The Boy in the Biscuit Tin Page 3

  And that was when they noticed that everyone was peering up at the church spire. It looked like there was someone up there, clinging to the weathervane. Surely not! It couldn’t be – could it?

  “It’s Alex!” shouted Francis. “He’s on the steeple!”

  It took them nearly an hour to get Alex down. First, the fire engine came and extended its hydraulic platform – but it couldn’t reach anywhere near high enough. Then eight firemen stood in the graveyard with a rubber sheet between them, and shouted at Alex to jump – but Alex refused even to look down. In the end they had to call a helicopter. A cheer went up as it roared in across the rooftops and hovered above the church with its blades whickering loudly. Then a door opened in the side and a man was lowered on a rope. He touched down next to Alex and clipped him into a harness, and when the helicopter rose again both of them were dangling from the end of the rope. They were reeled back into the helicopter before it swung round and descended in the churchyard, generating a wind that lifted several hats and sent them spinning down the street.

  “Hooray!” cried the crowd.

  The door opened and out came Alex, draped in a blanket. He was met by a policeman.

  “Alex!” yelled Francis cheerfully. “It’s us!”

  But if Alex heard, he gave no sign.

  “Alex!” yelled Francis, waving. “We’re here!”

  Francis struggled through the crowd with Ibby close behind him and they arrived breathless and smiling just as Alex turned around, pointed straight at Francis and said coldly, “That’s him. It’s all his fault.”

  Francis’s face fell.

  PC Mackenzie looked at Francis in his pyjamas, and at Ibby in her dressing gown, and said, “I think you’d all better get in the car. I’ll take you home.” So Ibby, Francis and Alex climbed into the back seat, and the police car pulled away with photographers from the Weekly News running alongside and taking pictures through the windows.

  For a long while nobody spoke. Then Francis said, “Next time, I’ll tie you on to something.”

  “Next time,” retorted Alex, “I’ll be the magician.”

  “But that’s not fair!” protested Francis. “I’m the one who—”

  “Boys, boys!” said PC Mackenzie, glancing in the rearview mirror. “That’s enough! And let’s have no more talk of ‘next time’. Understood?”

  Alex and Francis both sat back meekly and didn’t say another word all the way home.

  Aunt Carole rushed outside when she saw the police car coming up the drive. “What happened?” she cried. “Are they all right?”

  PC Mackenzie told the children to stay in the car while he and Aunt Carole had a “talk”, so they all had to sit in gloomy silence while he and Aunt Carole spoke in low voices on the front step. Every now and then Aunt Carole shook her head and shot dark glances in their direction. And then, eventually, PC Mackenzie returned to the car and let them all out.

  “Thanks again,” said Aunt Carole.

  “Any time,” said PC Mackenzie. Then he got back in his car and drove away.

  “What possessed you?” said Aunt Carole, when they got inside.

  Alex mumbled something that no one else could hear.

  “Pardon?” said Aunt Carole.

  “I said it wasn’t my fault.”

  “Whose fault was it then?”

  “His,” said Alex, looking at Francis.

  Francis blinked. He looked small and rather blameless in his pyjamas and wellington boots.

  “I suppose Francis made you climb it, did he?” said Aunt Carole.

  “I didn’t climb it.”

  “That’s not what PC Mackenzie said. He said you were right at the top.”

  “I was. But I didn’t climb up there.”

  “How did you get up there then? Fly?”

  “I can’t tell you,” said Alex.

  Aunt Carole made an exasperated noise. In that case, she said, Alex could go to his room and think long and hard about what he’d done. Alex was furious. If anyone should be thinking long and hard about what they’d done, he said, it should be Francis, and choking back tears he stomped upstairs in his dressing gown. Unfortunately, he still wasn’t quite as heavy as he ought to be, so he bounced lightly on each step, giving the impression he was cheerful. To make up for it he slammed his door extra hard so that the KEEP OUT sign fell off.

