10

Having exited and re-entered the Magic Circle, Sophie, Zack, Jonny and Alex took their seats at the back of the Junior Room at precisely 9.01 a.m. in fevered discussion, their voices intermingling as they spoke over each other excitedly.

‘I promise I didn’t steal that book!’

‘Zack, mate, no one’s accusing you of stealing anything, OK? Calm down!’

‘I-I found a –’

‘So The Thieves’ Almanac was stolen and now the Bank of England has been broken into … That can’t be a coincidence, can it?’ said Sophie, tugging at her short fringe in excitement.

‘What was it the librarian said?’ Zack tried to focus. ‘Only members of Council have access to the restricted section.’

‘What, you think someone on the Magic Circle Council is helping these thieves? They took the book themselves?’

‘Maybe. The mastermind behind the bank robbery must be a magician, surely!’

‘Yes, but …’

‘I-I found a –’

‘Then again, if we managed to get past the automaton,’ Jonny pointed out, ‘anyone who’s into magic could. It needn’t have been a council member.’

They gazed around the room at the gaggle of juniors filing in: Max sticky with beans and egg; Deanna already sprawled across the floor, seemingly doing as many different versions of the splits as her elastic body would allow; the posh boys dressed up to the nines. Cynthia fiendishly ticking everyone off on her clipboard like a madwoman at bingo.

‘OK, maybe not them. But who knows?’

‘I-I found a –’

‘Out with it, Alex!’

‘I found this on our way out of the library …’ Alex opened up his clammy palm to reveal a limp red rose petal. ‘You … You don’t think Henry could have been down there, do you?’

As if on cue, Henry glided into the room, all in black once more, looking like an exhausted Grim Reaper shrouded in the acrid smell of death (where death = farts). He nodded at the four of them, cursing under his breath as Deanna rolled into his shins.

‘Well, listen – we need to find out who stole The Thieves’ Almanac – and soon,’ said Zack, his voice low now that Henry was in earshot. ‘Not just because they might be involved in this Bank of England plot – but it will help clear my name. There’s no way President Pickle will let me become a member otherwise!’ He looked at Henry, now sitting awkwardly on a hard plastic chair, his face deathly white.

‘Does he think he’s a vampire?’ said Jonny, following Zack’s gaze.

Steve and Jane suddenly entered noisily, dressed in their Chinese robes again, and covered in thick face paint, throwing sweets into the room like it was the start of the second half at a pantomime.

‘We don’t usually allow snacks before ten a.m.,’ said Deanna’s mum, clearly anxious that her position of official snack-giver might be usurped.

‘Yes – can you maybe not do that right now, thank you, Steve,’ added Cynthia distractedly.

Steve winked at the children in the room like he was in a cartoon, throwing a couple more gummy sweets behind him as he turned to sit down.

‘OK, can I have everyone’s attention, please?’ Cynthia stepped on to the raised area at the front of the room. ‘So, welcome to the second day of your induction week. Now, we’re extremely lucky to have some real-life members of the Magic Circle come and visit us this morning.’ She looked at Steve and Jane, who were now blowing up long, colourful balloons. Steve stopped huffing to give everyone another wave, letting go of his balloon in the process so that it flew around the room with a distressed squeal. Jane pretended to reprimand him, before bowing, proving that she was in on it all along – ever the double-act! Zack, Jonny, Sophie and Alex couldn’t help but smile.

‘Yes, thank you,’ continued Cynthia, hastily removing the saggy remains of the balloon from her cleavage and flicking it back at Steve with a twang. ‘So, Steve and Jane are here to give us a glimpse into what it takes to become a professional magician, which I’m sure most of you will have thought about.’

Sophie nudged Jonny in the ribs.

‘Then, as I mentioned yesterday,’ continued Cynthia, ignoring the stifled giggle from Jonny, ‘we’ll be splitting you up into pairs to encourage you to share ideas and skills.’

The four looked at each other uneasily – they’d forgotten about this.

‘And Henry is on hand, as ever, for any tips on making the most out of these sessions.’

Henry twisted in his seat to face the room, a smug lopsided sneer slimed all over his face.

