by Heather Dyer
Contents
Chapter 1. Magic For Beginners
Chapter 2. The Boy In The Biscuit Tin
Chapter 3. The Magic For Beginners Helpline
Chapter 4. The Levitation Trick
Chapter 5. Alex Goes Out Of The Window
Chapter 6. Alex Goes To Church
Chapter 7. What Goes Up Must Come Down
Chapter 8. The Disappearing Coin
Chapter 9. Francis Disappears
Chapter 10. The Ferris Wheel Ghost
Chapter 11. The Life Cycle
Chapter 12. The Intruder
Chapter 13. The Baby On The Back Seat
Chapter 14. Uncle Godfrey
Chapter 15. The Vanishing Act
Chapter 16. The Magic Circle
Chapter 17. Advanced Magic
Copyright
The author would like to express her gratitude to Hawthornden Castle for the fellowship she was awarded there in 2004.
CHAPTER 1
Magic For Beginners
“ASTONISH YOUR FRIENDS AND CHARM YOUR GIRLFRIEND WITH THESE INCREDIBLE MAGIC TRICKS!”
“Francis?” said Ibby. “Can I come in?”
There was no reply, so Ibby knocked twice and opened the door. But to her surprise the room was empty. There was only a black top hat rolling gently on the carpet as though its owner had departed in a hurry.
Ibby checked in the wardrobe and under the bed, then she went to the window and looked out. But there was nobody there. Francis appeared to have vanished.
Ibby went downstairs again and found Aunt Carole and her parents in the front room, having tea.
“Here she is!” said Aunt Carole, smiling. “Did you find Francis?”
“No,” said Ibby. “He’s disappeared.”
“He’s probably just hiding. Here – have a biscuit.”
“Thanks,” said Ibby, and she took a chocolate-covered wafer and a glass of orange juice, and went and sat beside her mother on the couch.
“You’re quite a young lady now, aren’t you?” remarked Aunt Carole. “Your hair’s getting ever so long.”
“Too long,” said Ibby’s mother, tucking Ibby’s hair behind her ear. Ibby had a pale, rather serious face and long fair hair, which she liked to wear loose like her friend Shareen. (Her mother made her wear it back for school. She said it looked untidy otherwise.)
“Are you still a big reader?” asked Aunt Carole.
“Oh, yes,” said Ibby’s father. “Ibby always has a book on the go, don’t you, Ibby?”
“I wish the boys liked reading,” said Aunt Carole. And then the conversation moved on to Alex and his website, and then to Francis and his karate classes.
Meanwhile, Ibby nibbled her chocolate-covered wafer and looked around. Aunt Carole’s shelves were full of tatty books, and there was a vase of peacock feathers, a sheep’s skull, and other things that Aunt Carole and the boys had collected on their walks.
Normally, Ibby liked staying at her aunt’s house. But this time it was different. This time she was staying on her own.
“You won’t be on your own,” her father had told her. “Alex and Francis will be there too.”
But Ibby didn’t find this very reassuring. The last time she had seen her cousins was when they had all gone to stay at a bed and breakfast in the Lake District. Alex hadn’t wanted to come on holiday at all, and had traipsed after them everywhere with his head down, playing an electronic game that beeped every time he scored a point. Francis, on the other hand, had barely been able to contain his excitement and had kept them all awake at night by slamming doors and running up and down the stairs. On the second night he had got his finger stuck in the shower drain, and everyone had come out onto the landing in their dressing gowns to watch while the ambulance men carried him off with the shower tray still attached to the end of his finger.
Ibby’s mother said Aunt Carole let the boys get away with murder, but Ibby’s father thought Aunt Carole did her best. After all, he said, it couldn’t be easy bringing up two boys alone.
Especially boys like Alex and Francis, Ibby thought. But she’d said nothing.
Just then, Ibby’s thoughts were interrupted by a crash directly overhead, and the sound of furniture being dragged across the floor.
“Goodness!” said Ibby’s mother. “What’s going on up there?”