  Poor Alex. Ibby couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. It must have been horrible stuck on the steeple in his dressing gown, with everybody looking. And she couldn’t help feeling partly responsible – even though she had warned him not to go out of the window. So she went upstairs and knocked timidly on his bedroom door. “Alex?” she said. “It’s me. Can I come in?”

  “NO!” barked Alex.

  So Ibby put the KEEP OUT sign back on the door and crept away again.

  CHAPTER 8

  The Disappearing Coin

  “YOUR AUDIENCE WILL NOT BELIEVE WHAT’S RIGHT IN FRONT OF THEIR EYES.”

  It is always awkward being in someone else’s house when they’ve been told off. You don’t know where to put yourself. Eventually, Ibby went to her room and lay on her bed reading. It is uncomfortable reading in bed though, unless you’ve got lots of pillows at your back. If you lie on your side you have to support your head with your hand, and after a while your wrist gets stiff. And Ibby couldn’t really concentrate knowing that Aunt Carole was cross, and that Alex was probably crying his eyes out in his room. So presently she closed her book and went downstairs. She found Aunt Carole in the kitchen, grating Cheddar to make macaroni cheese.

  “Hello,” said Aunt Carole cheerfully. “Everything all right?”

  “Yes, thanks,” said Ibby.

  “Not feeling homesick then?”

  “No,” said Ibby. “Not at all.” To her surprise, she realized this was true. So much had happened since yesterday that she hadn’t had time to think about missing home. Ibby picked up a crumb of cheese on the end of her finger and ate it. Then she said, “It wasn’t his fault, you know.”

  “What wasn’t?”

  “Getting stuck on the steeple.”

  Aunt Carole sighed. “It’s kind of you to defend him, Ibby, but Alex is old enough to take responsibility for his actions.” The pile of cheese was getting big now, so Aunt Carole tipped it into a casserole dish and carried on grating vigorously.

  Ibby tried another approach. “Aunt Carole,” she said. “Do you know what ‘levitation’ is?”

  Suddenly Aunt Carole’s hand slipped. She gave a cry and examined the end of her finger. There was a red drop of blood beading on the tip.

  “Oh!” said Ibby in dismay.

  “My fault,” said Aunt Carole, putting her finger under the cold tap. “I wasn’t concentrating.”

  Ibby looked on while Aunt Carole dried her finger on a paper towel and found some plasters in the drawer. Aunt Carole had seemed startled by her question. Was that why her hand had slipped? Or had it just been a coincidence? Before Ibby could find out, she heard feet pounding down the stairs, and Alex and Francis appeared in the doorway.

  “When’s dinner?” asked Alex. Somewhat to Ibby’s irritation, he appeared to have completely recovered from his ordeal.

  “Twenty minutes,” Aunt Carole said, wrapping a plaster round her finger. “I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

  Alex and Francis exchanged a significant look, then ran upstairs again.

  “Now – what were you saying?” asked Aunt Carole.

  Ibby hesitated. “Nothing,” she said, and she turned and hurried out after the others.

  Aunt Carole stood and watched her go, thoughtfully.

  Ibby found the boys in Francis’s room. They had cleared a space on the floor and were sitting round the magic set. “You’re not doing another trick now, are you?” she said.

  “Yep,” said Alex.

  “But there isn’t time! We’re eating in twenty minutes.”

  This didn’t seem to bother Alex. He had already taken the lid off the
magic set and was examining the contents.

  Set into the plastic tray were several curious items: a hand mirror, a red silk handkerchief, a silver coin, a gold key and a pack of cards. Ibby eyed them all suspiciously.

  “What does this do?” asked Francis, fingering the handkerchief.

  “That’s the Multicoloured Handkerchief,” said Alex. “It changes colour each time you pull it out of the hat.”

  “That sounds all right,” said Ibby cautiously. After all, you couldn’t do much damage with a handkerchief, could you?

  “No, it doesn’t,” said Alex. “It sounds boring.”

  But Francis wanted to try it anyway.

  “Well, you can’t,” said Alex.

  “Yes, I can!” shouted Francis, and he went on to say that no one ever did what he wanted, and that since he was the one who had found the magic set in the first place, he should be allowed to do all the magic tricks. Then his mouth turned down at the corners and his chin began to tremble.

