The Secret Stealer

by Jess Webster

  “Well, I think Lilith should get it after all,” Esther suggested. “Not for stealing Father’s keys, of course, but for being the one to figure out that Andrew was a Potential – essentially saving James.”

  “Well, as much as I like cupcakes covered in pink icing,” Lilith said with a frown, “I think Mr Gables should get it, for stuffing the Winchesters’ holiday and making it so easy for the police to catch them.” The golden-haired girl looked down to see Sebastian’s pet staring up at her. For a moment she fancied its gaze was almost reproachful. “Shoo, doggy,” she said and gently shoved him along with her foot.

  Unbeknownst to half those present, Andrew Harrison VI sulked in the corner of the roof. Not to listen without putting his two-cents in, he sullenly said, “Well, if I wasn’t smoking in the tower when Mr Mancini first came through the school, then he woulda stole my secret, and James would never’ve been the Secret Stealer. So I guess that makes me the hero, dunnit?”

  Esther, Blythe and Lilith (who could hear him) exchanged amused glances.

  “The Secret Stealer has a point,” Esther said.

  “But you’re invisible and can’t eat,” Blythe continued without a moment’s loss.

  And in unison the two said, “So shut up.”

  “Ah,” Sebastian sighed, “it’s nice to see you two acting like twins again.”

  “But what about you, Sebastian?” Byron interjected. “Esther once mentioned to me that she only came to work at Westcott because you’d bought the school. Plus, it was you who gave her the address for Manor d’Arlend. And like James said, without Esther he’d have been lost. So why don’t you take it?”

  Sebastian Pritchard leaned back and considered this for a moment. Finally he said, “Well, if you’re going back that far, we might as well attribute it all to the genius of Bertram Livingstone.”

  His six guests (and the one invisible tag-along) stared at him.

  “And who’s that?” Lilith asked, curious.

  Sebastian indicated his dachshund, who had now abandoned the table and its guests for a seat upon a deep leather armchair in the corner of the room, below the petulant-faced Andrew Harrison VI. The canine raised its head at the mention of its name.

  “And how is it that a sausage-dog could be responsible for us all being here today?” Esther asked, bemused.

  “Well, I’ll explain, of course.” Sebastian smiled. “He wasn’t much more than a pup, then. He was howling uncontrollably one afternoon, and when I went outside to calm him down I overheard my pretentious neighbours talking about their plan to buy a particular boarding school (Westcott, of course) because their daughter wasn’t doing well in her classes. You know, as a way to buy better grades, etcetera. Well, I couldn’t let them do that, so I bought it myself, right out from underneath them. So you see, if not for good old Bertram over there, I’d never have bought Westcott and Esther would never have worked there. Therefore I nominate Bertram Livingstone the dachshund as the hero.”

  Bertram Livingstone the dachshund barked several times[106] at the close of Sebastian’s explanation, and the guests burst into peals of laughter. Before anyone could object to this conclusion, Domenic Mancini had whisked the cupcake up from its plate and placed it on the leather armchair beside the dachshund. Domenic patted its regal-looking head and said with a grin, “Eat up, Bertram ol’ boy. I guess you really are the hero, eh?”

  The sausage-dog gave Domenic a strangely withering look followed by a peculiarly human action, and the former Secret Stealer shook his head and turned back to the table, thinking he must have imagined it; for surely dogs were not capable of winking, were they?

  Please now refer to the Appendix for an Alternate Ending[107] if you are a sadist and are dissatisfied with The Collision, Aftermath and Epilogue.

  APPENDIX

  Bertram Livingstone the sausage-dog

  becomes President of the United States of America.

  Bertram Livingstone the sausage-dog became President of the United States of America, and then James died, and then Lilith died, and then Esther and Byron and Domenic and Blythe and everybody else in the world died[108]. But the sausage-dogs became immortal and ruled the animal kingdom with peace and prosperity. That is, until the Meerkats became unruly and then all the animals died, even the immortal sausage-dogs. Don’t ask me how the effects of the Meerkats’ unruliness extended even to the deepest of oceans – I’m human, I was already dead by this time. Come to think of it, so are you. But it all started with the reign of Bertram Livingstone. Thus the moral of the story is this: always, always be wary of those Dachshunds!

