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Jun. 1st, 2012 09:51 pmIt was all over the headlines a few days later.
'Gypsies loot elderly lady's bombed home'
Horrifying. Carlotta has no idea who took a photograph of the circus folk rescuing her Grandma's precious things - which, incidentally, she picked up from them an hour later - but she has to agree it looks bad. A nosy neighbour, perhaps.
She calls the group together for an emergency meeting and they agree that they have to make a statement to the press, but try to leave Carlotta's grandmother's relationship to them out of it.
But soon, it becomes clear that the villagers have other ideas. By afternoon, Fred, who has become the 'muscle' of the group, warns them that a mob is approaching.
"Gather y'kids, we got a mob!" he calls out, hopping down from the roof of his caravan.
They have a drill. Everyone makes sure their own kid is accounted for; angry mobs have been known to ignite caravans, so they're safer visible in arms. Carlotta puts on her Ringmaster hat, heads to the caravan creche, and scoops up Molly and puts her in a sling on her back. Little William, she hands to Rita.
Then she strides towards the mob.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, the allegations are a misunderstanding. We were asked to take care of some property to protect it from looters, and the owner collected it shortly after."
"Rubbish!" A woman at the front of the mob steps forward. And there is a flash, suddenly, of recognition, between her and Carlotta.
"Why, it's Sour-milk Prudence!" Carlotta exclaims in surprise. A few of the circus folk hide a giggle.
"Lady Prudence." Prudence says, with a look that could kill. "Carlotta Brown, you've sunk even lower!"
"Ye'll not be speakin' to the Ringmaster in that manner." Fred says, firmly. "We have explained our innocence in the matter, and if ye'd like, one of you can be given a tour to show it ain't in the caravans. Or better yet, ask the lady ye claim it was stolen from."
As the mime takes a nominated mob member to prove the stuff isn't there, Prudence turns up her nose at Carlotta, as though she smells badly.
"Is that urchin yours?" she asks, indicating Molly, who has peeped over her shoulder. Molly, like her mother, appears to have a talent for getting caked in mud any moment after being put on the floor, no matter how often she is changed. Right now is no exception.
"Molly is not an urchin." Carlotta says. "Urchins are sea creatures. Didn't you go to school again after you were expelled from St Clare's?"
Prudence goes red, and a few of the crowd murmur.
At that moment, a Rolls Royce pulls up, and Carlotta's grandmother steps out. She's wearing a look of dignity, of determination, and she strides up to the mob and stands on the side of the circus folk.
"This... this is my granddaughter, Carlotta. She was born a circus girl like her mother, my daughter in law. She now owns a circus of her own, a woman in a man's role, and doing it awfully well too. I am proud of her, and many of my things would have been lost without her and her circus' efforts yesterday."
The mob stares in silence, astonished that a woman like Mrs Brown would be related to circus folk. Carlotta's grandma reaches over and picks Molly out of the sling, holding the grubby little girl with a gentle and practiced maternal air.
"Please leave the circus folk alone now." she says. "I will speak to the newspaper and have them correct the story."
As the mob disperse, Carlotta manages not to pull a face at Sour-milk Prudence, and turns to her grandmother.
"I thought you wanted to keep me secret?" she says. "Because... you were ashamed."
"I'm not ashamed of you." Grandma says, stroking Molly's hair. "I'm proud of you, like I said. And losing my home... has only reminded me that I have spent my life obsessed with owning... things. There are more important things in life, and you are one of them."
Carlotta hugs her, gently around Molly.
"Thank you." She kisses them both gently. "You know, you'd be welcome to come with us."
"Heavens, I'm too old to be sleeping in a caravan with my back." Grandma says. "But thank you."
'Gypsies loot elderly lady's bombed home'
Horrifying. Carlotta has no idea who took a photograph of the circus folk rescuing her Grandma's precious things - which, incidentally, she picked up from them an hour later - but she has to agree it looks bad. A nosy neighbour, perhaps.
She calls the group together for an emergency meeting and they agree that they have to make a statement to the press, but try to leave Carlotta's grandmother's relationship to them out of it.
But soon, it becomes clear that the villagers have other ideas. By afternoon, Fred, who has become the 'muscle' of the group, warns them that a mob is approaching.
"Gather y'kids, we got a mob!" he calls out, hopping down from the roof of his caravan.
They have a drill. Everyone makes sure their own kid is accounted for; angry mobs have been known to ignite caravans, so they're safer visible in arms. Carlotta puts on her Ringmaster hat, heads to the caravan creche, and scoops up Molly and puts her in a sling on her back. Little William, she hands to Rita.
Then she strides towards the mob.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, the allegations are a misunderstanding. We were asked to take care of some property to protect it from looters, and the owner collected it shortly after."
"Rubbish!" A woman at the front of the mob steps forward. And there is a flash, suddenly, of recognition, between her and Carlotta.
"Why, it's Sour-milk Prudence!" Carlotta exclaims in surprise. A few of the circus folk hide a giggle.
"Lady Prudence." Prudence says, with a look that could kill. "Carlotta Brown, you've sunk even lower!"
"Ye'll not be speakin' to the Ringmaster in that manner." Fred says, firmly. "We have explained our innocence in the matter, and if ye'd like, one of you can be given a tour to show it ain't in the caravans. Or better yet, ask the lady ye claim it was stolen from."
As the mime takes a nominated mob member to prove the stuff isn't there, Prudence turns up her nose at Carlotta, as though she smells badly.
"Is that urchin yours?" she asks, indicating Molly, who has peeped over her shoulder. Molly, like her mother, appears to have a talent for getting caked in mud any moment after being put on the floor, no matter how often she is changed. Right now is no exception.
"Molly is not an urchin." Carlotta says. "Urchins are sea creatures. Didn't you go to school again after you were expelled from St Clare's?"
Prudence goes red, and a few of the crowd murmur.
At that moment, a Rolls Royce pulls up, and Carlotta's grandmother steps out. She's wearing a look of dignity, of determination, and she strides up to the mob and stands on the side of the circus folk.
"This... this is my granddaughter, Carlotta. She was born a circus girl like her mother, my daughter in law. She now owns a circus of her own, a woman in a man's role, and doing it awfully well too. I am proud of her, and many of my things would have been lost without her and her circus' efforts yesterday."
The mob stares in silence, astonished that a woman like Mrs Brown would be related to circus folk. Carlotta's grandma reaches over and picks Molly out of the sling, holding the grubby little girl with a gentle and practiced maternal air.
"Please leave the circus folk alone now." she says. "I will speak to the newspaper and have them correct the story."
As the mob disperse, Carlotta manages not to pull a face at Sour-milk Prudence, and turns to her grandmother.
"I thought you wanted to keep me secret?" she says. "Because... you were ashamed."
"I'm not ashamed of you." Grandma says, stroking Molly's hair. "I'm proud of you, like I said. And losing my home... has only reminded me that I have spent my life obsessed with owning... things. There are more important things in life, and you are one of them."
Carlotta hugs her, gently around Molly.
"Thank you." She kisses them both gently. "You know, you'd be welcome to come with us."
"Heavens, I'm too old to be sleeping in a caravan with my back." Grandma says. "But thank you."
