lille, like you’ll let me own you, all I have to do is say the word. You don’t want to be owned by me.”

I frowned at him, remembering how he’d said something like this before.

“And what if I do want to?”

“You don’t. Life twists some of us in strange ways, ways that shape us to always be alone, and I’m one of them.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just stared at him. Our staring contest ended when Julie sauntered by wearing a tiny sundress, her hair curled like a fifties pinup.

“Looking good this morning, Jack,” she said sweetly. I felt like telling her to piss off, that she was interrupting a private and perhaps monumental conversation. She gave me a narrow-eyed glance, then focused her attention back on Jack. He barely even registered her presence, just kept on staring at me with an intensity that was far too overwhelming. I couldn’t take much more, so I turned and went.

He didn’t follow.

Four days passed by in a blur. A good deal of the circus workers had fallen ill with the flu, so we were all working double time in an effort to keep everything afloat. When I felt the beginnings of it coming on myself, I took a whole bunch of vitamin tablets, made sure I got a full night’s sleep, and that seemed to work in staving it off.

By the time we were moving on to Lyon, Lola had recovered; however, she still wasn’t back to her usual self. I’d often catch her with a haunted, faraway look in her eyes, and I knew she was thinking of the night of her attack. I couldn’t blame her. It was at the forefront of my mind, too. I was constantly wondering about the attacker’s identity. Was it just some random person? Or was it the very same person who’d killed Vera, the burlesque dancer?

Violet offered to drive the four hours it took to get to Lyon, which was out of character, but I guessed she was still wearing her kid gloves with Lola. When we arrived at our destination, it was outside the city, in a gorgeous countryside setting quite like when we’d been in Caen, just more majestic somehow. It wasn’t far from the city, though, and was easy enough for people to reach if they wanted to come see the show.

Lola had spent most of the journey in our room, so I went to see how she was doing. When I stepped inside, I knew instantly that she’d been crying, because her eyes were red and her lips were all puffy. She seemed embarrassed when we locked eyes, so I didn’t mention her appearance. Instead, I decided to try to cheer her up. I’d been working on a painting of her the last couple of days, and now was as good a time as any to give it to her.

“I have a present for you,” I said. “Stay there.”

I went to retrieve the painting I’d done on a small ten-by-ten-inch canvas. The picture was very Andy Warhol inspired, and showed a colourful caricature of Lola’s face on a background of popcorn and candyfloss. I set it on the bed in front of her and stood back to take in her reaction.

“Well, what do you think?” I asked, biting a little at my fingernails.

She picked up the canvas and stared at it for a long time. Her voice was all breathy when she finally spoke. “Honestly, Lille, where did I find you?”

“In a boring old town in the back arse of nowhere,” I replied humorously, and she smiled.

“You’re too much. I think my guardian angel sent you. He must have known I needed a friend.”

“Your guardian angel’s a man?”

She gave me a little wry look, and for the first time in days, I saw a hint of the old Lola coming back to life. “Of course. I like to imagine he’s hopelessly in love with me, but we can never be together because it’s against the rules.”

I laughed. “Sounds like a book I wouldn’t mind reading.”

She smiled at me, a full-on happy smile, and I felt something in my chest untighten. “It does, doesn’t it?” A short silence elapsed before she said, “Seriously, though, I love this painting. I’ll treasure it always.”

What she said had me walking towards the bed and taking her into a long, tight hug. I knew the memories of what had happened would always haunt her, but if I could make her feel a little bit better, then I’d done my job.

***

There was an air of excitement about the circus as the workers set up camp in Lyon. When I went to the gazebo, I found Winnie and her two daughters putting up decorations, and I asked if it was somebody’s birthday.

“No, dear,” said Winnie. “It’s the anniversary of Konrad’s death, the founder of the circus. We have a celebration every year to mark the day. Marina insists on it. Did you know they used to be lovers?”

Her daughters giggled as they untangled some frilly ribbons at her mentioning Marina having a lover.

“Really?”

She nodded. “They were together for a very long time. Never married, though. Konrad was forever asking her, but Marina always said no, said that it wasn’t because she didn’t love him, but more that she didn’t believe in the institution of marriage.”