Diary of a Reluctant Ruler

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“Circus,” James announced to me, the first Saturday after New Year.

College was back on, New Year’s resolutions already broken, and my list lacked only thirteen items, out of the original forty.

“Circus?” I asked, attempting to screw in a light bulb.

“Yup, there’s one visiting Rous, and it’s on your list. So it’s a wig affair and this evening; I’ve already gained permission.”

I wobbled vaguely on my chair, as the light fitting struggled against me.

“Sounds- Yeargh!”

It fell apart in a final suicidal attempt to resist control.

“Maybe I should do it,” James said, getting up, “Your attempt probably counts- I’ll tick it off the list.”

I passed him the screwdriver whose use had evolved at an early stage; my idea of taking a light bulb out was not exactly the accepted one.

“Do I get to drive the car there?” I asked hopefully, “Kill two birds with one stone?”

“Er, maybe not,” James replied, fixing the fitting with a flick, “So, is that a yes?”

“Definitely!” I cried, “Bring on the clowns!”

Er, actually, I’m a little afraid of crowns.

Wig? Check. Beanie? Check. Wallet? Check…

Wallet? That’s a man’s word.

Oh really?

Yes. I own a purse.

And you’re a softie.

Tickets? Dunno, I’ll have to ask James… A short walk later and;

“James?” I called, into his room, which was surprisingly dark.

“Hang on!” he called back.

He blinked as his pupils reassessed the light.

“Why were you in the dark?” I asked.

“Helps me think,” he replied, then caught my puzzled look; “Been writing lyrics.”

“Oh, cool… how did you write in the dark?”

“Well, they’re only in my head at the moment, but they’re there.”

I smiled at his eccentricity.

The circus had set up camp, quite literally, about half a miles walk from Rous, in a large abandoned field, which was half paved with concrete from an old industrial state. Neon lights flashed rather blindingly, and the enticing smells of hot syrup, roast chestnuts and pancakes danced around my nose.

“Ooo!”

“Ooo what?” James asked.

“Ooo they have a very big tent,” I replied, “It’s like the one in Dumbo.”

“That film used to scare me,” James mumbled.

“What? How?”

“Dunno,” he answered, avoiding my eyes.

“Hey, you’re not telling me something,” I prodded him with our interlocked fingers.

“Don’t poke me with my own fingers!” James complained.

“Oh, shush,” I smiled, kissing his cheek.

Inside the tent was strangely cold, but filling quick with the heat from the expanding audience; James steered me down towards two seats three rows back. We sat down, and I noticed him looking upwards; uncomfort hinted in the set of his mouth.

“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls!” called out the ring leader, resplendent in a top hat and tails, “Welcome to the Cirque Du Ciel!”

Performers exploded from behind the curtain, tumbling, swinging, prancing on horses – I jumped in my seat at the sudden entrance. James smiled next to me, but it didn’t extend to his eyes. I turned away bemused, and focused on the performers. It was during the trapeze act that I realised.

James was afraid of heights.

I giggled, and he turned to look at me.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I replied, “It’s just-”

“What?” he asked again.

“You’re afraid of heights, aren’t you?” I asked, softly.

“I’m not afraid of heights,” he denied, frowning.

He looks like Olly saying she’s not afraid of horses.

“Oh?”

“I just find it uncomfortable sitting here, watching people throw themselves around blindly,” James replied, “It’s not something I’d choose to do myself.”

“James, you don’t have to deny it,” I said.

James frowned again, “I fell out of a tree once.”

“Ouch?” I said, unsure of how to reply.

“Broke my arm,” he continued, “And I haven’t been able to climb a tree since.”

“But you climbed that ladder earlier?” I pointed out.

“Phil, that was a ladder. I’m not bothered by a few metres.”

“Well, how far up the tree were you?” I wondered aloud.

“It was a tall tree, and I was small.”

James seemed tense discussing it, so I put my hand over his tentatively, and let the subject rest. He froze for a moment, then wound his fingers through mine. I smiled, happy to simply be there with him. I leant my head against his shoulder, perfectly happy.

Little did I know how short a time we had left.