But before Aunt Carole could answer, someone yelled “MUM?” and feet came pounding down the stairs. A moment later Alex appeared in the doorway. “Have we got any tins?” he said.
Alex must be practically a teenager now, thought Ibby. Unlike Francis (who was one of those people who can’t help looking untidy) Alex was one of those people who can’t seem to help looking smart. His dark hair was longer on top and parted in the middle, and when he ran his hand through it, it always fell neatly back in place. (Francis had dark hair too, but his always stuck straight up in front as though a cow had licked it off his forehead with a big wet tongue.)
“What sort of tin do you want?” asked Aunt Carole.
“Something with a lid.”
“Will a biscuit tin do? There’s one in the pantry on the top shelf. But put it back when …”
But Alex had already gone.
“Well,” said Ibby’s mother, getting up. “I suppose we’d better be off. We’ve got to register by four o’clock.”
Ibby’s heart sank. So this was it. Her parents were leaving her here for four whole days while they attended a technical writing conference in Cardiff.
“Be good,” said Ibby’s mother.
Ibby said nothing. She was always good.
“We’ll be back before you know it!” said her father. Then they went outside and got into their car, and Ibby’s father started up the engine and her mother wound the window down and blew a kiss.
Ibby and Aunt Carole waved from the front step as the car went down the drive. Then it turned the corner and was gone.
CHAPTER 2
The Boy In The Biscuit Tin
“THE STEP-BY-STEP INSTRUCTIONS ARE TO FOLLOW.”
Ibby went back upstairs. Francis’s bedroom door was firmly closed and there was a lot of banging and crashing coming from within. “Francis?” said Ibby. She knocked twice and went in.
“Shut the door!” barked Alex. “Don’t let it get away!”
“Let what get away?” said Ibby, startled.
“I don’t know.” Alex was on his knees, peering under the bed. “Some sort of mouse, I think. With stripes.”
“Stripes?”
Then out from under the bed darted a small figure – no larger than one of the people from Ibby’s dolls’ house. It ran across the carpet directly in front of Ibby’s feet, and disappeared under the armchair – but not before Ibby had recognized Francis’s scruffy brown head and stripy sweater. She stepped backwards with a cry of astonishment. Francis?
“Push!” yelled Alex, throwing his weight against the chair.
“Don’t!” shrieked Ibby. “You’ll squash him!”
But to her relief, where the chair had stood there was only a dusty square of carpet on which lay a green plastic soldier and a broken pen.
“Where’d it go?” said Alex, looking round.
“There!” said Ibby, pointing – and before Francis could disappear under a landslide of board games and jigsaw boxes, she pounced. When she stood up she was trembling, with her hands cupped close to her chest.
“Let’s see!” said Alex.
Slowly, Ibby opened her hands – and there was Francis, curled up in a ball.
There was a shocked pause. Then Alex said, “What is it?”
“It’s Francis,” said Ibby.
“Francis? What’s happened to him?”
“He’s shrunk
.”
“I can see that. But how?”
At the sound of their voices, Francis uncurled and started trying to scramble out of Ibby’s hands. “Pass the tin!” said Ibby. “Quick!” So Alex brought the biscuit tin and, carefully, Ibby released Francis into it. Immediately he went rushing round and round inside the tin, trying to scramble up the reflective silver walls in a hopeless sort of way.
“What’s he doing?” said Ibby anxiously. “Why’s he running round and round like that?”
“Small animals do everything quickly,” said Alex. “They’ve got a higher metabolic rate. That’s why they’re always hungry. If shrews don’t eat their own weight in worms every hour they can starve to death.”
“They starve to death in an hour?” said Ibby, shocked.
“Or quicker, even.”
“Let’s put the lid on. Perhaps he’ll go to sleep.”
“We can’t do that! He’ll suffocate!”
Alex ran downstairs and came back with a chocolate biscuit, a saucer of water, and a few lengths of toilet paper. He arranged everything in the tin, whereupon Francis promptly knocked over the water, ignored the biscuit, and began bundling up lengths of paper.
