Molly Moon's Incredible Book of Hypnotism

by Georgia Byng

  The only problem was a woman in the sixth row. “Madam, yes, you in the sixth row, with the sunglasses, please could you take them off.”

  When the woman removed her glasses, Molly found that she was already in a trance. A boy who had been to the bathroom almost slipped through Molly’s net, but she caught him on the way back to his seat. And as he sat down glazy eyed, Molly was confident that every single person there was well and truly in the palm of her hand, sweaty as it was. She’d even eyeballed the light operator. “Now, dim the audience lights again,” Molly told him.

  Under the shiny beam of the spotlight, she began to talk to her audience.

  “You … are all under my command,” she began. “You will all forget that I came onto the stage to read minds. Instead, you will think that I came onstage and …” Molly’s clear instructions reverberated through the guildhall.

  Molly’s act began. All the people sat back in awe. This Molly Moon’s song-and-dance routine was so good, so accomplished, so entertaining, that they felt they were witnessing a star being born. The girl was breathtakingly talented, charismatic, and funny, with an adorable face. She danced so gracefully that her feet didn’t seem to touch the ground. She sang like an angel, and then she told jokes. Such funny jokes! Jokes that made them laugh until they thought their sides would split.

  In reality, Molly was simply standing on the stage, describing to the audience what they thought they were seeing and hearing.

  Before she finished, Molly had a special word with Mrs. Toadley.

  “From now on you will tell everyone you meet what a horrid, bullying teacher you are,” Molly told her, and Mrs. Toadley opened and shut her mouth like a goldfish to show that she agreed.

  Then Molly clapped her hands and instantly brought everyone out of their trances. The whole audience erupted into loud applause, cheers, and wolf whistles. Number thirty-two, Molly Moon. She was obviously and undisputedly the winner. She had more talent in her little toenail than all the others put together. And there she stood, dressed in a very ordinary skirt and top. It just went to show that all those fancy outfits really weren’t necessary. Why, that Molly Moon had such stage presence that she didn’t need a costume or makeup. There was something extra special about this girl. She was just so—likeable. She definitely had that special magic that people call star quality.

  The audience clapped until their hands hurt. Molly stood there, smiling and bowing. She liked this applause and adoration. At last she went to sit down in the front row. People near her congratulated her profusely.

  “M-Molly, that was m-marvelous,” stuttered Mrs. Trinklebury. Even Hazel Hackersly was smiling at her, which Molly found a revolting experience.

  Then the judges walked up the aisle and onto the stage. Mrs. Toadley was second in line after the mayor. “I’m a horrible, bullying teacher, you know,” Molly heard her tell the judge behind her.

  “I know,” he said. “I’ve got a child in your class.”

  As the mayor announced Molly the outstanding winner, the other judges nodded their heads like those nodding toys you see on the back shelves of cars.

  “… quite simply the most talented child this town has ever had the pleasure to watch. So please put your hands together once again for our very own homegrown Molly Moon.”

  Molly stepped up to receive her prize money. She could hardly believe she’d done it. Her fervent wish on the hill above Briersville as she’d gazed at the Qube poster had been to become rich, popular, and good-looking. And now, with a flash of her eyes, those wishes had been granted.

  “Thank you very much,” she said happily.

  As she clutched the fat envelope, full of crisp, new bank notes, she was seized by a strong feeling of wanting to leave the scene of her crime as quickly as possible. So, after posing for a few pictures, she left the stage and walked swiftly out of the building. Before anyone realized she was leaving, she’d walked down the guildhall steps and climbed into the back of her chauffeur-driven minibus.

  “To the Briersville Hotel,” she ordered.

  Edna turned to smile at her, Petula jumped on her lap, and Miss Adderstone looked at her obediently. “Yes, madam.”

  With a screech of rubber tires on the road, the car sped away.

  Twelve

  Everything was going according to plan. Molly and Petula spent the afternoon in a room in the Briersville Hotel. And while it was far from being the best hotel in the world—its beds were old and lopsided and its oak furniture was scratched and worn out—it was a good place for Molly to catch her breath, and Petula found the armchair comfortable.

