Marvo pulled a face. ‘What about somebody else?’ he asked, looking around the room.
Becky glared fiercely at the other children who were sitting wide-eyed on the floor in front of the magician. It had the desired effect. Nobody moved.
‘Very well,’ said Marvo to Becky, ‘but remember, Marvo only likes good little girls.’
‘Can I look at your wand?’ asked Becky, ignoring him and picking up the silver stick.
Marvo snatched it from her. ‘Put it down!’ he snapped.
‘Can you turn people into frogs?’ she asked.
‘Don’t be silly, of course not,’ he replied, looking hot and flustered.
‘Simon’s mum said that if I wasn’t very, very good you would turn me into a frog.’
‘I wish I could,’ murmured the magician.
‘It might be good fun being a frog,’ said Becky. ‘I bet a real magician could turn somebody into a frog.’
‘Now you have to be very quiet, little girl, otherwise you won’t be able to help me with my magic trick,’ said Marvo through gritted teeth.
‘What do I have to do?’ asked Becky. She was hoping that Marvo would do the trick where he put somebody in a box and cut them in half with a big silver saw.
‘I’ll tell you in a moment, if you’ll listen!’ Marvo took a small black box out of the large sack. ‘Now, children, I have here my magic box,’ he said.
Becky grabbed it from his hand, looked inside and tipped it up.
‘Put it down!’ ordered Marvo angrily.
‘I was seeing if it was empty,’ said Becky.
‘Well, wait until I tell you,’ said Marvo. ‘Now I want you to look in the box and make sure there is nothing inside.’ He placed it before Becky.
‘I’ve already looked,’ said Becky.
‘Well, look again,’ growled the magician. She lifted the lid and peered inside. ‘Is it empty?’ he asked.
‘Yes.’
‘Are you sure?’ asked Marvo.
‘Yes.’
‘Very sure?’
‘Yes,’ Becky said again, beginning to feel impatient with his silly questions.
‘Completely sure?’
‘How many more times do I have to tell you?’ said Becky. ‘There’s nothing in it!’
Marvo took a deep breath and let it out very loudly. He was trying to stay calm. ‘Everyone has to be very quiet now.’ He looked meaningfully at Becky. ‘I am going to close the lid of my magic box and say the magic words-Abracadabra! Abracadoo!, so listen and watch really carefully, children.’ Waving his silver stick over the box, Marvo chanted, ‘Abracadabra! Abracadoo! What’s in the box? I will show it to you. Here,’ he said to Becky, ‘hold my silver wand, little girl.’
‘You said it was called a stick,’ said Becky, who didn’t like being called ‘little girl’ one bit.
‘Well, it’s now a wand!’ he snapped. ‘Just hold it and be quiet.’ Marvo lifted the lid of the box and reached inside. ‘What have we here?’ He gasped dramatically as he produced a small furry white toy rabbit.
‘Where did you come from, little rabbit?’ asked Marvo, with an amazed expression on his face.
‘From up your sleeve,’ said Becky.
‘No, it didn’t,’ barked the magician.
‘I saw you take it out of your sleeve when you put your hands in the box,’ said Becky.
‘No, you did not,’ growled Marvo again.
‘Yes, I did,’ said Becky, placing her hands on her hips. ‘You’re a big fibber.’
‘Go and sit down,’ said Marvo angrily, ‘and behave yourself. Now I want someone else to help me with my next magic trick. Where is the birthday boy?’ Simon put up his hand. ‘Would you like to help me?’ Simon shook his head. He looked sheepishly at Becky. ‘Oh, come along,’ said Marvo.
‘I’ll help you,’ shouted Becky, who had taken up her position at the very front of the circle of children.
‘No, you won’t,’ said the magician quickly, before she could get to her feet. ‘I’ve had enough help from you.’
‘I’ll help you, Marvo,’ said Araminta sweetly, jumping up, brushing down her dress and shaking her perfect golden curls.
‘Come along then, little girl,’ said Marvo, cheering up. Araminta looked a well-behaved little girl, just the sort of child he liked.
Araminta stood next to the magician and smiled sweetly. ‘I like rabbits,’ she told Marvo. ‘They’re nice.’
‘Are you going to cut her in half?’ asked Becky.