“He’s making a nest,” said Ibby. “Look!”
But Alex was looking at something else.
His gaze had fallen on a long black box, lying on the floor. On the front of the box it said:
Magic for Beginners, and there was a picture of a white rabbit jumping out of a black top hat.
Beneath the picture it said:
ASTONISH YOUR FRIENDS AND CHARM YOUR GIRLFRIEND WITH THESE INCREDIBLE MAGIC TRICKS! THIS BEAUTIFULLY PRESENTED SET INCLUDES A TOP HAT, CLOAK AND ALL THE PROPS YOU NEED TO PERFORM YOUR VERY OWN MAGIC SHOW.
“I knew it,” said Alex.
“Knew what?”
“He’s been doing magic!”
“Magic sets don’t do real magic,” objected Ibby. “They’re all about sleight of hand and false bottoms, and things …” She trailed off uncertainly. She had just remembered the black top hat rolling gently on Francis’s bedroom carpet.
“It’s the only explanation,” said Alex. He broke off a tiny piece of biscuit and held it over the tin, making kissing noises. Presently the mound of paper trembled, and a hand appeared. It took the biscuit and withdrew.
“Right,” said Ibby suddenly. “I’m going to tell Aunt Carole.”
“No! We can’t do that!”
“Why not?” said Ibby, hesitating.
“Well – think of the shock it would give her! And she won’t be able to do anything, will she?”
“She might,” said Ibby, but she looked unsure.
“She won’t,” said Alex firmly. “She’ll rush him straight to hospital. They’ll do all sorts of tests on him and then when nothing works they’ll take him to a laboratory and put him in a cage with lots of white rats.”
“They wouldn’t!”
“Yes, they would. That’s what always happens in cases like this. It’ll be on the news and in all the papers and he’ll be known for ever afterwards as ‘The Boy in the Biscuit Tin’.” Alex put his arm round Ibby’s shoulders and led her back to the bed, where she sat down reluctantly.
“So what do you think we should do?” she asked.
“Make him big again, of course.”
“How?”
“With the magic set.”
“Oh! Do you think we can?”
“Of course we can,” said Alex reassuringly. “Where are the instructions?”
CHAPTER 3
The Magic For Beginners Helpline
“CALLS CHARGED AT PREMIUM RATE.”
Ibby found the Magic for Beginners instruction booklet and turned to the table of contents. There were seven tricks listed:
1. Amazing Miniaturization
2. Levitation
3. The Multicoloured Handkerchief
4. The Disappearing Coin
5. Cards
6. The Life Cycle
7. The Vanishing Act
“Amazing Miniaturization!” cried Ibby, and she flipped to page three and found six numbered steps, each accompanied by a tiny illustration of a magician “tipping his hat” or “taking a bow” or waving his wand in a certain way. But the final step said simply: Tap object with wand three times and hey presto! The object has been miniaturized. That was all. It didn’t say whether the effects of the trick were permanent or not – nor how to reverse it.
“It doesn’t tell you anything,” said Ibby.
Alex didn’t answer. He was examining the black top hat. It was clever the way it collapsed into a disc, then popped up again when you gave it a twist.
Ibby frowned and turned to the back of the booklet instead. In small print on the very last page there was a disclaimer. Here is what it said: All magic tricks are undertaken at the magician’s own risk. Please call the Magic for Beginners Helpline for further information.
“There’s a number to call,” said Ibby. “Quick! Alex, get your phone.”
“It’s only for emergencies,” said Alex. He was trying on the top hat in front of the mirror. It looked best, he decided, worn slightly forwards, at an angle.
“This is an emergency!”
Alex sighed, but he strode out of the room and reappeared a moment later with his phone. “Don’t use all the credit,” he said.
Ibby dialled the number. After several rings, there was a click, and a woman’s voice said: “Welcome to Magic for Beginners. Please choose one of the following options: To purchase Magic for Beginners, press one. For careers with Magic for Beginners, press two …” The recorded message continued, until eventually the voice concluded by saying: “… and for assistance, please hold.”