  Molly instructed Miss Adderstone and Edna to wait for her in the minibus, while she started on the next phase of her plans. She picked up the telephone and called the international operator.

  “The name’s Alabaster. They live in America,” Molly explained.

  “I’m afraid you’ll have to be a bit more precise than that,” the operator replied. “Which state and what’s the town?”

  “Polchester, or Pilchester or Porchester. It’s somewhere near New York City.”

  “I’m sorry, but this is just too vague,” the lady said. “There are thousands of Alabasters in New York…. It would take me all night to go through them.”

  “Are—you—feeling—relaxed?” Molly said slowly.

  “Sorry?” said the operator. “If this is some sort of prank, you can hang up now.”

  “No, er, thanks for your help,” said Molly. She was very disappointed to learn that Rocky was going to be a lot more difficult to find than she’d expected.

  Still, Molly was excited to be in the hotel room. She switched the television on and sat down to count her prize money. Inside the envelope the money was in a bundle held together by a flat piece of paper. Molly ripped the paper off and fanned the cash out like a pack of cards. She had never held a ten-pound note, and never even seen a fifty-pound note, let alone sixty fifty-pound notes! Three thousand pounds looked good, smelled good, and felt good. The money made Molly feel powerful and free. She could go anywhere in the world with £3,000. Australia, India, or China. Or America—to find Rocky! That’s what she would do.

  But first she wanted to get a few things. So, putting the money into her pocket and her hypnotism book under her jacket, she and Petula went shopping.

  Ten minutes later they were walking down Briersville High Street. Molly was carrying a traveling basket for Petula, which she had bought in Animal Love, the pet shop. Petula was looking proud and perky, with a brand-new red collar around her neck.

  Molly stopped at the optician’s and, on a whim, went inside. Five minutes later she came out again, in a pair of sunglasses. She’d always wanted a pair, and now, she felt, they might also be useful to disguise her. She didn’t want people recognizing her from the talent show. Then she continued on around the bend in the road and paused in front of the wooden-framed window of the antique shop, Moldy Old Gold.

  The window display was an eccentric collection of interesting bits and pieces. Mirrored glass balls, cut-glass crystal goblets, silver boxes with secret compartments, a parasol with a parrot handle, magnifying glasses, a corset, a huge ostrich egg, a bowl of wax fruit, a sword, and a pair of Victorian riding boots. And then, on a small velvet platform at the back of the display, a golden disc caught Molly’s eye. On its surface was etched a black spiral that seemed to pull Molly’s eyes toward it. It was beautiful, and though her breath had steamed up the window, she was sure she could see that it was on a chain. It looked exactly like a pendulum should look.

  Molly took off her sunglasses, pushed open the shop door, and stepped inside. An old-fashioned bell rang over the top of the door, alerting the shopkeeper, Mr. Mold, who was at the back polishing a pair of antique spectacles. He briskly licked his fingers, tweaked his bushy eyebrows, and scurried to the front to greet the customer. When he saw a scruffy child with a pug dog, his eagerness faded.

  “Good afternoon,” he said, adjusting his collar.

  �
��Afternoon,” said Molly, looking up from a display case full of jewelry and fancy hairpins.

  “Can I help?” asked Mr. Mold.

  “Yes please. I’d like to have a look at the pendulum from your window display, please.” Molly had decided to treat herself. She needed a proper, heavy pendulum, and it would be the perfect present for herself to celebrate her achievements in hypnotism.

  “A pendulum … hmm …” hummed the shopkeeper.

  He went to the window and reached inside. Then he brought out a tray and put it on the glass counter between him and Molly.

  “I think there may be a pendulum sort of thing in here.”

  Molly looked inside the drawer. It was full of colored bead necklaces, chains, lockets, and pendants, but the pendulum she’d seen wasn’t there.

  “Ah. The one I’m talking about is the golden one on the velvet at the back of the window,” she explained.