‘Anyway, without further ado,’ said Cynthia, clapping her hands together, ‘please welcome Steve and Jane Morris, aka Ying and Yang!’

The room watched in near silence as Steve and Jane, in full traditional Chinese dress (or – more correctly – what they had interpreted as full traditional Chinese dress), barged their way on to the stage, both looking like they were about to explode they were so full of things ready to ‘appear’.

Even Alex couldn’t help but smirk at the objects ‘hidden’ about the duo – almost as if they didn’t care whether people saw where the silk scarves, flowers, umbrellas and balloons were about to appear from, like this type of magic was just a fun, easy puzzle!*

Steve paced back and forth, his right fist clenched over his midriff like he was holding a microphone and this was a primetime Saturday night TV show. He blathered on mindlessly, telling a string of dreadful jokes, giggling at his own punchlines, making constant digs at Jane, clearly loving the attention, in a world of his own.

‘I went to the doctor’s the other day … Knock-knock … The problem with my wife is … Who wants a balloon?’ and so on and so on.

Sophie turned to face the others, gobsmacked. Was this really what it took to become a professional magician nowadays? How did they still get bookings?

Zack leaned over, whispering, ‘If this isn’t reason enough for the Magic Circle to be taken over by younger people, I don’t know what is!’

Sophie nudged him, spotting Cynthia giving them another teacherly look from the front.

‘These two were on our side at the council meeting, though,’ reasoned Jonny.

Fair point. Ish, thought Zack.

Steve and Jane might be completely BONKERS, and their magic was dire, thought Sophie, but they were clearly great advocates of the society and loved the idea of children being part of it.

Steve continued pattering away, though now in a rather generic ‘foreign’ accent, apparently playing the part of some ancient Oriental wizard, as he bounced around the room producing a mass of bottles, thimbles, coins and hankies handing them to Jane – who appeared to be playing the part of a sort of ‘accepting peasant’ – all to a CD that Steve had borrowed from his local Indian restaurant and would hand back tonight over an overly spiced, celebratory lamb jalfrezi.

As a finale, Jane lifted up her robes to reveal that Steve had actually stolen her dress, leaving her in just a pale nightie. Quite what the narrative was meant to be, no one really knew, but at least the act was over!

Cynthia looked around, encouraging everyone to applaud, though even she was weirded out by what they’d just seen. Oh, how she wished some of the more acclaimed members of the Magic Circle would come and perform for the juniors. Oh well. She was grateful for Steve and Jane’s enthusiastic contribution all the same.

‘Well!’ she said, still trying to look elated at what had just happened over the past few minutes. ‘First of all, does anybody have any questions they’d like to ask these exceptional Magic Circle members? They were once young magicians just like you, remember … Not that there was a junior clubroom back in their day, but still …’

The four friends could think of a thousand questions, all of which were rather rude, had rude implications or were wholly irrelevant (and rude).

Henry’s hand slithered up. ‘What’s it like being on Council?’ he asked Steve in his odd voice.

Steve twinkled at the boy, clearly delighted by the question. He mopped his forehead with his sleeve, puffing like a Chinese dragon. ‘Well, it’s an honour to serve on Council. No doubt you saw how much fun we were having in the chamber yesterday!’ he added indiscreetly.

Cynthia gave him a tight-lipped pointed look: if he didn’t shut up, everyone would be wanting a peek inside the Council’s chamber. And then what would she say to her husband? All her work on the junior arm of the organization would be for nothing!

‘Yes, well, we’re not here to talk about council matters,’ she said hastily. ‘Does anyone have anything else to ask?’ She strained her neck, looking around the room, desperate. ‘Well …’ said Cynthia, glossing over the one-hundred-percent lack of interest. ‘I’m sure they all just want to hear about your act and your lifetime of experience one-on-one,’ she concluded weakly.

‘Erm … I’ve got a question!’ said Sophie, suddenly raising her hand.

‘Oh good – well done, Sophie!’ said Cynthia, looking relieved as Deanna gave her new nemesis a billion evils from the seat in front.

Jonny, Alex and Zack stared at Sophie. What was she up to?