  “Oh, all right,” said Alex wearily. “But the next trick is mine.”

  Francis cheered up instantly. He shook out the black satin cloak and put it round his shoulders. Then, following the instructions carefully, he put the handkerchief into the top hat and recited the following lines:

  A hanky sits

  Within this hat

  It went in red

  And comes out - black!

  He stirred the air three times with the magic wand. The handkerchief started swirling round and round inside the hat, like water going down a plughole. As it went round, it turned darker and darker – and by the time it had stopped swirling, it was black! Delighted, Francis turned it blue next, and then pink – and it worked well until Ibby said “Taupe” and then it went a muddy sort of colour and refused to change again.

  “Now look what you’ve done,” said Alex.

  Francis folded the handkerchief carefully and put it back. Perhaps it would be all right again after a rest.

  “What about the key?” said Ibby hastily. “What does that do?” Unlike the other props, which fitted snugly into plastic hollows, the key lay in an oval depression that seemed far too large for it.

  “That’s the key from the Vanishing Act,” said Alex. “You get a box and lock something inside it, then when you open the box again, the object has vanished. You have to do the trick again to get it back.”

  “Let’s try it with your watch!” cried Francis.

  But Alex wouldn’t. His watch was a large black digital with lots of buttons and he didn’t want to risk it. “Anyway,” he said. “It wouldn’t work. The padlock is missing.”

  Francis checked under the plastic tray. There was no padlock, but as he tipped the tray, the silver coin fell out and rolled onto the carpet. Alex picked it up and looked at it. On one side there was the head of a man in a top hat. On the other side there was nothing. “It’s the Disappearing Coin,” he said.

  “What does it do?” asked Francis.

  “Disappears, duh,” said Alex rudely.

  Under the Disappearing Coin trick there was a series of tiny diagrams of a magician making movements with his right arm as though directing traffic. He was balancing the coin on his right elbow, then catching it with his right hand.

  “Easy-peasy,” said Alex. He put the coin on his elbow, then brought his hand round, quick, to catch it – but the coin flew off and hit the carpet with a thud.

  Francis sniggered.

  “Stand up and do it,” suggested Ibby. So Alex stood up and put the coin back on his elbow. But this time the coin flew across the room and struck the opposite wall.

  “Can I have a go?” asked Francis.

  Alex ignored him. He retrieved the coin and tried again and again, getting more and more annoyed with each attempt. Eventually he gave up. “I don’t think it’s possible,” he said, putting the coin back in the tray.

  “What about the cards?” said Ibby.

  Alex brightened. “I’m good at cards.”

  While Alex was getting them out of their packet Francis stole another look at the instruction booklet. It was lying open at the Disappearing Coin trick. There was a short rhyme on the facing page. Francis recited it softly to himself:

  Watch me very closely,

  See how it’s done.

  Now you see me.

  Now I’m GONE!

  He took the coin out of the tray, bent his right arm like the man in the diagram, and balanced the coin on his elbow. Then he brought his hand forwards quickly, to catch it. But the coin dropped off and rolled across the carpet. Francis tried again. He was closer the second time. The trick, he thought, was to bring your elbow backwards at the same time as you brought your hand forwards. So, while Alex was showing Ibby how to shuffle, Francis went back and forth in the black top hat and satin cloak, balancing the coin on his elbow, lunging forwards, missing, and then trying again. And then all of a sudden, he caught it! He let out a whoop of surprise. “Did you see that?”

  “See what?” said Ibby, looking round.

  “I caught it! I caught the Disappearing Coin!”

  There was a shocked pause.

  “You needn’t look so surprised,” said Francis.

  The others remained silent. They were still staring at the place where Francis’s voice was coming from. Francis – and the coin – had completely disappeared.

  “What’s the matter?” said Francis. There was a note of doubt in his voice now. “What are you staring at?”

  “Nothing,” said Ibby eventually. “Absolutely nothing at all.”