  “Hmm.” Mr. Mold coughed. “I’m afraid that pendant will be beyond what you can afford, young lady.” He fetched the antique pendulum on its chain and let Molly admire it. Close up it looked even better than it had seemed before. Its gold was worn but not dented, and the spiral on it was perfectly etched.

  “How much is it?”

  “Well … hmm … five hundred fifty pounds. It’s solid twenty-two-carat gold and rather old. Perhaps this one would be more suited to your purse.” Mr. Mold picked up a pewter necklace with a dull brown stone in it. Molly ignored the pewter piece and studied the golden pendulum. Its spiral seemed to turn as she looked at it. She found it irresistible. She had to have it. She was sick of not being able to afford things. From now on, she’d buy whatever she wanted! With an extravagant gesture, she reached inside her pocket and pulled out her wad of cash. “I’ll take the gold pendulum,” she said politely, and she counted out eleven fifty-pound notes.

  Mr. Mold stared. “You must have been lucky at the races!”

  “No, lucky at the talent competition,” Molly explained.

  “Oh! So you’re the girl who won! My granddaughter called me and told me about you. She said you were just fabulous!” The old man couldn’t disguise his amazement. He was astonished that a girl as ordinary looking, as ugly even, as Molly could be thought of as “cute,” “gorgeous,” and “lovely”—which was how his granddaughter had described her.

  He shook Molly’s clammy hand. “So you had them all cracking their ribs laughing,” he said, half hoping Molly would do an impersonation for him or tell him a joke.

  “Mmmnnn,” Molly said, smiling enigmatically.

  “So you’re buying yourself a present.” The shopkeeper pressed the button on the till, making it open with a ting, and slipped the £550 into its drawer.

  “Yup.”

  “And where did you learn to perform like that?”

  Molly was so happy and excited that she didn’t mind telling him. “From a very old book,” she said mysteriously, tapping the big, heavy shape under her jacket.

  “You’re joking!”

  “No, I’m not. It’s a very special book.”

  “Which is why you’re carrying it about with you,” said the shopkeeper.

  “You got it,” said Molly.

  Mr. Mold wrapped Molly’s purchase. “Thank you, and enjoy your pendant.”

  “Thank you. Good-bye.”

  As Molly tucked the parcel into her pocket and turned to leave, the bell above the shop door rang, and another customer came in. In a cloud of cigarillo smoke he bustled past Molly, knocking her slightly.

  Molly stepped out of the shop, pulling up the collar of her scruffy blue jacket and putting her new sunglasses on again. Mr. Mold gazed after her.

  The new customer blocked his view. “Let me have another look at the pair of glasses you showed me this morning,” he demanded.

  “Ah yes, Professor Nockman,” said Mr. Mold, shaken from his daze. He pulled the spectacles that he’d been polishing earlier out of his top pocket and put them on the counter. “You’d never guess it, but that girl out there has just won the town talent competition!”

  His impatient customer wasn’t at all concerned with modern Briersville life. But he did have an interest in Briersville life a hundred years ago. He’d been into Mr. Mold’s shop several times since he’d discovered that the elderly antique dealer knew the story of the town’s famous Dr. Logan and that Mr. Mold had even bought and sold artifacts that had been used in Logan’s traveling hypnotism show.

  Today Professor Nockman was back in the shop because of the pair of antique spectacles that was on the counter now. They had black lenses with a white swirling pattern on them and were said to have once belonged to Dr. Mesmer himself.

  “Supposed to be protection against hypnotic eyes,” Mr. Mold had explained. “Fun but foolish. But, I should think,” he had added hopefully, “very appropriate for your museum collection.”

  The spectacles were expensive, and Professor Nockman hadn’t decided whether to buy them or not. He picked them up and scratched at his oiled mustache with a plump, long-nailed finger. Mr. Mold continued to stare down the high street at Molly and Petula, who were strolling along, looking in shop windows.

  “Apparently she can dance like Ginger Rogers. My granddaughter thought she was beautiful! She looks quite plain to me. Well, I suppose it’s all in the eyes of the beholder.”

  “Yeah, whatever,” said the professor, trying the strange spectacles on and looking up at the ceiling.

