‘Please would you go away and leave Billy alone?’ asked Mr Majeika.
‘No I won’t,’ answered Midge. ‘Don’t pay any attention to me – treat me like a fly on the wall.’
‘A fly on the wall you say?’ came the voice of Wilhelmina Worlock. ‘All right,’ she said, ‘if that’s what you want to be.’ And she closed her eyes and muttered a spell, and Midge turned into a fly, and buzzed around harmlessly with his tiny camera.
‘That’s the last time someone else tries to be Mr Majeika’s worst enemy,’ said Wilhelmina. ‘I am his worst enemy in the world!’
And with that she vanished.
‘I’m sure that won’t be the last we see of her,’ sighed Mr Majeika, ‘but after all, I do suppose life at St Barty’s would be rather dull without her wicked plans.’
When Midge was turned into a real fly on the wall, the television people did not know what to do or who was in charge. When Mr Tottle announced that there would be a circus performance in half an hour, and that it would be shown on television, they thought they might as well do as he said.
‘What’s more,’ said Mr Tottle, ‘Class Three will be taking part.’ Everyone was very pleased about this, except Hamish Bigmore.
Jody was looking worried. She found Mr Majeika, and explained that, back at school, the spell he had sent them hadn’t worked. ‘So I’m worried about Billy,’ she said. ‘I don’t think your spell is strong enough to stop him from falling.’
‘Don’t worry,’ answered Mr Majeika. ‘Everything will be fine. Trust me.’
‘On air in five… four… three… two… one…’ said the floor manager. And then they were on live television, being broadcast to the nation.
The show was a triumph. Jody did her balancing act on the horses, and this time she felt completely in control. Thomas and Pete were clowns and acrobats and really enjoyed themselves. Hannibal the elephant danced, and then Ivan the Terrible lifted him up with his bare hands.
The grand finale was, of course, Billy.He had been watching everyone’s acts from the wings, and he had seen people doing amazing things that he thought they couldn’t possibly have done without Mr Majeika’s magic. But he was still nervous, and the thought that he was on national television made it worse. He remembered the spell that Mr Majeika had taught him, and he sang it to himself under his breath as he climbed to the top of the slack rope:
‘Those magnificent folk on the flying trapeze,
They fly through the air with the greatest of ease.
Never ask how, and never ask why,
But believe in yourself – you’ll be able to fly.’
And then with all the confidence in the world he leapt out on to the rope and danced like he had never danced before. He pulled out his violin from inside his coat and began to play the song.
The rest of the circus, and the whole of Class Three, joined in with Billy and sang, ‘Believe in yourself, you’ll be able to fly!’ It was magnificent.
But just as they were all taking a final bow, they heard an enormous BANG! Hamish Bigmore crashed on to the studio floor wearing a bright red helmet. He had just shot himself out of the cannon! The cameras all turned on to Hamish and he stood up and shouted, ‘Hello, world! This is Hamish Bigmore, human cannonball and exposer of tricks. I am here to tell you that Billy Balance is a fake and he would have fallen off the slack rope if it wasn’t for Mr Majeika.’
Billy looked dejected. He had forgotten in the excitement of it all that he could only do his performance with Mr Majeika’s help.
‘Is that so?’ said Mr Majeika. ‘Well, let’s see you try it then, Hamish.’
‘Yeah I will,’ said Hamish, and he climbed up to the perch at the end of the slack rope and chanted Mr Majeika’s spell, word-for-word. But even holding on to the perch with one hand he wobbled so much that he had to go back.
‘You must be blocking the magic!’ said Hamish. ‘I’ll try it again, louder.’ And he did, shouting as loud as he could (which in the case of Hamish Bigmore is very loud). He stepped on the rope and immediately slid off, only just grabbing it with his hands in time to haul himself back up.
‘You see,’ said Mr Majeika to Billy, ‘that rhyme I gave you wasn’t really a spell after all, just something to help you believe in yourself. I always knew you didn’t really need my magic, if only you could get back your own confidence. You won’t need me to help you with your slack rope any more.’
‘Oh, thank you so much, Mr Majeika!’ said Billy. ‘But are you sure you don’t want to join the circus? Remember what a magical life it can be!’
‘No thank you, Billy,’ said Mr Majeika. ‘I have all the magic I need right here with Class Three.’ And before Billy could say anything else he was gone, and so was the whole of Class Three.
Back home, Mr Potter was drinking the cup of hot water with which he always finished the evening. He thought that he had seen Mr Majeika and the whole of Class Three performing circus tricks on national television. But it couldn’t have been. It just couldn’t. Things like that never happened to children in his school. He switched off his television set.
‘Was there anything good on television this evening, dear?’ called Mr Potter’s wife from the kitchen, where she was cleaning the oven.
‘Not really,’ said Mr Potter, giving an enormous yawn.
Mr Majeika Joins the Circus Page 4
