by Heather Dyer
“You knew about it?” cried Alex.
“Of course!”
“You never told us!”
Aunt Carole looked uncomfortable. “No. Perhaps we should have. But we didn’t want any more magicians in the family – not after what happened to your uncle.”
“Does Mum know too?” asked Ibby.
Aunt Carole nodded.
“But if you knew about the magic set,” said Alex, “why didn’t you try to bring Uncle Godfrey back yourselves?”
“We did!” said Aunt Carole. “At first we didn’t know what had happened – Godfrey hadn’t told us how his tricks were done. But when the police returned his magic set and all his other props, we found the Magic for Beginners instruction booklet. Well – it was all there, wasn’t it, in black and white? The Vanishing Act! So we tried it – lots of times – but nothing worked. Uncle Godfrey never reappeared. We did our best, but we’re not magicians.”
“Couldn’t another magician have helped?” asked Ibby.
Aunt Carole shook her head. “They didn’t want to get involved for legal reasons.”
“What about the Magic Circle?”
“They were very sorry, they said, but all magic tricks were undertaken at the magician’s own risk, and it was their policy not to divulge their methods to members of the public.”
“The less people know about magic, the better,” said Uncle Godfrey. “It’s the only way to prevent it falling into the wrong hands.”
Francis had been listening thoughtfully. Now, for the first time, he spoke. “Maybe,” he said, “you weren’t holding the wand the right way round.”
Aunt Carole blinked. “There’s a right way round?”
“Of course!”
At this, Aunt Carole looked so dismayed that Uncle Godfrey laughed and put his arm around her shoulders. “Not to worry,” he said. “You did your best.”
Aunt Carole shook her head. To think that all this could have been avoided if only Godfrey hadn’t climbed into that trunk! “Whatever made you let that boy do the Vanishing Act in the first place?” she said.
Uncle Godfrey looked sheepish. “It was his birthday.”
“Well, never mind,” said Aunt Carole. “You’re back now. That’s the main thing. Let’s go down and have a cup of tea.”
So they proceeded downstairs – a happy but dishevelled group, with Uncle Godfrey in his crumpled suit and the others in their pyjamas. But they were only halfway down the stairs when the doorbell rang and a familiar voice called through the letterbox, “Yoo-hoo! Is anybody home!”
Ibby ran down the last few stairs and along the hall. “It’s Mum and Dad!” she cried. “They’re back!”
CHAPTER 17
Advanced Magic
“CAUTION: SOME EXPERIENCE NECESSARY.”
It was unfortunate that the first thing Ibby’s mother saw when the door opened was Ibby smiling proudly in the black top hat and satin cloak. Just behind her was Uncle Godfrey, waving cheerfully.
Ibby’s mother’s smile faded. She went very white, and then she closed her eyes and sank gracefully to the ground.
“Good Lord!” said Uncle Godfrey. “She’s fainted!” He and Ibby’s father picked her up and carried her inside. They laid her on the couch and slapped her cheeks, and eventually her eyes opened. She looked first at Uncle Godfrey, whom she had never thought to see again, and then at Ibby, who she barely recognized beneath the brim of the black top hat. Then her lids fluttered for the second time, and her head lolled to one side.
“Good Lord!” said Uncle Godfrey. “She’s fainted again!”
“A cup of tea is what she needs,” Aunt Carole said, and she ran to the kitchen to put the kettle on.
Moments later, Ibby’s mother was revived by the sounds of the tea tray arriving and the tea being poured. She sat up, blinked, and said, “Godfrey? Is that really you?”
“Yes, Ruth,” he said. “It is.”
There were exclamations, hugs and tears then, of course. Ibby’s father shook Uncle Godfrey’s hand and clapped him on the shoulder, and Uncle Godfrey said, “Has it really been five years?” And Ibby’s father said yes, and yet Uncle Godfrey didn’t look as though he’d aged a day.
“But where have you been?” cried Ibby’s mother.
“In the trunk!” said Uncle Godfrey cheerfully.
“How did you get back?”
“The children rescued me.”
“The children?”
“Yes!”
And then everyone began talking at once. Ibby’s mother listened with her eyes growing wider and wider, until they got to the part about Ibby waving the magic wand and opening the trunk and finding Uncle Godfrey still inside.
“Ibby brought you back?” she said, and she looked at Ibby standing there in the black top hat and satin cloak as though seeing her properly for the first time.
“Yes,” said Uncle Godfrey, putting his arm round Ibby’s shoulders. “We’ll make a magician of you yet – won’t we, Ibby?”
“You will not!” said Ibby’s mother. Uncle Godfrey laughed.
“What I’d like to know,” said Aunt Carole, “is how you found the magic set in the first place.”
“That was Francis,” said Alex.
They told their parents everything then – about Francis shrinking himself, and Alex levitating out of the window, about Francis disappearing and Alex growing up. “This explains a lot!” said Aunt Carole. And Francis got overexcited and leaped around the room flourishing the wand and re-enacting everything.
“Put that thing down!” said Aunt Carole, laughing. “You’ll have someone’s eye out!”
So Francis threw the wand onto the couch and helped himself to a chocolate-covered wafer.
“But what I don’t understand,” said Ibby’s mother, accepting a cup of tea, “is why the trick didn’t work when we tried it.”
“Apparently,” said Aunt Carole, “we were holding the wand the wrong way round. The end with the short white tip is the end you hold.”
“But that’s ridiculous!” cried Ibby’s mother. “The long white end should be the handle.”
Francis shook his head. “That’s the end you tap things with.”
“Every time we did the trick,” explained Aunt Carole, “we must have been making ourselves reappear – not Godfrey.”
“No wonder it gave me a headache,” muttered Ibby’s mother.
Aunt Carole laughed. “Tea, Gerald?”