‘No, I am not,’ replied Marvo. ‘Why don’t you go and sit at the back.’
‘I like it here,’ Becky said, shuffling forward.
‘Now, for my next trick, I have Marvo’s magic candles.’ He placed three large coloured candles on the table behind him. ‘I am going to ask this little girl to light them.’
‘Children shouldn’t play with matches,’ said Becky. ‘My dad says it’s very dangerous.’
‘I am watching her very carefully,’ said Marvo.
‘She might set fire to something.’
‘She won’t,’ said Marvo. He smiled at the rest of the children. ‘I am going to ask this little girl to light the candles and then, by magic, I am going to make them go out and then light themselves again.’
What a silly trick, thought Becky. Anybody could do that. On her birthday cake Mum had put these candles which relit themselves as if by magic. You could buy them from the shops.
‘I am now going to make the candles go out for the first time,’ continued Marvo in what Becky thought was a very childish voice.
‘You could just blow them out,’ said Becky, ‘it would be easier.’
‘When I wave my magic stick –’
‘Wand,’ corrected Becky.
‘Stick!’ said Marvo, glowering at her. ‘When I wave my magic stick and say the magic words – and what are the magic words, children?’
‘May I go to the toilet?’ asked Becky.
‘Don’t interrupt!’ exclaimed Marvo. ‘When I say the magic words Abracadabra! Abracadoo –’
‘I really would like to go to the loo,’ said Becky.
‘Off you go then,’ said Marvo, quite relieved that the troublesome child would be out of his way.
Becky scurried off. She didn’t really want to go to the toilet but was bored by Marvo and his silly tricks.
First she looked through Simon’s presents. Nothing very interesting there, she thought. Lots of books and pens and socks and jumpers. Then she wandered into the kitchen and helped herself to a couple of sausage rolls, a sandwich, two buns and another slice of birthday cake.
When she returned a few minutes later the three coloured candles were burning brightly in front of the children.
‘Thank you, little girl,’ the magician was saying to Araminta. ‘You can sit down again now.’
Becky watched as Marvo, waving his magic stick above his head, chanted the magic words, ‘Abracadabra! Abracadoo –’
She watched as Araminta skipped back to her place on the carpet, catching one of the candles with her elbow. The candle wobbled and then fell on to the other two candles with a clunk, knocking them to the floor.
This is more like it, thought Becky, as the candles instantly set light to some wrapping paper that had been left there.
Soon, red and yellow tongues of flame were licking up the tablecloth and causing it to flare and crackle as it burned.
‘Aaaaaaahhh!’ everyone screamed, jumping up and running as far away as possible. Simon’s mother rushed into the room and immediately began screaming too.
But Becky didn’t move. She was rooted to the spot, watching the chaos and panic around her in fascination. She didn’t feel frightened at all. Dad had always said that in an emergency you should stay calm and decide on a clear plan of action. Marvo, she could see, was far from calm and clearly didn’t know what to do. He jumped up and down frantically.
‘Oh dear!’ he panted, trying to beat out the flames with his large sack. ‘Fire! Fire! He
lp! Help!’
This calls for action, thought Becky. She pulled the big green intergalactic, space-zapping water pistol out of the back pocket of her jeans.
‘Get back!’ she shouted.
As the children ran about screaming and shouting and Marvo tried to stamp out the flames on his burning sack, Becky took aim and squirted.
Out of the barrel of the big green intergalactic, space-zapping water pistol came a long clear jet of water. Becky squirted and squirted and squirted until the fire was out.
All the children cheered, Simon’s mum stared open-mouthed at the smouldering remains and Marvo the
magician stood in silence – completely soaking wet and with a face like thunder.
*
‘This has been some party,’ said Becky with real excitement in her voice, when everyone was ready to go home. ‘The very best birthday party I have ever been to. It was fantastic!’ She was clutching a particularly large goody bag.
‘Oh, thank you, Becky dear,’ said Simon’s mother. ‘If it hadn’t been for you, the house would have burnt down.’
Becky watched Marvo – dripping and furious – creep out of the front door.
‘It’s a pity you didn’t have a fire extinguisher up your sleeve,’ shouted Becky as he made his way sheepishly down the garden path.
Bad Becky Page 3