The Steam Whistle Theatre Company by Vivian French

Author:Vivian French [French, Vivian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781406389876
Publisher: Walker Books
Published: 2019-02-06T16:00:00+00:00

Gertie warbled on. As she finished there was a mere spatter of applause; the audience were attacking their fish, and although there were smiles and nods and approving murmurs, it was hard to clap with a knife in one hand and fork in the other.

The Maestro of Magic, behind the curtain and unaware of these restrictions, was reassured by what he heard. Any show of enthusiasm would have been troubling: he was the main attraction, and the audience needed to know that. He straightened his star-spangled cloak and stood up as Gertie came back.

“Pleasant enough,” she said as she passed him. “Noisy eaters, though. Clattering their cutlery as if they haven’t eaten for a week… And there’s a dreadful smell of fish!”

Mrs Moore, who was waiting to introduce Baby, glared at her. “I’ll see you tomorrow. And make sure you’re on time, Miss Gracegirdle!” Gertie rolled her eyes, and slipped away to watch.

“And now, Ladies and Gentlemen, the event you’ve all been waiting for!” Mrs Moore clapped her hands to make sure her diners were paying attention. “Straight from an enormously successful season in the great metropolis – and now here, in our very own Uncaster. I ask you to give a wonderful welcome to Little Baby Bubbles, the one and only child escapologist and master of magic … and only eight years old!”

The curtains opened to deafening cheers and Baby stepped forward. His costume was carefully designed by his mother to make him look as young as possible, and he had learned to slouch to disguise his height. Even so he bore little resemblance to an eight-year-old, sporting as he did the suspicion of a moustache. If he noticed the sudden, surprised hush that followed his appearance he showed no sign of it, and he ignored the small girl at the back of the room who shouted, “Where’s the baby?” Buoyed up by Gertie’s song he swept off his silver top hat before there could be any further comment – and there was a universal gasp of astonishment as a large bunch of flowers sprang up inside.

Uncaster had seen few magicians, and as Baby went through his routine he was rewarded with enthusiastic shouts of, “Do it again, laddie! Do it again!” Even the noise of endless plates being scraped clean, and the rattling and clashing of cutlery, didn’t upset him as much as it usually would have; the wild thumping of beer mugs after a particularly cunning piece of sleight of hand made up for it.

Jago, frozen to the spot in wonder, had to be prodded in the back before he got on with handing round thick slices of well-boiled beef. The other serving boys were equally fascinated: gravy was spilt, sauces forgotten and spoons dropped – but nobody complained.

The room grew hotter and hotter as the meal and the show went on. The smell of overcooked meat and vegetables thickened, the floor grew sticky with spilled beer, and the shouting and exclamations of amazement grew louder and louder.

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