‘It’s not so much about your act, but I just wondered whether, in your lifetime of performing magic,’ she said, ‘and as members of the Magic Circle Council, you have ever come across The Thieves’ Almanac.’

Wow – this was not part of their plan!

The room fell deathly quiet; the adults all turned to look at Sophie, a mixture of fear and embarrassment on their faces, as if she’d just asked a question about devil worshipping or where babies come from.

Henry began to squirm in his seat – so this wasn’t the first time he’d heard about the book, Zack noted. Perhaps he and his rose petals had been in the library before them.

For the first time in fifty-odd years Steve didn’t have a decent comeback. He looked over at Cynthia, who was clearly dismayed. What was it with these new children? First eavesdropping on a council meeting, and now this! Didn’t they know not to ask questions about that reckless book? Couldn’t they just ease off for once?

From the back of the room the fruity voice of President Pickle sounded, like a horn announcing his arrival.

Oh great – of all people to appear out of thin air … What perfect timing, thought Cynthia, briefly closing her eyes and wishing it would all just go away! ‘Edmund, we were just –’

‘Any mention of The Thieves’ Almanac on society premises is strictly forbidden,’ President Pickle interrupted authoritatively, stomping to the front of the room like a prize bull. ‘Unless, that is, you have any information as to its whereabouts,’ he added, scrutinizing Zack.

Sophie chewed her lip, wondering whether she should continue. She took a deep breath. ‘I just wondered whether you thought the book might have been used to help someone … break into the Bank of England.’

The question hung in the air like an unwanted guest. Henry was blatantly attentive now, poised like a spider pretending he was dead, but alert and ready. Zack studied him. From the moment Zack had first set foot in the Magic Circle, Henry had acted strangely – trying just a bit too hard to be his friend.

‘My dear little girl!’ sang President Pickle, his creamy cheesy grin swirling around the lower part of his face as he swivelled on his hips to address the entire room. ‘I don’t know where you dream up these preposterous ideas! Next you’ll be saying I’ve got something to do with the affair!’

Well, that had crossed my mind, thought Sophie.

President Pickle eyed her for an uncomfortable amount of time, fiddling with the presidential chain around his neck.

‘It’s an interesting thought,’ came the calm voice of Ernest Haigh.

The four friends turned in their seats, delighted to see someone who was on their side.

Henry scowled at him, evidently remembering his humiliation of the day before.

Ernest came forward, patting his grandson on the shoulder as he passed. ‘Well, I think it’s a perfectly reasonable question, Sophie,’ he said, winking mischievously at her. ‘If I was looking to break into a secure bank vault and leave without a trace, I’d be sure to study The Thieves’ Almanac first – it’s bound to contain some very useful information. Or so rumour has it.’

So they were on the right lines, thought Zack, pleased – his instincts had been correct!

‘Ernest, please!’ murmured Cynthia. ‘Don’t encourage them!’

‘What is this book everyone keeps on about?’ asked one of the toff brigade – not used to being left out, his bouffant hair bouncing up and down obnoxiously.

‘You might as well tell them,’ said Ernest plainly. ‘You know what happens when you keep these youngsters in the dark. They just go and find out for themselves!’ His eyes sparkled. ‘And we wouldn’t want that to happen again, would we?’

Jonny stared at his granddad. Did he already know about their early-morning escapade? He was certainly acting like he knew more than he was letting on.

Cynthia looked from Ernest to her husband and sighed. ‘Can you either tell them about this dreaded book or just let me get on with this meeting? Unless you’re here to teach them some magic …?’ she added, suddenly hopeful.

President Pickle suppressed a wheezy laugh. ‘Oh, Lord, no! I’m just here to keep an eye on … everyone.’ He gave the four friends a weasel-like grin, then turned to address the room. ‘Listen, this whole Bank of England business – nothing to worry about, OK? I’m sure the proper authorities have everything under control.’

Yeah, right, thought Zack.

‘Given the nature of the crime, Scotland Yard will no doubt come and seek our counsel at some point, but I will deal with them myself. Now, why don’t you just carry on with whatever it was you were doing?’ President Pickle continued. ‘Unless Steve and Jane are about to perform again, in which case I’m off!’ He laughed loudly at his own joke, clapping Steve on the back of the head with a hard thwack and waggling the back of his hand in a dismissive gesture towards Jane.

