The Ladies of the Secret Circus Constance Sayers (e books free to read .TXT) 📖

know what that was like for a seven-year-old girl with no mother?”

Lara placed her hand over her mother’s, thinking of Audrey as a little girl and the pair of them—Althacazur with his glasses and Margot with her parasol. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’d never known her and yet, I let her go,” said Audrey, “because I was so afraid of what she was—what I thought that I was becoming as well.”

“What we are.” Lara finished her sentence.

“Yes,” said Audrey, clasping Lara’s hands. “What we are.”

“And what are we?” Lara recalled the Ouija board moving at the slumber party, opening locks on her grandfather’s doors, and enchanting her wedding gown.

“I don’t know,” said Audrey. “I suppose the answers were there, I just didn’t want them at the time. After Cecile died, it was too late, but she never wanted to talk about Paris. You might have more information in that journal than I ever wrangled out of her.”

Lara went over to her briefcase and pulled out the journal. “You could be right about that.” She handed her mother the translation. “There are a couple spots here where my French isn’t so great, but it could be indicative of slang of the time that I don’t understand.”

Audrey pointed to the journal entry date as she reached into her purse and pulled out her reading glasses, studying Lara’s notes. “This is incredible, Lara.”

“I know you didn’t think she’d kept one, but I do think it’s Cecile’s diary from when she lived in Paris,” said Lara. “There is this rivalry between Cecile and her twin sister. There is also a third girl, Sylvie. She’s the trick rider.”

“Sylvie on the Steed?” Audrey considered it, then let the idea go. “Cecile never mentioned she had a sister, certainly not a twin.”

“I think Cecile didn’t mention a lot of things.” Lara flipped through the pages. “Don’t you think it’s strange that of all the professions that Cecile might have chosen, she started a circus?”

“It certainly wasn’t a business that a woman ran back then, but circuses were places where women thrived, especially after the war. Still, I get your point: It’s not a business you’d seek out.”

“Unless she’d grown up in one,” said Lara, handing her mother the book. “The woman in this book lived and worked in a very, very strange circus.”

“Le Cirque Secret,” said Audrey. She reached over and touched Lara on the cheek. “I hated keeping things from you.”

“I know you did,” said Lara, and she understood, because she hated not telling her mother that she’d also seen Althacazur, but the stakes were too high. “Something about this diary is off. The Cecile in this diary is not a trick rider, she’s a trapeze artist—rather magical, too—a bit like us. The answers we need are in Paris.”

“If you’re going to leave Kerrigan Falls, then you need to learn a few protection spells.”

“I’ve traveled a lot without needing a spell,” said Lara, laughing. “I went to Europe, on the road with Dad.”

Audrey looked guilty. “No, my dear, you did not.” She twirled her cup intently. “I know that everyone thinks that I didn’t want Le Cirque Margot, so it closed. That isn’t the truth. I did want the circus, but Cecile had gone through so much with Mother’s madness, claiming she was being tormented while on the road by a pair of daemons—a man and a woman—the woman threatening to kill her and the man trying to help her. It got bad—really bad—in Gaffney, where Margot claimed that an angel with white hair had given her a protection spell. Well, of course Cecile thought it just another of Mother’s crazy ramblings, until Mother said the incantation. Cecile said the birds stopped singing immediately and the wind began to stir, leaves fell from trees, flowers wilted—you get the idea. Then, in some crazy attempt to test it, she walked into traffic.”

Lara’s eyes were wide. “And?”

“Traffic parted for her.” Audrey shivered. There was a soft breeze coming through the kitchen and the Airedales raised their heads to sniff at it. “Margot claimed that she was told to recite the spell each year on October ninth for her protection, but that it worked better if she stayed in one place. Something about Mother’s tales of a white-haired lady unnerved Cecile to the point that she believed it. When I came of age, she made me recite it to stay safe. But Margot was right. It didn’t work as well outside Kerrigan Falls. It offers some protection, but it needs to be administered daily if we’re not here. When Cecile was getting up in years, she began to think this ‘angel’ didn’t want us on the road with the circus, especially after the accident that I had with my horse.”

“What accident?” Lara had heard all the tales from the old performers at Le Cirque Margot. There had been no mention of an accident involving her mother.

“My horse, Belle, stepped into a strange divot that came out of nowhere during one of my shows; I toppled over her and nearly broke my neck. Belle broke her leg and had to be put down while I watched.”

“So she closed the circus.”

“I didn’t want her to, but she insisted. I think the old circus folks took my horse business as a sign that I’d turned my back on my legacy, but that wasn’t true. I promised Cecile that I wouldn’t rekindle any talk of a troupe, especially after you were born. When you went on the road with your father, I showed up in every city you toured. You just didn’t know I was there. I said the spell every night, faithfully. Even then, you still had the accident with the guitar wire that nearly electrocuted you.”

“Oh, that was just a freak occurrence, Mother.” Lara could still see the frayed wire and the puddle of water, which had no real origin—it couldn’t be chalked up to rain or to any leak from the amphitheater’s ceiling. Still, the charge had gone through her hand. When