Ibby waited. Some xylophone music came on. Every now and again the woman’s voice returned, saying: “Please hold, and your call will be answered as soon as possible.”
“A lot of people must need help,” said Ibby gloomily.
Alex glanced at his watch. At last the voice returned. “Hello!” it said. “Welcome to Magic for—” Then the line went dead.
“I got cut off!”
Alex snatched his phone and peered at the display. “You’ve used up all my credit!”
“Never mind your credit!” cried Ibby. “What about Francis? You don’t care about him at all, do you?”
“Yes, I do!”
“No, you don’t!”
“Don’t be silly,” said Alex. “Of course I care. All I’m saying is – hey! Wait!”
But Ibby had already snatched up the biscuit tin and gone running downstairs, shouting, “Aunt Carole! Aunt Carole!”
Before she got halfway down the stairs, however, Ibby lost her footing. The tin flew out of her hands, and the next thing Ibby knew she was falling head first down the stairs.
The first thing she saw when she got to her feet was Francis. He was sitting large as life on the fourth stair, brushing bits of tissue paper out of his hair.
“Francis!” she cried. “Are you all right?”
“I think so,” said Francis, rubbing his head.
“See?” said Alex, from the top of the stairs. “I knew he’d be OK.”
But just then Aunt Carole rushed out of the kitchen. “What happened?” she cried. “What was that big crash?” She looked at Francis, who had a long red welt on his forehead where the edge of the biscuit tin had caught him – then at Alex, who looked suspiciously like a person who had just pushed someone down the stairs.
“Well?” she said. “Would someone like to tell me what’s going on?”
For a moment, nobody spoke. And then (as often happens when the real crisis has passed) Ibby burst into tears and told Aunt Carole everything – but her explanation was so punctuated with sobs and gasps that Aunt Carole only caught the words “biscuit tin” and “trick”.
“Trick? What sort of trick?”
“She means a joke,” said Alex. “Don’t you, Ibby?”
Ibby hesitated. She looked at Alex and th
en, under his stern gaze, she glanced away again, and nodded meekly.
“I see,” said Aunt Carole. She helped Francis to his feet, then picked up the biscuit tin. “Come and have some dinner,” she said. “I think we’ve all had enough tricks for one day. Don’t you?”
CHAPTER 4
The Levitation Trick
“WITHOUT THREADS, WIRES OR MAGNETS...!”
Fortunately, Francis seemed none the worse for his ordeal. A little hungrier, perhaps, but that was all. Alex and Ibby observed him closely during dinner, but it wasn’t until they were back upstairs again that they were able to question him properly.
“How did you do it?” asked Alex.
“I didn’t mean to,” said Francis. “I was trying to shrink my inflatable crocodile.” He said he’d tapped it three times with the wand, then felt a strange sinking sensation. That was the last thing he remembered before waking up to find himself falling down the stairs.
“So what went wrong?” said Alex.
“I don’t know,” said Francis. “I did what it said in the book.” The only thing he could think of was that perhaps he had been holding the wand the wrong way round – therefore pointing the trick at himself instead of the crocodile. Since the two ends of the wand were so similar (one of the white tips was slightly longer than the other) it was easily done.
“Well, you’re lucky we didn’t step on you,” said Ibby. “Isn’t he, Alex?”
But Alex was more interested in the magic set. “Where did you find it?” he asked.
“In the attic,” said Francis.
“The attic?” said Alex, surprised. The attic was out of bounds. Aunt Carole said that this was because there wasn’t a proper floor – just foam chips between the joists – and that if you stepped in the wrong place your foot could go through the ceiling.
“Does Mum know?”
Francis shook his head. He told them how Aunt Carole had gone up there that morning to get the slide projector for Ibby’s mother, and had left the ladder down. He had climbed up afterwards and found the magic set at the back of the attic, in a cardboard box marked “GODFREY”.