When he came back, he held the wand in his hand. He ran it along my shoulders, and it was hot to the touch, just like the hoops. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, just feeling as he ran along every dip and curve, over my hip, down my thigh, along the back of my knee. His breathing was slow and focused, like he was concentrating on every tiny detail, every minuscule reaction the hot metal elicited from me. I watched how his arms moved, how the muscles contracted and released, and it was way too sexy. I could have come again if I wasn’t so exhausted. Soon, as the wand continued its voyage around my body, my eyes drifted closed. The hot sting started to feel like a warm caress, and that caress was lulling me to slumber.

“That’s it, go to sleep, beautiful,” I heard Jack whisper before exhaustion pulled me under.

***

The days began to blend into a sequence of shows, spending time with Jack, working on my art, travelling, and having earth-shattering sex that involved heat and pleasure and pain, and it was blowing my mind. Jack and I grew quietly closer. I say quietly, because when we were around each other, it was never long before our eyes met, before our bodies were touching in whatever small way we could manage.

But still, we spoke no words. We didn’t apply any labels, and it was oddly reassuring. I didn’t feel like I needed to chain him down and plaster a “boyfriend” sticker over his forehead. I felt like he was with me because he wanted to be, and if he didn’t want me anymore, then I’d know about it.

Julie kept her distance, mostly because it felt like all eyes were on her now. Ever since news had travelled of her attack, people became wary. Marina had given her a firm and final warning, so she was on her best behaviour. One thing was for certain, her performances never wavered. I marvelled at how she could be so crazy, yet it never translated over into her art. Or perhaps she was so good at her art because she was crazy.

The circus had moved its way through France and was now stopping in the city of Turin in Italy. Having lived on an island my entire life, it was amazing to think how we could be on the same land, yet move into a whole other country. One moment you’re in France, the next you’re in Italy. Turin was an impressive city, with beautiful architecture that was overlooked by the Alps. It was perhaps the most majestic place we’d been yet, and the shows were selling out every night.

I was putting away my face paints as the music I recognised for Jack’s act played inside the tent. I smiled at the edgy rhythm as I went about my task in my own little bubble, until a familiar voice broke through and almost stopped my heart from beating.

“Hurry up, Benjamin, we haven’t got much time,” my mother snipped as her PA hurried to try to keep pace with her. There was only one thought in my head as I stood there, frozen in place.

She found me.

This thought was followed by a number of expletives, and a distinct and tangible feeling of dread. Her heels clicked on the wooden panels set out at the entrance to the tent. The sound of those heels clicking would forever remind me of her, and was probably the reason why more often than not I chose to wear flats. My throat tightened, my skin grew clammy, and though I was out in the open, I suddenly felt like I couldn’t find enough air to breathe.

I couldn’t decide whether I should hide or go right up and confront her. She had no right to be here, and if she thought that somehow she was going to bring me home, she had another thing coming. A month ago I would have hidden, and even though in the grand scale of things a month was not a very long time, I wasn’t the same person I had been then. I felt stronger, less naïve. Yes, I still wanted to have an adventure, but I now knew that with every adventure came very real dangers, and I couldn’t simply throw caution to the wind like I used to think I could.

Maybe living life also meant doing things that were hard and sometimes scary. And confronting my mother right now was definitely scary. Before I could hesitate a moment longer, the word was out of my mouth.

“Mum,” I called.

She turned on her heel, straightened out her pencil skirt, and swung to face me. Her expression ran the gamut of surprised to relieved to angry in a heartbeat.

“Lillian!” she exclaimed, and began walking towards me. “Have you any idea of the trouble we’ve been through trying to find you?”

“You shouldn’t have come,” I said, folding my arms and standing my ground. I made a concerted effort not to stutter. Benjamin gave me a cynical look up and down. He’d been working for Mum for years and was the kind of sycophant who kept her thinking she was a wonderful person, instead of what she truly was, i.e. cold and mean.

“We’re taking you home,” Mum said, coming forward and grabbing a hold of my arm. “Our flight leaves in a couple of hours, and we don’t want to miss it.”

I jerked away from her. “I’m not going anywhere.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, she looked like she was about to burst a blood vessel. “We just spent over four hours on a plane to come here. Don’t be so ungrateful. If you’re worried about not having enough money for the flight, there’s no need. I already booked you a ticket.”

I laughed involuntarily. “Oh, a whole four hours, what a sacrifice. And it’s not about the money. I’m staying here because I want to. I’m happy.”

Her impatience was clear on her face. “You’re supposed to be starting back at college in a fortnight. You might as well come home now. It’s the best solution for everyone.”

And that was exactly why she was here. It wasn’t because she genuinely cared about my well-being. She just didn’t want me dropping out of college and making a show of her in the process. I was sure if she’d really wanted to, she could have come and found me long before now. But no, this sudden intervention was because the new semester was just two weeks away, and Mum wanted me there in the lecture hall, playing the part of her studious little daughter.

“I’m not going back to college,” I said in a steady voice, holding my chin high.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course you are. This is your final year. Quitting now would be a waste.” Jesus, it was like she wasn’t even listening. Like she didn’t care enough to listen. As far as my mother was concerned, her way was right, and everyone else’s way was wrong.

“No, the last three years of my life have been a waste. I should never had agreed to go to college in the first place. It’s not what I want. It’s not my passion. Yeah, I’d probably make a lot of money when I eventually got a job, but I wouldn’t be happy. What’s the point of being successful if you’re going to be miserable? I’d rather be penniless and happy any day of the week.”

Mum rolled her eyes to the heavens, like my little speech was a cliché she didn’t have time for. And okay, perhaps it was a cliché, but it was my cliché, and I was determined not to give in. I wasn’t going to be spineless and bend to her wishes anymore. I was going to lead the life I chose.

“You say all this now,” said Mum, “but wait another few months, and you’ll be whistling a very different tune. Wait until you can’t afford clothes or food, or a place to live, and then let’s see how happy you are. You’re used to a certain lifestyle, Lillian, and eventually you’ll miss the comfort.”

“I won’t,” I gritted.

“For Christ’s sake, stop being a brat. I’ve lived longer than you have. I know better. Now come, let’s go collect your things and be going. I want to have enough time for something to eat before we get on the plane.”

Before I could respond, I heard hard footsteps approach and then Jack’s deep, questioning voice asking, “Lille, what’s going on?”

My mother turned to face him, her eyes taking him in as she crossed her arms over her chest and raised a speculative eyebrow. Okay, so she had never exactly been a nun, and I hated to say it, but Mum had a thing for handsome younger men. She always kept it away from our home life, which was at least something I was thankful to her for. But over the years, I came to learn that she liked to use her hard-earned money to wine and dine toy boys. Needless to say, it wasn’t really something I liked to think about very often.