“Yes, please,” said Ibby’s father, and he took the cup and sat down on the couch. But as he sat down there was a sharp crack. It was the unmistakable sound of something snapping – something long and stick-like, and probably made of wood.
“What was that?” he said, jumping up again.
Everyone stopped talking and looked round. The wand was lying on the couch where Francis had thrown it – and it was shaped like an L. For a moment nobody moved. Then Francis gave a cry of anguish. He seized the wand and tried to straighten it – but it was no use. As soon as the wand was flourished – even gently – it collapsed and dangled from a splinter.
“I’m very sorry,” said Ibby’s father. “I didn’t see it there.”
“Never mind,” said Ibby’s mother. “It’s probably just as well.”
Francis’s chin began to tremble. He drew a deep, unsteady breath, and began sobbing quietly.
“Oh, dear,” said Ibby’s father. “Perhaps it can be fixed.”
Uncle Godfrey looked doubtful, but Ibby’s father took Francis into the kitchen and they tried to mend the wand with electrical tape. It wasn’t any use. Everyone knew that it would never work again. And without the wand the magic set was worthless. They had already lost the Disappearing Coin and the hand mirror, and none of the other tricks would work without the wand.
“Never mind,” said Uncle Godfrey. “We can still do card tricks.”
But card tricks weren’t much consolation.
“Have another biscuit,” said Aunt Carole. But Francis didn’t want one. He
went and sat at the end of the couch, nursing the broken wand and snuffling miserably. Alex sat down opposite, staring gloomily into his orange juice.
Ibby hated seeing her cousins like this – it wasn’t like them at all. And despite the trouble it had given them, she couldn’t help feeling disappointed that the wand had broken. Amazing Miniaturization would have been perfect for making dolls’ house furniture. Just think of it – proper chests of drawers with tiny handles and all the things inside much tinier than you could ever buy them in a shop.
Over a second cup of tea, it was decided that Ibby and her parents would stay with Aunt Carole for a few days, and bring Uncle Godfrey up to date on all their news. So Aunt Carole took the empty cups back to the kitchen, and Ibby’s parents and Uncle Godfrey went outside to bring the cases in.
“Well,” said Alex, once they were alone. “That’s the end of that then.” He picked up the magic set. “I suppose we’d better put it back.”
But Francis didn’t want to let go of the wand.
“Come on, Francis,” said Ibby gently. “It’s broken. It doesn’t work any more.”
Francis sniffed and wiped his nose with his sleeve, then reluctantly he put the wand back in the plastic tray. It was a tight fit now, with the electrical tape around its middle.
“And the hat,” said Alex.
Ibby had forgotten that she was still wearing the hat and cloak. She removed the black top hat and flattened it. Then she took off the satin cloak and folded it carefully. Alex lifted out the plastic tray so that she could put them underneath – and that was when they saw the piece of paper lying in the bottom of the box. It was strange they hadn’t noticed it before.
“What’s that?” said Ibby. She picked it up and turned it over. It was one of those glossy advertising flyers, the sort that slide out from between the pages of magazines, inviting you to subscribe for a year. As she read it, a smile spread slowly across her face.
“What does it say?” asked Francis.
Ibby showed them.
Magic for the More Advanced it said across the top, and there was a picture of a wizard with a long white beard and a pointy black hat with silver stars. He was flourishing a wand with glitter spilling from the end. Underneath was printed the following . . .
Amaze your friends and charm your girlfriend with Magic for the More Advanced!
This set contains all the equipment you need to perform seven incredible magic tricks, including the world-renowned Indian Rope Trick and the ever popular Magic Carpet. Only £29.99, incl. p&p.
And that was all, except for a mailing address, and (in very small print) the words:
“CAUTION: SOME EXPERINCE NECESSARY.”
ALSO BY HEATHER DYER
THE FISH IN ROOM 11
Toby lives a lonely life at the seaside hotel where he was abandoned as a baby – until he finds a pale, thin girl lying on the beach at the water’s edge, with a long green tail swaying gently in the shallows.
Eliza Flot is a stranded mermaid and she needs Toby’s help. He takes to her like a fish to water, and when he meets her noisy parents he practically becomes part of the family.
But Toby’s new friendship arouses suspicion back at the hotel. Toby and the Flots must come up with a plan to rescue each other!
Funny, tender and exciting . . .
THE TIMES
Paperback, ISBN 978-1-911490-40-1, £5.99 • ebook, ISBN 978-1-911490-45-6, £5.99
ALSO BY HEATHER DYER
THE GIRL WITH THE BROKEN WING
The twins are in bed when it happens: they hear a clattering on the roof tiles, then a tapping at the window. It’s a girl with a broken wing – and she’s come to stay.
Where has she come from? And more importantly, what does she want? The twins have no idea. Perhaps she’s their guardian angel . . . but would an angel snore and have filthy feet?
An exceptional debut.
THE TIMES
Paperback, ISBN 978-1-911490-24-1, £5.99 • ebook, ISBN 978-1-911490-25-8, £5.99
Text © Heather Dyer 2007
Illustrations © Peter Bailey 2007
First published in Great Britain in 2007
This electronic edition published in 2018
Chicken House
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United Kingdom
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Heather Dyer has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher.
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Produced in the UK by CPI Group (UK) Ltd, Croydon CR0 4YY
Cover design by Helen Crawford-White
Cover illustration by Melissa Castrillòn
Interior illustrations by Peter Bailey
Designed and typeset by Ian Butterworth
Printed and bound in Great Britain by CPI Group (UK) Ltd, Croydon CR0 4YY
The paper used in this Chicken House book is made from wood grown in sustainable forests.
British Library Cataloguing in Publication data available.
PB ISBN 978-1-911490-71-5
eISBN 978-1-911490-72-2