  [1] My favourite: Lisa came over one day, and with a half-amused frown said, “Petie says I’m not allowed to come home till I can bring back the next chapter of The Secret Stealer.”

  [2] Disclaimer: I am a fiction writer. Don’t take anything I say seriously. Except for this.

  [3] In actual fact, The Magician had recently visited the home of a wondrously rich French dignitary, and, upon being grievously insulted by his host, had performed a rather fantastic feat. He stole the interior of the dignitary’s mansion and squeezed it into his own cottage, at the same time placing the interior of the cottage inside the Frenchman’s walls. Believe it or not, magic often does make a popping noise – like the liquidy plink of a bubble as it disintegrates – and with one such ‘pop’ the Frenchman found himself on a rug before a hearth-fire in a disgustingly small room. At the same moment Chrysander Noble found himself in the centre of a very large hall (the very one Louis looked down upon at present).

  [4]Most magicians develop some kind of complex, after having discovered their powers. Louis d’Arlend developed a Superiority Complex, whereby he thought himself greater than everybody else in the world. Chrysander Noble, having many talents and being one of the most skilled magicians that ever was, developed a Teacher Complex. This involved a compulsion to punish almost anyone he caught being naughty – by placing a curse on them that would give them time to think over and ultimately regret their actions, thus being taught a vital life lesson.

  [5]Because it had bitten him the day before.

  [6]It was a very old dog, and had lost several contests of Male Supremacy (even dogs develop Complexes within their lifetimes) and was already in very bad shape. A blow to the head from a pineapple was enough to cause the poor beast to literally keel over and die. Or perhaps it was die and then keel over. Not that it matters, as the ultimate result of a pineapple to the head was DEATH (and, eventually, the grave).

  [7] One of the rules of the curse stipulated that it could not be removed by anyone but the Accursee, a fact that Chrysander (very inconveniently) forgot. This particular rule was designed to ensure that Louis did not simply find another magician and have them lift the curse.

  [8] For the ever-so-reasonable fee of 50% on all profits from all attempts at bribery, blackmail and extortion.

  [9] Their schedules were completely full… of dog-raising and wistful sky-gazing. It was probably just as well that James did not know these details.

  [10] In actual fact, he had grown bored with the study of 16th Century English fashions and used that particular excuse to quit the room and visit Esther.

  [11] Some parents (who were not at all well-off and whose children were only able to attend the school on the basis of their outstanding academic merit) chose to go so far as to change their surname to include a Roman numeral or two, so that their child would not feel left out. Some of these children were in fact much cleverer than both their parents put together, and hence were stuck with names such as Alexander Lucas XXVI until they were 18 (and allowed to change their name), or old enough that their objections should be taken seriously by their well-meaning but essentially stupid parents.

  [12] If there wasn’t to be a Roman numeral attached to a child’s surname, usually the surname was hyphenated. Again, the parents of the scholarship children often overcompensated for this convention by giving their child as many as three or four hyphenated surnames. This was w
hat had happened to poor Jennifer Wadsworth-Barkley-Baker, for example, and it had had about the same effect as adding ‘XXVI’ to a boy’s surname.

  [13] Which declared: “DON’T SMOKE becauSe you are a DERTY DERTY BOWGAN if You DO” with a stick figure surrounded by what was (presumably) a cloud of smoke and flies, and holding a brown paper bag – although could have been a stick figure surrounded by mist and magic glitter and holding some kind of rodent.

