AT THAT EXACT moment, Cornelius Quaint returned to Hyde Park. The white sky was beginning to turn pale grey, as the invisible sun prepared for the long, chilly night to come. Quaint turned up the collar on his coat, and strode briskly across the park, catching sight of the circus in the distance, now taking on even more shape, practically completed. Quaint made a mental note to congratulate his team.
As he approached Madame Destine's tent he whistled the national anthem, the tent having no door upon which to knock and announce himself.
'It's me, Madame. I have returned, and I'm exhausted. Tell Butter to boil some water, will you…I need a brew. On second thoughts, crack open that cognac I know you've got stashed in your tent.'
Destine pulled the tent entrance to once side, and swiftly dragged Quaint inside. Ruby Marstrand was seated at a round table set for two, a crystal ball in the centre of the table. There was an uncomfortable silence tangible in the tent, and Quaint's curiosity was immediately piqued.
'Madame?' he gasped. 'Oh, sorry Ruby, I didn't realise you were busy. Shall I come back later?'
'Oh, Cornelius-it is you!' Destine said, her veiled face unable to hide her anguish. Her voice faltered as she saw him.
'Well, of course it's me, Madame,' he said, gripping hold of the Frenchwoman's shoulders firmly, as she fell into his embrace. 'You look scared to death, woman. Who were you expecting it to be?'
Ruby stood from the table and joined Destine's side. 'Ah, well, we thought that maybe it was…Prometheus coming back, you see.'
'Coming back? Coming back from where?' asked Quaint.
Ruby looked towards Destine for assistance.
'Back from where?' repeated Quaint. 'Where is he? One of you must know.'
'Um, have you asked Butter?' Ruby said, resting her hand on Destine's shoulder. 'Maybe he'll know. We saw him talking to Prometheus earlier, didn't we, Destine.'
Quaint stared at Ruby's expression. Her toffee-coloured eyes were wide, and her swathe of thick hair was entwined around her fingers, the very image of someone trying their hardest to look innocent. Madame Destine was no different, deliberately avoiding eye contact with him.
'Very well, ladies,' Quaint said sternly, placing his hands flat on the table in front of him. His bold black eyes zeroed in on Destine and Ruby with an uncompromising glare. 'Tell me everything…'