The Magical Peppers and the Island of Invention

“That’s a great idea,” said Potty.

“I love to think of the bigger picture,” said Keith. “You’re a magician then?”

“How did you guess?”

“The back of your cape has the words ‘The Potty Magician’ stitched into it.”

Potty scratched his chin and looked with intrigue at Keith.

“I wonder if you have any thoughts on spring-loaded objects?” asked Potty.

“Always tricky. They can shoot off and end up anywhere, which can cause problems with your audience – and health and safety. You should really be looking at having more control.”

Potty was impressed. Keith seemed to have something that Potty lacked – a practical take on adventurous ideas.

“Are you a fan of magic?” asked Potty.

“Oh, yes,” said Keith. “I love the skill, the showmanship. I like to work out how the magicians do each trick – it takes a lot of technical skill to make sure everything comes to life.”

Potty nodded enthusiastically in agreement.

“I’ve seen Pat Daniels perform live six times,” continued Keith. “I even managed to catch Trev and Peller once – they did that incredible trick which made it look like Trev was covered in a million dollars’ worth of banknotes and then was run over by an eighteen-wheel truck. For a start, the notes themselves can’t have been real…”

“But I heard that they were,” said Potty. “The money was passed around the audience beforehand…”

“They must have been switched at some point,” said Keith.

“It is possible…” mused Potty.

Esmé watched Potty and Keith talk with interest – they seemed to be getting on splendidly.

“Then of course there’s the truck,” continued Keith eagerly, “which must have had at least one fake wheel, so that when it went over him—”

“…he wasn’t injured! Of course,” shouted Potty, finishing Keith’s sentence. “And maybe the truck was weighted to one side, so as not to hurt poor Trev.”

“That’s it,” said Keith. “You’re a—”

“…genius!” finished Potty – and they both laughed.

At once, Esmé realised that Potty’s act, as great as it was, had been missing something – a person who could make Potty’s ambitions a reality. She was sure that Keith Chalk was this person.

“Uncle Potty,” said Esmé, tugging on his cape. “Why doesn’t Keith help you with this performance? He can make your tricks a hundred times…” Esmé was trying very hard not to say ‘less prone to disaster’, “…more workable. I read a book which said that many of the top magicians secretly employ inventors to make their act the most sensational – and completely unique.”

Keith looked at Esmé. “But I’m just a fix-it man.”

“I think Esmé’s right,” cried Potty. “You love magic, you try and work out how the tricks are done… and you seem to have the technical know-how to help create some incredible, never-before-seen tricks.”

“Well, I do like to tinker with electricals and gadgets,” said Keith. “I’ve even made a few inventions of my own recently…”

“Do say you’ll help us,” said Esmé.

There was a long, tense pause as Keith looked lost in thought.

“Why not,” he said at last. “It would be an honour.”

Potty and Keith shook hands; both were grinning widely.

Suddenly Twinkle started to swoon again. “It’s terribly hot in here,” she said.

“Oh, gracious, not again,” said Tabitha.

“I just feel a little…” Twinkle fanned her face with her hand as she slumped back into her chair. “Ooh, the spirits!” Twinkle squeaked as she wrinkled her nose.

“Oh, deary me, not another premonition?” Tabitha was concerned. “You’ve only just finished your last one…”

“I can’t help it,” murmured Twinkle. “These apparitions just arrive… Might be important.”

Twinkle’s head drooped to one side then the other. It looked as if she was watching a very slow game of tennis.

“Hurghmumble,” said Twinkle. “Flurghlehoi…”

“Anything bubbling up from the spirit world?” Tabitha asked her sister.

Esmé watched in wonder as Twinkle was visited – yet again – by some sort of mystical presence. Esmé wondered what she might see this time.

“I’ve got it.” Twinkle’s eyes opened and she shot up in her chair. “It’s a shark in a suit, and it’s coming to get us.”

“A shark in a suit?” asked Tabitha. “Sharks don’t wear clothes.”

“Oh, but this one does…” Twinkle Table said, and shivered.

Just at that moment, a man entered the auditorium.

An excerpt from

Dr Pompkins – Totality Magic

TRICK: Remove an Ice Cube with a Piece of String

Compatriots and cavaliers, place before you a glass full of water and one ice cube. Give each of your friends a piece of string – medium length – and ask them to remove the ice cube with it.

Watch as they will try to lasso the cube out – to no avail. Once they have given up, take the string, soak it in the water then double it into a loop at the centre.

Rest this loop on top of the ice cube, pour some magic dust over both of them (the magic dust is actually salt, but your audience need not know this) and you will be able to lift the ice cube, which will have become frozen to the loop. The ice melts as you pour the salt on it, and refreezes when you stop.

Now that is magic. Oh, no, it’s not – it’s science.

Magic Hands

An audience is always watching a magician’s hands – they are the tools of his trade – so it is very important to keep them looking good and working well.