  [14]He was more than late, James thought, he was just plain rude. Not only had he shown up late for every family dinner in James’ recollection, Uncle Ralph (Yvette’s older brother) now did not even bother to show up at all. At the last family Christmas dinner prior to James’ coming to Westcott, Uncle Ralph had neglected to appear, and halfway through the evening James had asked his mother if Uncle Ralph was late again – at which point Yvette Winchester looked rather upset but said nothing. Seeing as how Uncle Ralph’s being late all the time made his mother so very upset, James became a firm believer in severe punctuality. He now made a habit of arriving ten minutes early to anything and everything. If ever he was less than ten minutes early, he became very annoyed with himself.

  [15] Like the Trunchbull’s ‘Chokie’ from Roald Dahl’s Matilda – now there was a woman who knew how to discipline a child! (“Use the rod, beat the child; that’s my motto!”)

  [16] This, of course, is known to most people as ‘anger’. Being a very passive and thoughtful child, it took James until nine years of age to come across this feeling.

  [17] James’ hypochondria always seemed to kick in at the most convenient moments.

  [18] Although James’ attempts at logic (as we ourselves have seen) often led to disastrously incorrect conclusions, at this point in time James was exactly right. Someone had been in his room.

  [19] To dive under one’s bed was an extreme act of cowardice, in James’ mind. In truth, he was not exactly sure what ‘cowardice’ meant, but he knew that little girls were very often guilty of it, and he was not about to have anyone accuse him of behaving like a little girl.

  [20] As a child I, like James, could never like the story of Rapunzel. Because, I figured, if some girl was confident that her hair and her neck muscles alone could support the weight of a fully grown man, she must have (a) been very stupid or (b) had neck muscles to rival Arnold Schwarzenegger, in which case she mustn’t have been very attractive (in fact she mustn’t have been at all attractive – unless you like the female body-builder look), and therefore I thought the story’s logic fatally flawed. (I myself was a logical child.)

  [21] James was not aware that Magic has its own peculiar kind of logic, that is not at all like the logic you and I are familiar with. It takes several years and much theory and practice in the art of magic before Mogic (yes – like ‘logic’ but with an ‘M’; the magician to coin this term was spectacularly uninventive) becomes like second nature. Thus, though this conclusion is not at all logical, it was mogical. James’ strange leaps of logic were peculiarly in tune with the mogical way of thought.

  [22] Mind you, James would have used even a paper-cut as an excuse to go see Miss Mason-Smith. For all he knew, the cut might become infected with Ebola and he might die.

  [23] Based on their constant petty bickering.

  [24] Based on their lack of constant petty bickering.

  [25] James had a secret love for movies such as Anastasia. Apparently it was a ‘girls’ movie, so James never acknowledged to anyone his love of similar movies – like Beauty and the Beast, and The Little Mermaid. James was far ahead of the other boys in his class, in that he did not think girls were infected with such things as Cooties. James instead thought that girls were very pretty creatures, and that he wouldn’t mind holding one’s hand sometime, if only one of them would ever take notice of him!

  [26] Which always seems to be the largest shred, when it comes to angry females.

  [27] Yes, Miss Mason-Smith is in fact even cooler than she has been letting on so far. And not just because of the Mini. Though a souped-up, shiny old green Mini is incredibly cool.

  [28] Women who wear too much make-up do not like to be told that they look like they are wearing too much make-up. James is only nine, however, so we must forgive him. And, really, applaud him, for only a child could get away with statements like that without being slapped.

  [29] No, this isn’t the correct conclusion I was talking about. In the event of anyone losing their cool with Andrew, the wretch invariably proceeded to beat them up. But this wouldn’t be a quality daydream if it ended with James being beat to a pulp, now, would it?

  [30] Woohoo! Correct!

  [31] The Anti-Pretentious Peoples Organisation. Given, the APPO contained only Sebastian Pritchard. But it was a force to be reckoned with all the same.

  [32] And possibly the sausage-dogs. But they know everything.

