Читать книгу The Magical Peppers and the Great Vanishing Act - Sian Pattenden - Страница 9

t’s gigantic. How on earth are we going to make it disappear?”

Monty Pepper was taken aback at how vast the museum seemed as he, Esmé and Potty walked through the tall, iron entrance gates. Monty wore a new red cape over his velvet magician’s suit; Potty was in a yellow satin number worn over a tweed suit. Esmé wore her light summer cagoule (ready for all weathers), which had a large pocket. In it she carried a penknife, a small torch and a packet of strawberry chews, just in case anyone got hungry. Everyone was prepared to meet Henry J. Henry and see inside this inspiring Mega-Million Super Museum.

The building was impressive – enormous stone pillars supported the Greek-style triangular roof. The museum was at least the size of a football pitch plus a department store on the side. It stood, a triumph of traditional, imposing, stone-clad building-ness.

“It must be very old,” Monty said.

“Construction work was finished in eighteen fifty-three and took over two decades,” said Esmé. “I read about it at the library.”

The Peppers and Potty walked alongside the flourishing garden at the front – even the outside was part of the new museum. Here were Plants from Really Really Ancient Times – a display that included Welwitschia from the Namibia desert, a shrub that can live for up to two thousand years.

Potty raised his eyebrow. “Better not make that disappear,” he said.

They walked to the entrance, up a flight of grand stone steps that were being scrubbed furiously by around twenty cleaners in white coats.

“That’s a lot of cleaning,” remarked Monty.

At once, a beam of bright white light hit the central column, followed by a pulsating strobe of purple to the right-hand side of the building. The visitors stopped in their tracks. Loud music pumped from large speakers at each side of the museum, with deep bass notes and some toppy hi-hats.

“Technical rehearsal, light show number one,” shouted a man, who wore a safety helmet and had an orange vest over his clothes. “Cue the lasers.”

Esmé, Monty and Potty gasped as the words MEGA-MILLION ROYAL OPENING appeared in mid-air before them. The laser display then changed to the words HER ROYAL HIGHNESS, then formed into an image of a crown, which slowly morphed into the outline of a corgi.

“OK, that’s enough for now,” said the man in the hard hat, and the lasers stopped at once.

“Impressive,” said Monty. “Do you think they’ll put your name in lasers for the opening, Potty?”

Uncle Potty furrowed his brow, not used to the notion of celebrity. “Maybe.”

“As the light show suggests,” said Esmé seriously, “this is more than a normal museum; this truly is a Mega-Million Super museum.”

The grand opening was clearly a big operation. By the main entrance was a poster of the Queen wearing her ceremonial robes and a huge crown. She was not smiling in the picture. Star Attraction! read the poster.

THE MUSEUM’S GRAND OPENING WILL SHOWCASE…

HER MAJESTY THE QUEEN’S REGAL JEWEL COLLECTION.

CAST YOUR EYES UPON A SELECTION OF THE MOST EXQUISITE JEWELS AND HIGHLY PRIZED TRINKETS FROM HER MAJESTY THE QUEEN’S OWN PERSONAL TREASURE TROVE.

“Ooh,” said Monty.

The Peppers and Potty stepped inside. There was a slow smoosh!, and a puff of dry ice enveloped them all as if they were on a film set.

“I want to live here,” cooed Monty. “It’s amazing.”

Someone passed by, pushing a small trolley filled with USB sticks and mouse mats. Each had a picture of a transparent skull on it.

“What are they for?” asked Monty.

“For sale, maybe,” said Esmé. “Does the museum have a shop?”

“Of course it does, old sport,” came a voice from the midst of the dry ice. A hand appeared through the fug of smoke, then an arm, then a man.

“Henry J. Henry,” the man introduced himself to Uncle Potty. He was tall and wore a light grey suit. “Pleased to make your acquaintance. I guess you are the Potty Magician.”

Henry smiled at them all – he seemed almost like an angel, thought Esmé, appearing from a celestial cloud.

Henry looked at Esmé and Monty. “And you must be...?”

“My niece and nephew,” said Potty, “Esmé and Monty Pepper.”

Monty sniffed the air. “What’s that nice smell?”

“Must be my aftershave, Toujours, Matey.”

Henry gazed down at the children. “I do hope you like our little museum here. We have made use of technology to create a sensational experience. And we want the experience to be experiential, if you see what I mean.” Henry smiled again and his teeth sent out a gleam that Esmé thought could have blinded a small animal such as a shrew or a weasel. The clothes Henry wore were expensive and his hair was smoothed back and sleek. He was one of those people who looked as if he was successful at everything – that all he touched turned to gold. Esmé imagined that Henry J. Henry lived in a mansion that was filled every day with fresh-cut flowers, that he drank champagne from small golden flutes and bathed in goat’s milk when he fancied it.

The dry ice dispersed.

“Welcome to our world, Potty Magician and young relatives,” said Henry. “The Mega-Million Super Museum is at your disposal.”

Then Potty spoke. “We’ve met before, Mr Henry. Weren’t you once a member of the International Magic Guys Club?”

“My, yes, I was,” said Henry, looking back intently at Potty. “But I don’t seem to recall...”

“Not to worry, I was just a whipper-snapper,” Potty said. “Wasn’t Harry Starfeathers your stage name?”

Henry J. Henry looked a little put out that Potty had such a good memory.

“Um, yes. But I got out of the magic business a while ago. There was too much pressure,” he muttered.

