Shutterspeed by Erwin Mortier

Author:Erwin Mortier [Erwin Mortier]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781782270881
Publisher: Pushkin Press
Published: 2014-03-03T16:00:00+00:00

The lights in the tent went down, the buzz of voices died away. The band sounded off a drum roll followed by a fanfare of trumpets, and stepping out from behind the curtain were the purple girls in shiny leotards with purple beads round their ankles. They did a pirouette, fluttering their arms gracefully over their heads as the curtain divided to reveal a man in jodhpurs and riding boots and a white carnation on his tailcoat lapel. He strode to the centre of the ring, spread out his arms and boomed: ‘Mesdames Messieurs, bonsoir! Good evening to you all!’

He crossed to the other side of the ring, where the girl and Hélène were sitting in their box, made a gallant bow and boomed with mock deference: ‘Your highness …’

There was a ripple of laughter from the benches. The girl glanced up at Hélène Vuylsteke, unsure of how to behave.

‘Oh my, such a fine-looking feller,’ Aunt sighed, and she started clapping along with everyone else. ‘Dark Eyetalian type …’

‘Fake tan,’ Uncle grumbled. ‘Laid it on with a trowel, he has.’

The Italian returned to the middle of the ring. A marvellous time would be had by all, he promised, ‘an evening of death-defying, daring and dangerous feats of fantasy, graciously accompanied by Freddy Brack und seine Capelle with Viva España, and for your special delectation, ladies and gentlemen, our first spectacle, all the way from France – Mario Marconi and his calibrated zebras!’

The trumpets sounded and the purple girls clacked their castanets.

‘Oh good show!’ Uncle enthused. ‘My favourite – dobbins in pyjamas!’

I saw Aunt nudging his thigh with the back of her hand a few times, but he took no notice.

The zebras wore yellow plumes on their heads and cantered round the ring, driven by a trainer with a whip. His naked torso was bound with leather straps so tight his flesh bulged out on all sides.

The whip cracked, the zebras trotted on the spot, turning on their axis. There was a burst of applause. The girl was jigging up and down on her seat with excitement. Hélène Vuylsteke shushed her, lifted the hat with the big bow from her head and smoothed her hair.

The act ended with all the zebras rearing up in close formation. Hardly had the tail of the last one vanished behind the curtain when the clowns Titi and Toto waddled into the ring in their oversized shoes. They sat on the same invisible chairs as last year and Uncle almost fell off his own out of sheer hilarity.

‘Werner, do try to control yourself,’ Aunt sighed, but when Titi lowered himself on to a bedpan attached to a string which was jerked away by Toto at the last moment, Uncle almost died laughing.

‘What a scream,’ he gasped, holding his sides.

Aunt was embarrassed.

Next came a sketch with a bucket of confetti and a stepladder with wonky rungs, and before the women had finished dabbing their eyes with their handkerchiefs the following act was already being announced: Nina Valencia and her ten grass-green poodles.

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