  CHAPTER 9

  Francis Disappears

  “AFTERWARDS YOU CAN EVEN LET YOUR AUDIENCE EXAMINE THE COIN.”

  Alex crossed the room with his arms outstretched, like someone playing blindman’s bluff without the blindfold.

  “What are you doing?” Francis’s voice sounded as though it had moved a little to the left. “What are you – ouch!”

  “He’s here!” reported Alex. “I can feel him.”

  “Of course I’m here,” said Francis.

  “But, Francis,” wailed Ibby, “you’re not.”

  “What do you mean?” said Francis uncertainly.

  “Look at yourself! You’ve disappeared.”

  The others heard Francis’s footsteps move across the room and stop in front of the mirror. There was a pause, then they saw his breath fog up the glass. A moment later, one of his dresser drawers seemed to open and close of its own accord. “It’s true!” came his voice. “I’m invisible!” His footsteps moved back across the room and the others followed his progress by the objects which appeared to leap into the air of their own volition. Then all of a sudden Alex gave a yell and clapped his hand to his ear. “Ow!”

  Francis giggled.

  “All right, Francis, that’s enough,” said Alex crossly. “Give me the coin.”

  Francis was silent.

  “Francis?” said Alex.

  There was a pause, then Francis spoke again – from the other side of the room, this time. “No!” he said.

  “Right!” said Alex, advancing with his arms outstretched. Francis could be heard laughing and running away – then the bedsprings creaked.

  “Ha!” said Alex, flinging himself on the bed.

  Ibby heard Francis give a disembodied shriek, then the struggle began. It was strangely disconcerting to watch since it looked as though Alex was having a fit. He staggered round the room, stumbling over toys and hurling himself into walls with a terrible expression on his face.

  “Stop it!” cried Ibby. “Just stop it!”

  She did her best to come between them, but it’s hard to separate two fighting people – especially when one of them is invisible. Fortunately, the fight was interrupted by Aunt Carole calling up the stairs, “Dinner’s ready!”

  Alex fell back, panting. “You’ll have to come back now!” he said.

  But Francis was stubbornly quiet.

  “Please come back, Francis,” said Ibby. “You can’t let Au
nt Carole see you like this, can you?”

  Francis remained silent.

  “Mmm – it’s macaroni cheese,” said Alex slyly. Macaroni cheese was Francis’s favourite. Alex opened the bedroom door and wafted it back and forth a few times, bringing the cheesy smell into the room.

  “All right,” said Francis suddenly. “What do I have to do?”

  “You’ve got to catch the coin again,” said Ibby. “But be careful.” (She had noticed that beside this particular step Uncle Godfrey had scribbled: 243 attempts!!!) “Do it over there, near the wall. If you drop it now, we’ll never—”

  But it was too late. They heard a rattling among the pile of board games and jigsaw boxes. It sounded just like something small getting lost among them.

  Alex groaned.

  “It’s all right,” said Francis. “It’s here somewhere.” And the games began shifting left and right as Francis rooted through them. Alex and Ibby went to help. They ran their hands over the carpet, but all they found was an old penny, a limpet shell and a button – no invisible coin.

  “We’ll have to search the whole room now,” said Alex.

  They surveyed the room despondently. Francis had a lot of toys, and every single one of them was lying on the floor. Aunt Carole was always telling Francis to tidy his room, but he never did. It was littered with stuffed toys, building blocks and plastic figures; the invisible coin could be anywhere. Then Ibby had a bright idea. “Do you still have your metal detector?”

  “Yes!” cried Alex. He ran to his room and returned a minute later with what looked like a lightweight vacuum cleaner. But before they could begin the search, Aunt Carole shouted up the stairs again, “IT’S GOING COLD!”

  Alex passed the metal detector to Francis. “You’ll have to stay up here,” he said, “until you find it.”

  “But what about my macaroni cheese?”

  Alex shrugged. “The quicker you find the coin, the quicker you can come downstairs.”

  “That’s not fair!”

  “Neither was doing the coin trick when it wasn’t your turn,” said Alex, and he turned on his heel and marched out the door.