‘If there’s anything you need, G,’ said Mad, ‘if you need to talk about anything, you come to me, okay?’
‘Okay,’ I said.
She stubbed out a cigarette and said, ‘So you gonna wear your blood every month?’
I smiled and said, ‘It’ll be the new fashion.’ I struck a pose, head tilted, hand under my chin. ‘I’ll be on the cover of Vogue. Lee Miller will take my picture.’
Mad laughed and old Louise grunted, frowning at me.
‘You’ve got a lot to learn, child,’ said old Louise.
‘You said I was a woman.’
She shook her head dismissively.
‘Better get on,’ said Mad, standing up, ‘my shift starts soon.’
She squeezed my shoulder as she walked past and suddenly it was just me and old Louise.
‘You gonna wash that muck of your face?’
‘It’s not muck.’
‘If you want to be a woman you need to act more ladylike.’
‘I don’t want to be a woman. I’m Goblin.’
‘That so?’
‘Through and through.’
‘Mad and James have their work cut out with you, that’s for certain.’
‘Old Louise?’
‘Enough with the “old”.’
‘Miss Louise, what happens if I like girls as well?’
‘As well?’
‘As well as boys.’
‘You can’t like both.’
‘But I do like both,’ I said.
‘You can’t. You’ll find that out soon enough.’
She pushed her chair back and stood up, taking the bottle of whisky with her. As she went to the door she turned back to me.
‘You be careful,’ she said, wagging her finger at me. ‘You be careful who you talk to about things like that.’
When James and any of the other men came back from leave there’d be a party. It would start off small but soon everyone would gather and the party could last for days. James let me drink beer. I remember the adverts in the papers: ‘Guinness Is Good for You’ with a smiley face on the beer foam. I liked the foam moustache it gave me. I liked the dreamy feeling and it wasn’t as harsh as whisky. James wasn’t so impressed when I had my first cigarette, though. I hung around with the clowns a lot, bugging them for stories, asking them to show me some of their routines, but when Marv gave me a cigarette James banned me from going near them anymore.
It wasn’t just the circus crowd who came to the parties; there were writers, actors, singers and hangers-on. One of the hangers-on was some lord or other who was a patron of the circus. He’d come to the parties with his wife and he’d usually get thrown out for something. His wife would get drunk and follow me around, trying to fix me, telling me I was beautiful but, ‘You should use make-up, brush your hair and wear a dress that fits for godsake.’ I didn’t know if I was beautiful or not and I didn’t care either way and I told her that.
‘You should, little Goblin. People love you if you’re beautiful and you need to save all that love for when the beauty is gone.’
When I managed to shake her I came across Lord whatshisname kissing Betsy on the kitchen counter, his penis dangling out of his pants as he slobbered over her and told her how much he loved dwarves. Betsy just cackled and poured beer over his head. I felt bad for his wife after that but I didn’t want to be her personal little Goblin to do up all pretty like a doll, so I avoided her if I could, even if I felt a bit bad about it.
Captain Flint loved the parties – he would perch on a lamp, observing, joining in any singing with some squawking while Groo slinked around looking for someone to sit on. Most of the animals wouldn’t fit into the small flat and there was no garden so I spoke to Mad and James about rehoming the animals that weren’t part of my immediate family. I’d cut down on my rescuing because I couldn’t take any more creatures, but I still had three dogs, five cats and a rabbit, as well as Billy Bones, Dr Kemp, Groo and Captain Flint. I’d said the chickens had to stay but I knew I was being selfish what with there being no garden for them to rummage in and have dust baths. Mad and James said I should at least go and inspect Colin’s place to see if they’d be happy there. Colin had looked after a lot of the animals in the circus, so he was sure to take care of them, but I was still all reluctant. I went round with my nose stuck up in the air as if his place wasn’t any good at all, but the house and garden were big and I could see how happy the chickens would be. I questioned Colin like I’d questioned all of my neighbours but it was no good, he was perfect. I could tell he’d care for those chickens but I just said all haughty, ‘We’ll think about it.’
I gave him three of the cats and one of the dogs. I hadn’t been as close to them, so I didn’t mind as much as I would if he was to take my chicken crew. We rehomed the others no bother with more of Mad and James’ friends. I eventually gave in on giving away the chickens when they pooped and scratched all over the flat and started pecking at each other, both showing off ugly bare arses.
I got on with Colin. He didn’t say much, but he seemed interested in my stories and he was really good with all the animals, I could see that. He was only a few streets away so I visited all the time. I showed him the tricks I’d trained the chickens to do and he was impressed, saying I could help out when the circus started up again. I was proud as anything at that. He spoiled those chickens rotten and Dr Kemp lived to a ripe old age. But Billy Bones died in early ’44. I buried Billy in Colin’s garden and we had a funeral, just me, Colin and Dr Kemp.
It was just as well Billy Bones wasn’t around on 6 June ’44. He hated the sound of planes and would start plucking out his own feathers. ‘You stupid chicken,’ I’d say. ‘Nobody wants to see that pink skin of yours. You peck yourself anymore and I’ll put you straight in the oven.’ But he wasn’t there for me to tell off. I thought of him, though, as the planes roared overhead.
‘We’re going to destroy those Nazi bastards,’ said old Louise, who was curled up on the couch under her tattered fur coat. ‘Do you hear it? That’s the sound of victory.’ She sat up and swayed gently, humming along to the sound of the planes, humming along to the sound of victory and destruction.
There’d been a small party the night before and people had stayed behind; old Louise slept on the couch, Adeline and Ariadne shared Mad’s bed, an old man I didn’t know was on the floor in the sitting room, Betsy was in the bath using her coat as a blanket, and Adam had slept in my bed. LK was snoring away on his camp bed behind the couch; he’d moved in with me when James and Mad took me in and he never did much of anything other than drink and gossip with Potato Pete. He was oblivious to the roar of the planes, but everyone else had been woken by the noise and knew something was up. We had breakfast huddled round the wireless waiting for any news. When the news came that our troops had landed in Normandy, Mad sat nodding as everyone cheered and old Louise started up on the national anthem. LK’s head bobbed up from behind the couch, grumbling at us to shut the hell up and get out of his bedroom but we hushed him and turned up the wireless. We didn’t know if James was involved. He wasn’t able to tell us where he was going to be stationed last time he left. We’d had a few letters, but they were all brief and he wasn’t allowed to write much about the war.
Mad wandered off and came back with a bottle of sherry, doling it out to everyone. She gave me some too and I sipped it. She sat on James’ chair, still in her nightdress, everyone else crumpled in yesterday’s clothes, all of them bleary-eyed but with a glimmer of alert expectation.
People came and went throughout the day and by the evening the flat was packed with people, drinking and singing. I sat with a small group listening to the king on the wireless: ‘…none of us is too busy, too young, or too old, to play a part in the nation-wide vigil of prayer as the great crusade sets forth.’ I prayed. I prayed like mad. O lizards down below I beseech thee, may the German bastards be destroyed, Holy Holy Holy, Amen.