  “She bought herself a beautiful gold pendant, although she called it a pendulum. A funny thing for a child to buy. I hope she doesn’t fritter all that prize money away.”

  “A pendulum?” said Professor Nockman, suddenly giving the shopkeeper his full attention. He turned his swirly spectacle-clad eyes upon him. “How much money did she win?”

  “Three thousand pounds, I believe. It’s amazing, isn’t it? She looks so ordinary. Well, you know what they say, ‘Don’t judge a book by its cover.’ And talking of books, when I asked her where she learned to perform like that, she said, ‘From a very special old book.’ What an eccentric child!”

  “What book?” demanded Nockman, his nose twitching like a dog’s that had just picked up a scent.

  “Some book she’s carrying.”

  Professor Nockman snatched off the antique spectacles and, at last, looked out into the street at the girl. She was reading the ads outside the newspaper stand, and held awkwardly in the crook of her arm, under her jacket, was the hard-edged shape of a large, rectangular object. Nockman gasped. He’d hit the jackpot. He was sure of it. His mind raced as he thought about what Mr. Mold had been saying. The girl had bought a pendulum and won a whole load of money; everyone thought she was gorgeous but she wasn’t, and the secret of her success lay in a special old book. A book she obviously didn’t want anyone to see, since she was hiding it under her jacket. Nockman’s gut instinct surged up and told him that the shape under the odd-looking girl’s jacket was, without any shadow of a doubt, his hypnotism book.

  Molly and Petula were now disappearing around the corner. The professor lunged for the door handle, then remembered the spectacles.

  “I’ll take the glasses,” he said. “How much did you say they were?”

  “They’re absolutely unique,” said Mr. Mold shrewdly. “Four hundred fifty pounds.” He handed the silver-rimmed spectacles over.

  Nockman’s mind was galloping. He knew the shopkeeper was charging too much, but if they were really effective antihypnotism glasses, he might need them, and he didn’t have time to bargain.

  “I’ll take them.” Professor Nockman put the money out on the desk. “Don’t bother wrapping them,” he said. “And if you get anything else on hypnotism, call me in the States. Here’s my number.”

  “Certainly,” said the shopkeeper happily. He’d never sold so much in an afternoon. It had been a good idea to open on a Sunday after all. “Good-bye.”

  Professor Nockman hurried out of the shop, threw his cigarillo on the ground, and looked
frantically for the girl. Burping with excitement, he puffed his way down the street in the direction she had taken.

  Molly and Petula, meanwhile, had returned to the hotel, where Miss Adderstone and Edna were faithfully waiting in the minibus.

  Molly went to her room, collected her knapsack, and came down to pay her bill. Then she went to the minibus and climbed in. Petula hopped in after her.

  “Where to, miss?” Miss Adderstone asked in her rubbery-mouthed voice (still not wearing her false teeth).

  “The airport,” Molly said confidently. She sat back and gave Petula a good stroke.

  Professor Nockman, who’d been looking for the girl in other shops, bustled into the drive of the hotel just as a blue minibus was pulling out. The driver had a mad look in her eye and seemed to be wearing a pair of knickers on her head. As the vehicle turned into the traffic, Professor Nockman caught a second glimpse of the plain-looking talent-contest winner. She was sitting in the back of the minibus like a starlet, with a pug dog beside her and a big, burgundy-colored book on her knee, and through the low window he saw that she was holding what was, unmistakably, a passport.

  Professor Nockman knew that the girl had the hypnotism book. He dived for the back of the minibus. But he missed the vehicle completely and tripped over his feet instead. Getting a mouthful of exhaust, he started to panic. Nockman realized that the hypnotism book, his book, was sliding away from him. The book was essential to his plan—his brilliantly conceived, secret plan that was going to catapult him to the top of his profession. Without it he’d never achieve his aims. Now there was a good chance that the girl with the passport planned to take it far, far away. Desperately Nockman ran, huffing and puffing, into the hotel and rushed upstairs to his room. He threw everything into his suitcase and charged back down.

  “Are you leaving, sir?” asked the receptionist, alarmed. “Have you paid your bill?”