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Chapters (51)
  1. Cover
  2. Meridon
  3. Table of Contents
  4. Map
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
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  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
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  28. 24
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  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
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  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  47. About the Author
  48. BY THE SAME AUTHOR
  49. Copyright
  50. About the Publisher
  51. About the Publisher

Blinking owlishly he put his hand into his right pocket and then flinched as he closed his hand on the hip flask which I knew he would have there. From his other pocket he pulled out a handful of papers. They were gambling vowels: IOUs from other gamblers. The wintry wind caught a few of them and blew them down the street. It was small loss. I guessed they were useless.

‘No, Perry,’ I said softly. ‘I am not coming home. Tell your mama I thank her for her kindness and that I will not contest a divorce action. Tell her I have a criminal connection and she can have me put aside so that you can marry again. Tell her I am sorry, but I shall be living here on Wideacre with the man I love.’

Perry blinked again. He took out his flask and unstoppered it and took a swift swig. On the clean cold Wideacre air the smell of warm gin was sickly-sweet. He turned and stepped unsteadily back into the carriage. The footman, as impassive as a statue, folded the steps in and shut the door and swung on to the back of the carriage. His hands were blue with cold. He did not look at me.

Perry dropped the window holding the leather strap. ‘I don’t know what people will say about you,’ he said with the sudden spitefulness of a thwarted child. ‘They will say the most dreadful things, you know. You will never be able to go anywhere again. No one will blame me. No one will blame me at all. They will say you are at fault, and no one will call you Lady Havering ever again.’

I shifted Lizzie’s warm weight and I smiled at him with compassion. I was far from his world now. I was far from the world of the landed, of the squires, of the owners. I was the last of the Laceys and I had turned my back on ownership, I was trying a new way. I wanted to build a new world.

‘I don’t need your name,’ I said. ‘I don’t want your title. I am Will Tyacke’s whore, that’s good enough for me.’

‘Sarah…’ he said.

I stepped back a pace and the coachman flicked the horses.

‘My name is not Sarah,’ I said. And I smiled at him in my sudden certainty. ‘My name is not Sarah. My name is Meridon. Meridon; and this is where I belong.’

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I should like to thank Gerry Cottle and all the staff and artistes of his circus for the welcome they extended to me and my family when we stayed with them in the summer seasons in 1987 and 1988.

I owe special thanks to the Witney family: Derek, June, April and Lee-Ann who shared their family history with me, and taught me circus traditions – and (with less success) rosinback riding!