“So, you’re staying with Lola?”

“Yes, and Violet.”

“That’ll be fun.”

“Are you being sarcastic?”

“Are you?”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re weird.”

He took a step forward and stared down at me, teeth flashing as he spoke. “And I bet I could make you like it.”

If anyone else had said this to me, I would have thought they were flirting, but not with this guy. No, with this guy it sounded more like a taunt. I narrowed my gaze at him, deciding I was done with this encounter and my unrequited attraction, and returned to the lounge. I checked my phone for the time, relieved that I couldn’t get a signal out here. I’d bet Mum was wearing a hole on her dialling pad trying to get in touch with me. I had my fingers crossed that by the time I got to France, she’d have calmed down. If my estimations were correct, we had another eight hours of sailing to do. I pulled a sketch pad out of my bag and began to draw the family sitting in front of me. A little kid played with an iPad while the mother snoozed and the father perused a newspaper. I was so lost in the drawing that I didn’t hear Lola when she came to sit beside me.

“You’re really good,” she commented, and it made me smile. At home my art was always something I had to sneak and hide. I never really got to show it to people, so I appreciated her compliment more than she might have guessed.

“Thanks.”

The hours passed slowly, and when we finally arrived in Cherbourg, I was so ready to set foot on solid ground. It wasn’t to be, though, as we had another hour and a half drive to Caen, where the circus would be stopping to do a week of shows. It was just after two in the morning, so my first impressions of France were shrouded in darkness. When we reached the site where we’d be spending the next week, it was starting to get bright. I was amazed when the men began immediately setting up the Spiegeltent. Where did they get their energy come from? Perhaps they’d slept for most of the ferry journey.

I spread my sleeping bag out on the bed and crawled into it, deciding I’d get a couple hours of sleep in. Lola was already there, snoring away. Sharing a tiny room with this girl was definitely going to be an experience.

When I woke up, it was mid-morning, and two men were helping Violet connect the camper van to the water and electricity mains on the site. I recognised Pedro, who winked at me (I think because I hadn’t put on a bra yet), and one of the other stuntmen. Lola had told me on the ferry that his name was Luan. I thought she might have a thing for him because she gushed a little about what a nice guy he was. He was tall, with tightly cut dark hair and brown eyes.

Apparently, the circus didn’t do any shows on Mondays or Tuesdays, because those were usually travelling days where they moved from one site to the next. That gave me a day to find my bearings.

Violet surprised me when she smiled and told me there was coffee inside if I wanted some. I poured myself a cup and took a walk. The newest host to the circus looked like some sort of camping site that was surrounded by trees and greenery on either side. I thought that we must have been situated just outside of town and wondered if we were within walking distance. I would need to buy food and some toiletries soon.

Sitting on the grass, I pulled out my phone to find that Mum had tried to call me a grand total of twenty-five times and left eleven voicemails. The very idea made my stomach twist, so I decided to put off listening to them for a while. Instead, I spent a few minutes reading up on Caen. Everything had happened so quickly that I’d hardly had time to research where I was actually going. The frenzied decision to come here made me feel dizzy with glee. I was breaking free from the monotony my life had been, and it felt glorious.

It turned out that Caen was in Normandy and was the largest city in the region. The pictures that came up showed some beautiful architecture, and I got excited just thinking about going exploring. Perhaps I’d meet a handsome Frenchman, he’d tell me I was beautiful, and we’d enjoy a whirlwind romance. Of course, it would all end in heartbreak when I had to move on to the next city. The idea was surprisingly appealing. I wanted to get my heart broken. I wanted to live through every high and low, because otherwise I wouldn’t be living.

I rummaged in the back pocket of my jeans and pulled out my list to add one more item. Grabbing the sketching pencil that was perennially tucked behind my ear, I scribbled down number eleven.

11.  Get my heart broken.

Coincidentally, Jack was walking by, lugging a crate of water bottles, just as I finished writing. He glanced at me, then at the paper in my hand. I quickly folded it up and shoved it back in my pocket, sheepish. Jack McCabe was certainly the heart-breaking type. Unfortunately, I didn’t think I had a chance of getting close enough to him in order to have my heart broken. Oh, well. If worst came to worst, there was always Pedro.

Jack frowned and continued on his way. He was always frowning at me.

Marina called me over to her camper then and offered me a croissant for breakfast. I took it gladly.

“Tell me, Lille,” she said as I sat in the kitchen of her overly frilly motorhome. I swear to God, she had doilies on everything. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had them hanging over her toilet seat, to be perfectly honest. “Are you any good with numbers?”

“Numbers?” I asked.

“Okay, so I may have had an ulterior motive for asking you to join us.”

The phrase “ulterior motive” sounded positively thrilling to me, so I smiled and nodded for her to continue.

“You see, I heard your boss thanking you for helping her out with her accounts while I was in the restaurant last week. And I desperately need someone to help me with mine. King usually does it, but he’s been hitting the bottle more and more lately, so I can’t rely on him. Do you think you could have a look at the circus’ finances? Clean up the numbers for me?”

Okay, maybe not so thrilling, then. I had no idea who King was, and I didn’t ask. “Oh right. Well, I study business at college. I hate it, really, but accounting is probably the part I hate the least. I’m reluctantly good at it. So yeah, I’d be happy to look over your accounts for you if that’s what you’d like.”

Marina smiled widely. “I’d definitely like that.”

And that was how I spent the rest of my day, holed up in Marina’s camper, working on spreadsheets. It was a twisted sort of joke. I’d run away with the circus in order to escape all this, and here I was doing exactly what I was trying to get away from. Still, the familiarity of the task soothed me while I tried to get used to the fact that I definitely wasn’t in Kansas anymore.

It turned out that the Circus Spektakulär was actually raking in a decent profit; however, the records of those profits were an out-and-out mess. I still had a lot of tidying up to do, but I told Marina I’d continue working on it tomorrow morning. For now, I needed something to eat and some sleep.

It was starting to get dark when I found Violet and Lola back at our camper. They were sitting on folding chairs outside, eating noodles and drinking wine while listening to the soundtrack from Les Miserables.

Before I could feel awkward about asking for food, Lola told me to help myself to the last of the noodles in the pot. There wasn’t a third folding chair, so I sat on the grass and hungrily shovelled down the noodles in my bowl. They were drowned in some sort of soy sauce that tasted delicious, probably because I was starving.

“I heard Jack and Marina arguing today in the gazebo,” Violet said, breaking the companionable silence we’d been sharing. She was looking at me, and I didn’t know why.

“Oh, juicy gossip. Do you think they’re having a sordid sugar momma/boy toy love affair?” Lola asked with intrigue, and I couldn’t help but laugh.