Becoming Billy Dare by Kirsty Murray

watched the white-clad figure flying above the audience and held his breath. In a single, swift movement, the man performed a somersault in the air and then landed gracefully on the back of one of the white horses. The audience cheered and Paddy cheered louder than any single one of them.
    At the end of the show, Paddy went in search of Harry Sears. He found him sitting at the back of the big top drinking out of a tin mug.
    â€˜Mr Sears, I hear you've been looking for someone to sign on as a hand. I'd like the job, please, sir.’
    â€˜How old are you boy?
    â€˜I'm nearly fifteen,’ said Paddy, adding a few months to his age.
    â€˜You're a big fella for fifteen.’
    Paddy tried not to smile too broadly.
    â€˜Too big to train up for the circus. And too small for the sort of work a general hand has to do.’ Harry emptied his mug and stood up.
    â€˜I'm fit for anything. I worked on a clipper doing plenty of hard work,’ said Paddy urgently, following Harry. ‘I used to help my ma on the farm back in Ireland. I'm not shy of work, sir.’
    â€˜You're keen enough, that's for sure. You know we're a travelling concern. We're taking to the road tomorrow, heading north to Sydney. Your old man give you permission to sign on?’
    â€˜I'm an orphan, sir, so I'm not needing anyone's permission,’ said Paddy.
    â€˜All right then. You be here before dawn tomorrow to help load up and I'll take you on as a general hand. Two shillings a week and your fare.’
    Paddy grinned. He walked away whistling. He slept under a bridge that night but as soon as the dawn rays crept over the city, he was back at the circus site, where the men were already at work loading up. There were eight wagons of gear and fourteen men and boys including Paddy, plus Ma Sears, her sister and a confusing array of small children.
    They took the road north out of Melbourne towards Warburton, past blossoming orchards. Paddy took a deep breath of the sweet, crisp air. He was glad to turn his back on the sea and see the horizon broken by forest and farmland. Beyond the orchards, flat golden fields folded out on either side of the road. Everything in Australia seemed to sit at strange angles to the world - the wild and the tame, the ordinary and the extraordinary. One day he was shipwrecked on a white beach, the next he was lost on the streets of a city and now he was travelling an endless open road.
    They stopped in the late afternoon, at the edge of a village called Box Hill. There were no box trees and no hill that Paddy could make out, only a small dusty township. The men set to work raising the big top in an open field on the edge of town. Everyone helped unload the wagons, the smallest children staggering under the weight of ropes and canvas.
    Harry Sears came over and thrust a big bass drum at Paddy. ‘Here you are, time to drum up a crowd for this evening's show.’
    â€˜But I've never played a drum before,’ said Paddy, holding the instrument at arm's length, as if it might explode.
    â€˜Ain't nothing to it, boy. Go and see Ma Sears and get her to give you an outfit, then strap this thing on and whack the billyo out of it. Everyone has to play in the band. It's the only way we're going to bring Box Hill to the show.’
    Half an hour later, Paddy was marching through the village, banging on the drum with half a dozen of the other men squawking on battered brass trumpets, trombones and euphoniums. It didn't sound much like music, but the noise drew people out of their homes and into the street to watch. Paddy spun the padded drumsticks around and did a little dance step as he followed the other players. A small girl standing by her front gate waved at him and Paddy took off his hat and tossed it in the air, catching it on his head as he walked past. Paddy felt a satisfying glow at the sound of the girl's laughter.
    That night, around sixty locals paid a shilling each to watch the show. After the crowds