Finger exercises:

The best way to improve your flexibility and coordination is by doing regular finger exercises like the ones described below:

Close your fingers very tightly into your palms, then open them one by one, starting with the forefinger. Then try opening alternate fingers – second finger, little finger, forefinger, third finger and so on {see fig. 1}.

Hold your hand up straight and separate your fingers as illustrated. Now change positions as quickly as you can {see fig. 2}.

Touch the tip of your little finger with the tip of your forefinger – first at the back, then quickly at the front {see fig. 3}.

In all totality,

Dr Pompkins

“Do my eyes deceive me or am I getting a sneak preview of the performance?” said the man. He had in his hand a poster for Potty’s magic show.

The assembled crew turned towards the darkness.

“You sneaky little ladies,” the man said, wagging a finger at the Table sisters. “You didn’t tell me you were planning another magic show. How wonderful!” He smiled round at everyone, although Esmé couldn’t help but notice that his smile looked a little forced. More like a grimace, she thought to herself.

“And you must be the Potty Magician…”

“Yes, that’s me,” said Potty, walking forwards, squinting into the shadowy auditorium.

The man walked up to the stage and shook Potty’s hand, then waved uncomfortably at Esmé and Monty. He was not used to children.

Twinkle and Tabitha rushed up to greet him.

“How nice to see you, Mr Portobello,” said Tabitha, trying not to flinch as he kissed her cheek, then Twinkle’s.

“Tea?” asked Twinkle.

“No, thanks, Twinks,” said Mr Portobello, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

So this is the man who wanted to buy the Sea Spray, thought Esmé.

Mr Portobello had greased-back hair and wore a shiny suit that was clearly one size too small for him. Esmé wondered what it was about him that made her feel uncomfortable, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. But the man was, for the Table sisters, all important, so Esmé kept smiling and decided to be as charming as she could.

“Potty’s act is going to be fantastic, Mr Portobello,” Esmé said.

“Please, call me Ronnie,” oozed Mr Portobello.

“Keith’s been helping us out too and we’ve come up with some great ideas,” Esmé continued.

“Keith… hmm, interesting,” Mr Portobello mused, stroking his chin while staring hard at Keith. He turned to Esmé. “And are you his delightful young assistant?”

“No, I am, Mr Portobello,” said Monty, a little annoyed.

“Wonderful!” replied the businessman, looking him up and down. “Nice swimming costume.”

Mr Portobello walked up to the ladder and leant heavily upon it with a shiny elbow. “I love a magic show,” he said. “I’ve seen all the greats – Mark Daniels, Terry Cooper, Ray Preston. Love ’em all. And I can see you’re doing something really special here, in the great tradition of… um…”

“Houdini? Ali Bongo? Dante the Magician – Sim Sala Bim?” asked Potty.

“Bless you! Ha ha ha!” replied Mr Portobello, laughing loudly at his own joke. “Anyway, you’re doing a great job, kids. I know that this show is going to be incomprehensible!”

Esmé wondered if he had meant to say ‘incredible’. Looking around, everyone else was still smiling at Mr Portobello, each with a slightly glazed look in their eyes.

“And if the show is any good,” boomed the businessman, “I’m going to buy this theatre for lots of money, renovate it and turn it into a fantastic venue that the Queen and Pete Middleton can enjoy.”

“We’re so glad you’re behind the show,” said Twinkle, simpering slightly. Esmé could tell how desperate she was to sell the theatre.

“Oh, I am,” oozed Mr Portobello. “And now Keith has workshop space over at Crab Pie Island, where I live. He can see to your props there, when things are not exploding…”

“That was just a minor glitch, Mr Portobello,” Keith reassured him. “I was having problems with the pincer… it’s all sorted now.”

Esmé realised that must have been the first explosion they had heard this morning.

“Good, good,” said Mr Portobello. “And I simply insist you use the space there to construct your gadgets for Potty. It’s the least I can do. That way I can keep an eye… I mean, help you,” said Mr Portobello, correcting himself quickly.

But Esmé had heard the slip up, and didn’t like the sound of it. Why does Mr Portobello want to keep an eye on Keith? she wondered.

Potty, however, seemed completely oblivious to the comment. “What a wonderful setting it must be, Keith,” he said. “Your workshop must be an idyll in an otherwise crazy world. To turn your dreams into reality… To create and create and create!”

“You’ll have to visit some day,” said Mr Portobello. “See my collection of luxury boats.”

“Yes, please,” said Monty, who had caught some of Potty’s enthusiasm.

“And of course,” added Mr Portobello, “you can see some of Keith’s incomprehensible creations.”

Just then a mobile phone rang.

“Ah, David,” shouted Mr Portobello into his device. “Yes. Yes, I’ve heard. Oh, straight away. Hm. All right, see you in a minute.” He put the phone back in his pocket and sighed.

“Right, I must be off,” he announced abruptly. “I have a meeting with my accountant. See you all soon.”

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