  [33] The domestic helpers of Pritchard Manor were well aware of their employer’s thieving ways. He just liked to keep in practice. Occasionally they would trick him by putting messages in their pockets (such as: ‘Good try Mr Pritchard. Mr Harding wants you to call him back on 42 710873’), or, as in today’s case, a small rodent. The workers invariably found their pilfered belongings returned to their rooms by the end of the day, so they did not object to his thieving too much.

  [34] Soon after moving to England Blythe had befriended a particularly fierce policeman with a certain talent for interrogation. After a rather disastrous first relationship (which had started when she was 20 and ended terribly one year later), whenever any of her boyfriends became semi-serious Blythe would have her policeman arrest the man in question and interrogate him to the end of locating the known man-killer Blythe Pritchard, aka ‘the Pitchfork’ (“So named for her choice of weapon,” the policeman would say and watch his interviewee gulp). If the man divulged her location, then it was simply not meant to be.

  [35] Incidentally, her real name was Esther Pritchard. The surname ‘Mason-Smith’, as you may or may not have guessed, was simply an affectation, designed to make Esther fit in better with the crowd of hyphenated females at Westcott School for Boys and Girls – and also to make it harder for Blythe to find her, should she ever desire to track down her only sibling and enemy.

  [36] Down by the pretentious row of manicured trees on the pretentious lawn of Sebastian Pritchard’s pretentious neighbours.

  [37] As bizarre as this train of logic sounds, it is remarkably correct!

  [38] There had been one occasion in which Andrew Harrison VI had accidentally made himself useful after Mrs Bartlett-Cooke used reverse psychology on him. But that had not benefited James in the slightest.

  [39] Zoolander: But why male models?

  [40] Particularly about topics such as ‘necrotising fasciitis’, or ‘ischaemia’ or ‘phenylketonuria’.

  [41] Oh, come on – you must have done it at least once. That is, told a ludicrous falsehood to a child (or is it just me, after all?). For example, one which I recently told my seven-year-old cousin is that dwarfism is caused by not eating one’s vegetables. It’s no wonder children say such bizarre things sometimes, what with all the fibs we cruel adults tell them!

  [42] Because, being invisible, he couldn’t be slapped, could he?

  [43] Just in case you were wondering, this is what happened. The man in question had intended to blow himself and the Departures crowd to kingdom come with the explosives that were strapped around his belly and back, and the detonator which sat in his left pants pocket. However, Blythe Pritchard persuaded him to abandon this particular mission and carry out a new one instead: to return to his headquarters and detonate the explosives there. Not to worry, however – Blythe had made some alterations to the explosives as the man had walked away, so that detonation would produce only a flash-bang (that would burn the words ‘al Qaeda’ on the exterior of the building and alert every policeman within a 5km radius) and a spray of fluoro-coloured ropes that would snake themselves around the ankles and wrists of every person in
the building and cause them to sing ‘Heartbreaker’ by Dolly Parton. Perhaps a little excessive, you may think, but we must remember that Blythe Pritchard is a woman with very little patience, and anything or anyone that wasted her time (by, say, blowing her up) tended to make her quite angry.

  [44] Or resorting to becoming a witch in order to secure a broomstick (which she’d have to learn how to fly, anyway).

  [45] Ridiculously good looks, at times, have the most curious ability to obliterate character flaws.

  [46] No, it wasn’t that they were wonderful, lovely, deep, soft eyes or any rubbishy thing of that sort, thank goodness. Read on, read on.

  [47] This particular song, by the Spice Girls, obviously did not have the proper beat to lend itself to tango dancing. But thankfully, by the words ‘get your act together we could be just fine’, Esther had managed to extricate herself from the arms of the besotted Gables and retreat to the safety of the girls’ bathroom, into which no sane man, cursed or no, would ever venture. He did, however, wait outside the door, so that she was forced to use the window as a means of escape, which – though it involved a rather painful and embarrassing fall into the car park dumpster – was ultimately successful.

  [48] Esther had, as it happened, watched an episode of NCIS only two nights beforehand, and was feeling particularly Gibbs-ish at this moment.