‘OK, well, let’s get on then,’ said Cynthia. ‘Pair up, please, and then I’d like you to teach one another an original trick from start to finish … Ernest, are you staying?’

Ernest gave her a kind smile. ‘As much as I’d love to, dear lady, I was actually on my way to the library,’ he said, looking pointedly at Jonny and the others. He headed for the door. ‘Of course,’ he murmured as he passed them, ‘if I do happen across The Thieves’ Almanac while I’m there, I’ll be sure to contact the proper authorities!’ He gave Jonny a wink as he pulled a long dark handkerchief out of his top pocket. With a flick of the wrist he transformed it into a solid cane, his eyes flashing at Cynthia. ‘How about that!’ he said, before limping out of the room and shutting the door.

As the others started to get into pairs, the four friends grinned at each other.

‘I didn’t know Granddad needed a cane,’ said Jonny thoughtfully. But then, how well did he really know the man at all? Following the longstanding dispute between Jonny’s father and Ernest, the two of them had been kept apart for most of Jonny’s life. (Granny Haigh had passed away before Jonny was born.) In fact, it was only because of Jonny’s interest in magic that his parents had allowed him more contact time with the mysterious man – yet even then they suspected that his interest in magic was merely a ruse; an excuse for Jonny to satisfy his curiosity about Ernest. Perhaps this had been true at first, but Jonny had now well and truly caught the magic bug.

‘You OK?’ asked Zack, seeing that his friend was lost in thought.

‘Oh, fine and dandy!’ said Jonny. ‘We should get into pairs.’

Sophie looked up to see that Deanna was now heading towards her, tense and bubbling with fury, clearly in a defiant strop. ‘Why don’t you want to be in a double act with me?’ she said through pursed lips, clearly raging underneath.

‘I’m sorry?’

‘She’s asking if you’d like to be partners,’ clarified Deanna’s mum, with a big smile.

‘Oh, erm, I think I might go with Jonny, if that’s OK … Or Zack … Or Alex,’ added Sophie, feeling Deanna start to vibrate in front of her.

‘You sure?’ quizzed Deanna’s mum. ‘You were all she could talk about last night.’

‘It’s all right – I’ll be Alex’s partner.’

They all turned to see that Henry was now standing beside Alex, grinning.

Oh, please, no – anyone but you, thought Alex.

Just then Cynthia wandered over, her husband behind her. ‘Actually I think it might be a good idea to split you four up,’ she said, though Sophie suspected this idea had come more from that daft dawdling husband of hers, now gurning stupidly in the background.

‘Zack, perhaps you and I could pair up?’ said President Pickle, quickly sidling up to him like he was on a treadmill.

Zack could smell the president’s stale cologne. Oh well, that’s just perfect, he thought, giving him a polite nod.

‘Yes, great idea. Sophie, why don’t you join Deanna? Alex, Henry should be able to show you some lovely card magic. And, Jonny, have you met Max …?’

It was a long old morning as Cynthia, Steve and Jane circulated, offering advice, while the young magicians showed each other their favourite tricks.

Alex – without doubt – had the worst of it. Henry, on the other hand, seemed positively delighted by the whole affair as he lorded it over Alex like some kind of military official who’d just been presented with a fresh slave. Alex looked up at the sinuous magician forlornly, as Henry manoeuvred him into a corner of the room. ‘What are you and your little gang up to? And what do you know about The Thieves’ Almanac?’ he demanded.

So Henry had heard of the book.

Alex shook his head. ‘P-please! I don’t … We don’t know anything about it!’

Zack looked up, sensing that his friend was in trouble. But just as he was about to go to his aid, President Pickle blocked his way. ‘Now now, no need to worry. I’m sure the delicate lad will be just fine! Probably do him some good to have a break from you!’ He grinned.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ said Zack.

‘Don’t take that tone with me. Remember who you’re talking to, young lad!’ snapped President Pickle in a darker tone. ‘I’d just like us to have a little chat, that’s all!’

