The Magical Peppers and the Great Vanishing Act. Sian Pattenden

Here you will find the best tricks and the most up-to-date advice. Since I last saw you, I have been trotting round the globe, performing at least four tricks a night to an eager audience. But it has taken its toll on my body. My legs are creaking, the old joints are barking and I also believe that I may be slightly deaf. Reader, I am getting old, so I want you to go forth, take the Pompkins baton, and perform the tricks included inside this book – at home, to friends and relatives, at school – and let’s see that the bubble of magic never bursts.

In all totality,

errr-flapp!

Esmé Pepper saw the letter arrive first, landing loudly on the doormat of the house at Highwood Road. It was addressed to Uncle Potty, but there was no clue as to the sender. The postmark was smudged and the address was printed, not handwritten. Esmé scratched her right ear and began to worry. She hoped it was not the letter that had been threatened by the local council.

Kerrr-phoooow!

The sound of a small explosion coming from the garden made Esmé start. Her twin brother, Monty, and her uncle Potty, a professional magician, were outside, busy creating new magic tricks. Esmé put the letter in her trouser pocket and ran out to the recently fitted magic shed that Potty had been using over the last few weeks. Potty was standing alone, covered in soot. Only minutes ago, the shed had sported its clean, watertight roof. Now there were pieces of charred wood all over the grass and the entire roof was gone.

“Problem?” asked Esmé.

“Nothing that can’t be fixed,” answered Potty brightly.

“Where’s Monty?”

“Here,” came a voice, and Esmé looked up to see her brother, happily dangling upside down from a tree by his ankles. “I don’t think we got it quite right, Uncle Potty.”

“I’ll go and get the ladder,” said Esmé, rushing to the hall cupboard.

Twenty

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