“Well, that’s a shame,” said Potty, deciding not to mention Henry’s nickname – Butterfingers.

“I never really had the talent,” continued Henry, “to charm with magic, to entertain. It’s a gift, I tell you, old sport. A gift.”

“There’s always something to improve on, or something new to try,” explained Potty humbly. “You can’t be left behind. Each trick must be better than the last.”

Henry sighed deeply. “It’s so nice to catch up. Anyway, we must talk turkey.”

Potty nodded. “The trick?”

“Yes, the trick,” replied Henry. “The Queen has personally invited you to perform at the Mega-Million Super Museum opening. Apparently she saw you on television and loved your act. She contacted me especially to put you on the bill for next week’s grand event.”

Esmé could see that Henry was stressing the fact that it was the Queen’s idea to invite Potty to perform.

“I am certainly a lucky magician,” said Potty.

“So, what sort of thing have you got in mind for the show?” Henry asked.

“Well, as you know a little bit about magic, I think you’ll understand when I say that I want to create an epic performance,” replied Potty. “Something truly memorable. So... I’d like to make the museum disappear, if that’s all right with you.”

“I see,” said Henry thoughtfully. “Yes, yes, that should be fine.”

Esmé and Monty glanced at each other. They had expected Mr Henry to react with a little more enthusiasm – or at least surprise. Uncle Potty was suggesting that he make the building vanish – not make a rabbit leap out from a top hat.

“The trick is based on those performed by Nigel Copperfield,” explained Potty, thinking that Henry’s slow reaction was just one of caution. “Nigel made the Statue of Liberty vanish once, if you recall. I’d like to use his methods.”

Henry was silent for a little longer, but soon he started beaming. “Mr Potty, I think it’s a superb idea. It certainly would attract a lot of attention… but you will be able to bring the museum back, won’t you, old sport?”

“Of course,” said a delighted Potty.

“Let me think,” said Henry. “You’ll have to perform the trick outside – create a bit of atmosphere, wave a wand around, then – whoosh! – the museum vanishes, at least to the naked eye.”

Potty nodded.

Henry paused again. Esmé could see that he was thinking through each detail in his mind.

“What I suggest,” said Henry at last, “is that making the museum disappear is all well and good, but we could add a little something extra.”

Potty looked intrigued.

“How about,” continued Henry, “a taster version of the trick, to whet the audience’s appetite for the main event? I suggest you make a small object disappear first – pretending that this is the sole performance – until you suddenly and unexpectedly make the museum disappear. Catching the audience off guard like that will give the whole trick the wow factor.”

Potty raised his one furry eyebrow. “Wow factor. I hadn’t thought of that,” he said. “It’s a wonderful idea.”

“We would just have to choose the first object,” said Henry, as someone with another trolley holding skull-shaped pencil sharpeners passed by.

Here, Esmé piped up. “We could use something from the museum – something ancient and special and magical... if that’s all right, Mr Henry.”

Monty agreed. “Good plan – it would give it a theme.”

“Yes,” answered Henry. “Ancient, special and magical; that would be excellent.”

“A pencil sharpener?” Monty suggested.

“Would that be magical?” asked Esmé. “Or even ancient?”

“I was thinking we could find a really old one.”

“I’ve an idea,” said Esmé, remembering the laser display outside the museum. “How about the crown?”

“Or maybe a mummified head?”

“Didn’t I just see a crystal skull on a mouse mat?” asked Potty.

“You can’t make a mouse mat disappear; that wouldn’t be very exciting,” said Monty.

“No no!” said Potty. “A piece of crystal would be marvellous – it would cast a magical light – but it must not be too large and awkward to disappear.”

“Incredible,” said Henry, his eyes wide. “You have all come up with the answer yourselves.”

Esmé wondered what Henry J. Henry meant by this. Of course they had come up with the answer – they were planning Potty’s show.

“I have something that is exactly what you need – an item that is part of the Royal Collection. A crystal skull. It is ancient, magical and special. Not only that, it is worth millions.”

“Well, we can try something else if it’s too precious,” said Potty. “I wouldn’t want to—”

“No no no, I insist you use it,” said Henry, a broad smile on his lips.

“We would take good care of it,” promised Monty.

“It sounds perfect,” said Potty, holding out his hand. “Let’s shake on it, Mr Henry. This is going to blow the Queen’s socks off.”

Henry seemed delighted. “I’ve always thought that with other rivals – I mean, other magicians – the best thing is to pool ideas.”

Esmé noticed Henry J. Henry suddenly blush and trail off. Did he just say rivals? Surely he didn’t see Potty as competition any more? Mr Henry was a successful museum curator, not an entertainer.

“Can we see this crystal skull?” asked Monty.

“Yes, I will have to check it for size and weight,” said Potty.

“We can go and look at it now, if you like,” said Henry, regaining his composure. “I can show you the Wealth and Wisdom Zone, which houses the Royal Collection.”

“Marvellous,” said Potty, guiding the children with his long arms as Henry led the way. The throbbing mass of cleaners, who were busy sweeping and polishing the floor, simultaneously parted as Henry walked through the main hall.

“He seems most enthusiastic. A fine fellow,” Uncle Potty murmured to the twins.

Monty nodded.

“Glance upwards, young sports!” Henry called to the Peppers, walking behind him. In so doing, Esmé and Monty both saw a number people in white lab coats dangling from the ceiling. They were also armed with broomsticks and were trying to polish the ceiling. No expense, it seemed, had been spared for this royal opening.