Meanwhile, in the centre of the room, Sophie sat shell-shocked as Deanna performed at her, showering her in glitter and bubbles, not really doing anything – and certainly not sharing anything magic – just aggressively showing off. Sophie smiled, not wishing to antagonize her. Plus, she’d just had an idea about what ‘technique’ of her own she’d like to share with the girl!

Steve and Jane watched from a distance, trying to think of something positive to say.

All of a sudden Deanna stopped mid-flow in an amazing feat of deceleration, snarling at her dazed audience like a defensive chimpanzee. ‘Why aren’t any of you applauding?’

‘Oh, it’s because everyone is enjoying it so much!’ Her mother nudged Steve and Jane, and then gave Sophie a shake.

‘Yes, that’s right … I was saving my applause for the very end,’ added Jane wimpishly.

Like a rattlesnake attacking its prey, Deanna launched herself at her mother, beating her repeatedly with a garish fairy wand, causing it to light up and churn out bleepy music like an inappropriate soundtrack to the fight. Steve and Jane watched the real-life Punch and Judy Show with increasing concern as Deanna’s mum went full pelt trying to take charge of her child, crashing her to the floor like a member of the riot police squad, smothering her completely. Fifteen–love!

‘Are you four all right after yesterday?’ asked Jane, turning to Sophie with a sympathetic look. ‘President Pickle can be such a bully sometimes,’ she added quietly.

‘If truth be told,’ muttered Steve conspiratorially, ‘there’s a growing number of members – even those who sit on Council – who’d happily let youngsters in. It’s just that President Pickle is so influential.’

Interesting, thought Sophie. So they weren’t alone!

‘But you didn’t hear that from me!’ Steve winked. He tapped his nose theatrically, causing two chocolate coins to drop out of his nostrils which he pressed into Sophie’s palm.

Sophie smiled, both touched and disgusted – how long had those coins been in there?

In another corner of the room, Jonny was faring much better teaching Max his hydrostatic glass routine, which – with the help of surface tension – allowed you to turn a glass of liquid completely upside-down without losing its contents! Max grinned widely, his cheeks visibly inflating, as Jonny held the glass over his head, hoping he’d got the technique right and wasn’t about to drench the boy with Deanna’s mum’s overly strong orange fruit cordial. Jonny continued by placing matchsticks in the glass of inverted liquid, which dutifully floated up towards the base, ‘proving’ that there was nothing covering the mouth. He finished by clicking his fingers, instantly turning the orange juice into a long orange handkerchief that dribbled out on to Max’s head, muffling his glorious shrieks of delight.

Meanwhile Zack was still sitting facing the president of the Magic Circle, their eyes locked territorially.

‘I know it was you who took that book,’ said President Pickle eventually. ‘And as soon as I have proof, I’ll have you and your partners in crime out of here quicker than Houdini and Bess could perform Metamorphosis* – understand?’

So it was President Pickle who had scrawled Zack’s name on that bookmark. Zack could feel his earlobes begin to pulse hotly. Don’t rise to it, he told himself, wishing that Jonny was there to distract him. That’s exactly what he wants.

He cleared his throat. ‘I know I might look a bit different to the others around here,’ he said coolly, ‘but I swear I’ve never laid eyes on that book. Nor did I take your gavel, or whatever it’s called.’

‘Well, your girly girlfriend over there certainly seemed to know a lot about it – perhaps she’s the culprit?’ he said, with a wry, unsettling smile.

‘Leave her out of it, just leave everyone else out of it!’ shouted Zack, causing Steve and Jane to look up as Deanna stared into Sophie’s eyes, falling deeper and deeper into a trance (naughty Sophie!).

‘Temper, temper. I was only putting it out there as a suggestion!’ chided President Pickle mockingly, though clearly trying to goad Zack into giving something away.

Could this all be a bluff? Zack wondered. Perhaps President Pickle had taken the book himself, and was now in need of a scapegoat?

‘Everything all right over here?’ asked Cynthia, keen to avoid any more trouble.

