32

‘And now!’ roared Steve dramatically. ‘Please, please welcome your penultimate act of the evening … Alex Finley!’ He started tapping on the top of the microphone to simulate applause, filling the auditorium with a deep rhythmic thudding, like the monitoring of a foetal heartbeat.

Jonny, Zack and Sophie clapped enthusiastically, craning their necks towards the back of the theatre. They all knew how much this performance meant to Alex; how much it would help his confidence if he could just get through these next few minutes. He was ready.

But Alex didn’t appear.

Steve tapped the microphone again as the applause dwindled to nothing, several council members beginning to fidget in their seats, already yearning for their beds. ‘This is still on, isn’t it?’ Steve said, fiddling with the microphone cable, making it squeal some more, his voice echoing around the auditorium and answering his own question. He tried again: ‘Alex Finley, everybody!’

Steve, Cynthia, Zack, Jonny and Sophie began a second round of applause, but still he didn’t appear.

Alex’s three friends stared at each other, confused and worried.

Meanwhile Cynthia was already out of her seat, heading up towards the back room, hoping that the boy’s nerves hadn’t got the better of him.

President Pickle suddenly stood and turned to face his councillors. ‘Well, I’m afraid it’s automatic exclusion if you fail to appear in front of Council when summoned. That’s what the constitution says.’ Several of the sleepy members began to snore their assent as Bill accidentally let off the foghorn again, oblivious to what was going on and what was required of him. ‘Bill!’ joked President Pickle, ribbing him like a child. ‘Stop rubbing it in! Poor lad must have got a bout of stage fright!’ As he spoke, a bit of spittle flew out of his rubbery lips, landing flat on Max’s head. The unfortunate boy ruffled through his hair like he’d just been pooped on by a sparrow in the upper circle.

Zack, Jonny and Sophie watched in dismay as Cynthia returned to the stalls, shaking her head. No, not after everything they’d taught him – surely not!

‘Oh well, never mind!’ boomed President Pickle. ‘Let’s move on to the final group piece … I’ve been looking forward to this!’

‘Excellent idea, Mr President!’ sang Steve, taking the reins again. ‘OK, so if we could welcome Zack, Jonny and Sophie back onstage, please?’

The three of them looked at each other as the realization hit them like a cold shower – they couldn’t break out of the safe without Alex!

‘Come on!’ shouted President Pickle at the top of his voice. ‘We haven’t got all day!’ He looked over his shoulder, grinning around at everyone, searching for laughs.

Zack turned round to face the greying audience, desperately trying to think on his feet, glancing at the others for some sense of guidance. He cleared his throat. ‘Erm … We’ve decided not to go ahead with the group piece after all,’ he said, his thoughts tumbling out of control … This ruined everything! If they couldn’t get out of the safe, then they couldn’t achieve anything tonight! He sat down and motioned for Sophie and Jonny to do the same.

‘Nonsense!’ President Pickle was already making his way to the end of his row. ‘Come along, you three, back on your feet. You’re scheduled to perform now.’

‘We absolutely can’t get inside that safe without Alex,’ whispered Sophie urgently as they stood up again. ‘We’ll suffocate!’

‘I know,’ said Zack quietly, his mind racing, searching for a solution. ‘But what about the plan? Where is he?’

Sophie looked up to the gods for an answer, but what could Alf do at this distance without giving himself away? No – they were on their own again. Where was Alex? Perhaps one of them could go and find him …

‘Hurry up, will you?’ called President Pickle, a note of irritation beginning to show in his voice.

Jonny looked at his granddad. Could it be that he was nodding at him, encouraging them to press on? Glancing back at Zack and Sophie, Jonny cocked his head towards Ernest, who gave them all another reassuring nod and a smile.

Well, if Ernest has our backs, thought Sophie, then surely everything will be OK. Maybe!

‘Let’s give them some encouragement, shall we?’ said President Pickle, grabbing the microphone from Steve – thunk, pop, thud.

He started a slow hand clap, the kind reserved for ironic entrances or for marking the tempo change in the slow movements of long symphonies. Its effect was hypnotic though as all the council members began to join in; even Bill rang his bell and sounded his foghorn in time (well, not quite!), creating a strange, hypnotic sound that filled the confines of the drab theatre.

Zack, Sophie and Jonny slowly climbed up on to the stage – almost as if they were out of control of their own bodies – as President Pickle went over to the safe.

Was it her imagination, Sophie wondered, or had the safe been moved slightly?

Jonny stared at it. It was the first time he’d laid eyes on it properly …

It certainly looked a lot less enticing than during their rehearsals this afternoon, thought Zack as they gradually approached, already fearful of what might be coming up.

The repetitive thudding stopped as President Pickle spoke. ‘Lights!’

A magnificent spotlight suddenly shot down from above, coating the safe in an intense white light, like it was about to be beamed up on to some imaginary spaceship.

‘So, as you can see,’ began President Pickle, like he was a kid again performing in a parochial hall, ‘here we have a solid safe.’ He bashed the sides and there was a low bongggg! ‘It’s completely airtight and – as most of you will be aware – has resided in the council chamber ever since Houdini was here almost ninety years ago; I myself can vouch for its authenticity.’

Bill sounded his foghorn loudly, making the three friends jump.

‘As can our longstanding treasurer, who was in fact alive at the time. Thank you, Bill!’ The president twizzled on the spot to face the Young Magicians. ‘And so if you want to get inside and we’ll start the clock – nothing like a hearty bit of escapology before dinnertime!’ Several council members tittered in agreement, goading them on.

Jonny frowned at his friends. Where, oh where was Alex? There’s no way he’d leave them in the lurch like this. Something must have happened. But what? And how? Or was it just stage fright, as President Pickle had suggested? They looked up to the gods again, hoping for reassurance from Alf, but were blinded by the spotlight.

‘The thing is,’ Zack began in a quieter voice, looking up at President Pickle, ‘we physically can’t do this without Alex.’

President Pickle stared down, at him, grinning. ‘After you!’ he said, holding open the safe door like a refined gentleman might at a particularly swanky hotel and causing one particular audience member to laugh so hard their hernia exploded.