I did see Trixie and Beatrix again, too. I was at home alone when I heard the familiar squeal of the time machine arriving outside. I rushed into the garden to find both Beatrixes standing on Dad’s precious flowerbed.
‘Oops, sorry,’ Beatrix said, crouching down to try and save a slightly crumpled pansy. ‘It’s hard to aim this thing long distances without a landing pad.’
‘I never seem to have any trouble,’ said Trixie with a smile. Beatrix blushed a little but she smiled too.
I took them inside the house and I made Beatrix a cup of tea. I couldn’t wait to hear what had happened after the fete.
‘Where’s Crick?’ I asked. ‘Did they get him?’
‘The CPA found him in the sick bay, trying to put his butter warmer back together. If he’d spent more time inventing and less time stealing he might have managed to do it. He’s in custody, awaiting trial.’
I sighed with relief and slumped back on the couch.
‘I’m so sorry I put you in danger,’ Beatrix said. ‘I should have known it was a trap. I should have known that—’
‘It’s over, Beatrix,’ Trixie said. She turned to me. ‘Are you going to be okay?’
I nodded. I was looking forward to getting back to my normal life. Besides, I’d had two more calls from parents to see if I could perform at their kid’s party. Gary was handling the bookings and taking a twenty per cent cut which seemed fair.
‘What about you guys?’ I asked. ‘Those cops from the CPA said that you were in big trouble for building your own time machine. I thought you might have been arrested or something.’
Beatrix laughed. ‘They thought about charging me with “the possession and manufacture of a Class A temporal device” but that was never going to happen. Then they’d have to admit they ignored my warnings about Crick. Besides, once they saw how well made my time machine was they offered me a job on the spot.’
‘A job?’
‘Yep, you are looking at the newest agent of the Chronological Protection Agency.’
Beatrix slipped her hand into the pocket of her red coat and pulled out a familiar glowing green glass badge.
‘Of course,’ she continued, ‘at the moment they’ve got me in the workshop servicing all their time machines.’
Trixie looked at her watch. ‘Speaking of time. Didn’t you tell them we’d only be a few minutes?’
Trixie and her older self stood up.
‘So you’re going home now?’ I asked. ‘Will I see you again?’
‘One day,’ Beatrix said. ‘But we have to go back to our times now. If we stay too long, it might cause a singularity.’
Beatrix reached into her pocket and handed me what looked like a round gold stone. It was light and smooth with a big, grey plastic button embedded in the middle.
‘Over the next few months you might notice some strange events. So if anything happens that you can’t explain, if you spot anything that just shouldn’t be, then push that button.’
I slipped the gold stone into my pocket as Beatrix pressed the switch on her time machine. The familiar holographic display popped up in front of her.
‘Can you at least tell me about my future?’ I asked. ‘All I know is that I’m going to become a magician. Do I get to do magic on television? What type of tricks do I do? Will I be rich?’
Trixie looked at Beatrix, who smiled.
‘Yes, you will become a professional magician,’ she said warmly. ‘You won’t be particularly rich or famous but you’ll be very happy doing it. But you know what is going to make you really happy?’
I shrugged.
‘Meeting your daughter for the first time.’
I opened my mouth to speak but before I could, Beatrix pushed the GO button. As she did, Trixie lifted up her hand and smiled.
‘Bye, Dad!’ they both said.
And they vanished into thin air.
THE END
Acknowledgements
Thank you to these magical people who made this book happen:
My agent Alex Adsett; Claire Craig and Brianne Collins from Pan Macmillan; illustrator Russell Jeffery from Emigraph; designers at Evi O. Studio; magicians Lawrence Leung, Dom Chambers, Tim Ellis, Vyom Sharma and Claire Yistelle; Lily Paterson, Jonah Pobjie, Ollie Hone, Ruby Messenger, Elsa Thomas, Eve and Harry Welford, Imogen and Angus Maidment-Ponton and the students of Preston South Primary School, for their inspiration; Mum and Dad; Sam Marzden and the Timey Wimey Committee for their excellent advice.
Finally, thank you to Bridget, Bea and Edie, you’re the best family a magician could ask for.
About Nicholas J. Johnson
Nicholas J. Johnson is a magician and author. He has spent the last thirty years lying his pants off. He lives in Melbourne with his family and his pet elephant, Morris.
First published 2020 in Pan by Pan Macmillan Australia Pty Ltd
1 Market Street, Sydney, New South Wales, Australia, 2000
Copyright © Nicholas Johnson 2020
The moral right of the author to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted.
All rights reserved. This publication (or any part of it) may not be reproduced or transmitted, copied, stored, distributed or otherwise made available by any person or entity (including Google, Amazon or similar organisations), in any form (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical) or by any means (photocopying, recording, scanning or otherwise) without prior written permission from the publisher.
Cataloguing-in-Publication entry is available
from the National Library of Australia
http://catalogue.nla.gov.au
EPUB format: 9781760981617
Internal text design by Evi-O.Studio
Magic trick illustrations and folio images by Russell Jeffery, Emigraph
This is a work of fiction. Characters, institutions and organisations mentioned in this novel are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously without any intent to describe actual conduct.
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