‘Good girl,’ David said warmly. He patted my back and called to Dandy. ‘Go up the ladder behind your sister. She’s going to see the view from the top.’ To Jack he snapped his fingers. ‘You come down,’ he said. ‘No point having all of you up there.’

I knew how to climb the ladder – heel to toe, heel to toe – and I knew to push up with my legs, not to try to haul myself up with my arms. The rope ladder trembled as I went up and I bit my tongue on a little gasp of fear.

I was afraid of stepping from the ladder to the pedestal board. It was such a tiny bit of wood with two raised poles to hold on to. It was only as wide as half my foot, and my bare toes curled over the edge as if I would grip like a dancing monkey on a stick. I clenched my hands around the poles on each side of the board, and saw my knuckles go white. I was bow-legged with fear and trying to balance. My stomach churned and I longed to piss in fright. There was nothing I could hold which was firm, which felt safe. I gave a little sob.

Dandy, coming up behind me on the ladder, heard me.

‘Want to come down?’ she asked. ‘I’ll guide you down.’

I was crouched on the pedestal now, shifted slightly to the right, both hands gripping the left-side pole. I looked at the jigging ladder where Dandy waited and feared it as much as the trapeze.

‘I’m afraid,’ I said. Fear had tightened my throat and I could hardly speak. My stomach pulsed with terror, my knees were bent like an old dame with rheumatism. I could not straighten up.

‘Is it bad?’ David called up from down below. I did not dare nod for fear that would shake the pedestal board. Dandy waited on the ladder.

‘Do you want to climb down?’ David called.

I opened my mouth to tell him that I did not dare climb. That I did not dare swing. I had lost my voice. All I could do was croak like a fear-struck frog.

‘Get out of it,’ Dandy said, careless of my deep terror. ‘Grab hold of the trapeze and swing down and drop into the net, Meridon. It’s the quickest way. Then you’ll never have to come up again.’