‘Yes, dear – the boy was just teaching me a trick, that’s all,’ lied President Pickle irritably, pulling his collar away from his neck, which bulged over like one of those pink dangly things turkeys have.*

‘I’m so glad that we’ve all moved on after yesterday’s little … tiff,’ said Cynthia as she headed off to the next pair.

Hmm, not quite, thought Zack.

‘Go on, hurry up then – let’s see a trick,’ sighed President Pickle, rolling his eyes at Zack like tricks were just for fools and that the president of the Magic Circle shouldn’t have to endure such things, ‘before we all broil to death!’

Zack was not in the mood for performing. Still, what better way to get his own back? He proceeded to bamboozle the living daylights out of the president with a series of impeccable coin vanishes. President Pickle tried to keep up as coins leaped from one hand to the other, passed through his shoe and on to his head, jumped into his pockets and reappeared under his watch. To end, Zack transformed the 10p pieces into shiny bronze pennies.

It was a majestic display of dexterity, and soon the whole room had turned to watch, amazed by his lightness of touch. Jonny and Max were on their feet, starting the applause. Even Deanna gawped – though perhaps, Sophie thought, this was because she was now in a semi-permanent state of deep trance.

President Pickle frowned, not knowing what to say, trying to look like he’d followed Zack’s every move. ‘Hmm … Yes … No,’ he said after a while. ‘Not bad. Though Council won’t like not knowing how something works,’ he concluded, patting Zack on the head.

Wasn’t that the whole point of magic? thought Jonny, shrugging.

‘Well,’ said President Pickle, standing suddenly and addressing the room like a king. ‘It’s been lovely to see what you all get up to, but that’s enough chit-chat for now!’ He was aware of the grumbly feeling in his tummy, and rubbed it fondly, priming it for lunch. ‘Let’s give these youngsters a chance to learn a few things for themselves, shall we?’ He raised his eyebrows at his wife. ‘That’s how it was in our day, after all. None of this mollycoddling!’

Cynthia shot him a look.

‘And good luck, of course,’ he continued. ‘Remember, it’s all about making a good first impression in front of Council.’ He sneered at Zack. ‘Right, I think it’s time for my …’

The four friends watched as he jogged out of the room clumsily, bashing into a chair, salivating, in clear desperate need of his all-day-breakfast panini.

‘Yes, OK, good,’ said Cynthia, clapping her hands. ‘Perhaps that’s enough magic for one morning. Let’s show our appreciation to Steve and Jane, shall we?’

The pair left the room, bowing as if they’d just played the London Palladium. ‘Thank you – thank you so much, you’ve been wonderful. Goodnight!’ Just as the door swung shut behind them, Steve’s arm shot back in with a final spray of sweets.

You can tell a lot by how someone leaves a room, thought Sophie as she watched Deanna begin to wake up, disturbed by the shower of fruit salads.

‘Right, well, I hope you’ve all learned something new today.’ Cynthia smiled at them. ‘So this afternoon – like tomorrow – will be reserved for private practice. You can do that here in your pairs, or at home if you’d prefer.’

The four friends looked at each other – no prizes for guessing which option they’d be going for!

‘And just to remind you – you’ll be expected to perform at least three different types of magic in front of Council, so it can’t just be all cards. OK, Alex?’

Alex didn’t care if he had to perform three million different types of magic, just so long as he could be back with his friends.

Henry’s sixty-fifth high-frequency trump of the day whinnied gracelessly out from his backside as he turned to Alex. ‘I look forward to seeing you again very soon,’ he hissed.

Alex seized the moment to wriggle out from his corner, darting over to Zack.

‘Now,’ continued Cynthia, ‘if anyone leaving can do so quietly,’ she said, lowering her voice. ‘Just so we don’t disturb De–’

But dear darling Deanna was already sitting bolt upright, like a cobra ready to strike. Sophie smiled at her innocently.

‘HOW. LONG. HAVE I BEEN ASLEEP?!’ she screamed, pacing the room, chewing noisily on a fruit salad and rounding on her mother once more. Deanna’s mum rolled up her sleeves and put her hair into a bun, like she did when baking a truck load of fresh brownies. She crouched low to the ground, readying herself.

Zack, Sophie, Jonny and Alex hastily regrouped. ‘Let’s get out of here!’