Chapter 31 Charlotte
Charlotte
‘After lunch today, we will have a special assembly,’ Mr. Wilson said, one side of his face twitching as though he were very pleased with himself indeed.
‘I know this has come out of the blue, but we only got a call last night.’ He held up a crumpled promotional poster and Charlotte felt her stomach lurch.
‘This is James Steamblack. You know, the famous illusionist? He’s doing a residency at that old theatre in Sycamore Park over December.
I know that some of you have already been to his shows.
Well, yesterday he called the school and asked if he could come in to show a few magic tricks to the kids. ’
‘Reckon he could work his magic and stop the little animals taping down the toilet seat?’ muttered Old Don Jones. ‘Last week I nearly—’
‘We’ll have a word,’ Mr. Wilson quickly interrupted. ‘Anyway, we need someone to act as a liaison for when he arrives, just to show him around the school, where he can set up and all that … and Ms. Harding, I’d like you to do that.’
Charlotte felt the blood drain out of her face. ‘Excuse me, sir, but I’m a little busy with my class. We’re really far behind—’
‘It’ll be all right on the night,’ Mr. Wilson said. ‘And even if it isn’t, people will forgive a few ten-year-olds for messing up.’
‘But sir—’
‘All you have to do is show him where to set up his gear,’ Mr. Wilson said. ‘Can I get a little cooperation, please?’
Charlotte nodded, forcing a little smile. ‘All right.’
As Mr. Wilson closed the meeting and the teachers headed for their classrooms, Jennifer leaned over and tapped Charlotte on the shoulder.
‘Are you all right?’
‘Ah … yes … I’ll be okay. I’m just—’ she struggled for a decent excuse.
‘I’m scared of magicians. You know, like how some people are scared of men on stilts or clowns?
They just give me the creeps.’ She pushed a strand of blonde hair back behind her ear.
‘Plus, you know, I went on a couple of dates with him.’
Jennifer’s eyes widened. ‘Ah. I see. This is before you met Jacob, is it?’
Charlotte grimaced. ‘Just before. Like, there wasn’t quite an overlap, but it was pretty close. And, well … I didn’t exactly break it off with James first. We only had two dates … I don’t consider it a relationship until at least three.’
‘It’s a grey area, for sure,’ Jennifer said. ‘Do you want me to cover for you? If you start coughing, we can claim you’ve suddenly come down with the flu. It starts around this time of the year, doesn’t it?’
Charlotte shook her head. ‘No. I have to face the music. Well, the magic, I suppose it would be, wouldn’t it?’
A few hours later, she found herself reluctantly standing by the school gates as James’s Mercedes pulled up.
He parked across two disabled spaces right by the entrance, then climbed out.
To her surprise, for the first time that she had seen, he wasn’t dressed in his theatrical gear, but in a simple sweater—albeit an expensive London brand—and a pair of Levi’s.
He didn’t appear to notice her as he walked around to the back and opened the boot, retrieving a large suitcase. As he shut the boot and walked back to the front of the car, Charlotte put up a hand as though to ask a question.
‘Ah, hello, James.’
He turned and appeared to see her for the first time. His smile dropped; he made a show of looking pensive, then gave a little shake and smiled.
‘Charlotte. How lovely to see you again.’
He took a step forward and put out a hand. She lifted hers, and he took it gently, giving it a little shake rather than anything extravagant like a theatrical kiss.
‘James, I—’
‘You’ve been busy, I know. I understand. You don’t need to explain. I had hoped … but a person with the amount of emotional baggage that I carry can’t be easy to get to know.’ He sighed. ‘I did enjoy our brief time together. I will always treasure it.’
Charlotte frowned. While he had cranked the niceness meter up to eleven, it was a little over the top.
Had he not seen her with Jacob after all?
The Mercedes they had seen had to have been his.
There couldn’t be two cars like it in all of Brentwell, what with its modified chassis, large snow tyres, tinted windows.
Had the fairy lights outside the tearoom window somehow obscured his view of Jacob and her dancing together?
‘James … I wanted to explain. It’s just that—’
‘Mr. Steamblack, is it?’ came Mr. Wilson’s voice from behind her; then the old headmaster was stumbling past and reaching for James’s hand.
‘I’m such a fan. I have all your DVDs. The wife thinks you’re some kind of God.
She wrote a letter to Penn and Teller, asking them to do an exposé on your tricks.
The best illusionist since Copperfield.’
‘My inspiration,’ James said. ‘If I can only become half as good—’
‘You’re already twice as good,’ Mr. Wilson said.
‘That’s what my wife thinks. Has Ms. Harding here not shown you the way in yet?
’ He rolled his eyes as best as his stricken face would allow.
‘Look at the poor thing, totally starstruck. My wife thinks you’re more handsome than George Clooney, and you’re twenty years younger!
Come on, I’ll do it myself. Ms. Harding, perhaps you could help Mr. Steamblack with some of his equipment? ’
‘Ah, sure.’
With a shy smile, James offered her a shoulder bag to hold, continuing to drag the heavy case himself.
As Mr. Wilson rambled on, holding James’s attention, she tried to make sense of the flurries of emotions swirling around her head.
This wasn’t how she had expected their first meeting since their second date to go.
A few bitter words, particularly aimed at Jacob, might have been more likely, but he either had no idea, or he had forgiven her.
Either way, she felt like a child who had been forgiven for a little mishap without any punishment. It was coming; it had to be. But when?
They took James to an assembly room where they had set up the little stage they used for the Christmas festival.
A couple of other teachers were floating around, in particular Amy Clairmont, who was holding a flyer behind her back and looked keen to snag an autograph.
Old Don Jones stood near the door, and whenever Charlotte walked within earshot, he would fire off some remark like, ‘Don’t look quite as good once the TV lights go off, do they? ’
James went behind a partition screen for a while, then when he stuck a head out to say he was ready, the teachers started to bring the kids into the hall. They sat on the floor in rows, the teachers standing nearby ready to shut down any bad behaviour.
Mr. Wilson climbed on to the stage and introduced James, who walked out to a series of cheers.
Some of the children had already been to his shows, and were asked to stop talking about magic tricks they had seen.
James, for his part, looked far different from the flamboyant entertainer, and after making a pack of playing cards seem to appear out of nowhere and shower the little kids sitting in the front row, he pulled up a chair and sat down.
‘This is a rarity for me,’ he said, eyes scanning the assembled children and the teachers standing nearby.
‘A chance to remove the mask. I can remember being your age. I was a lonely child. My mother was a circus performer, meaning we travelled from place to place. I was always the new kid, rarely in a school for more than a single term. Things are different now, aren’t they?
You’re taught to welcome the new kid, accept them.
That wasn’t the case in my day. I was shunned on a regular basis.
Gum in the hair, bugs in my gym shoes, worms in my bag. You name it.’
The children, hypnotised by his voice, looked stunned. Charlotte glanced across the room at Jennifer, who shrugged. Mr. Wilson was looking at his watch.
‘You see, I turned to magic to help with my loneliness,’ James said, waving a hand.
A pigeon appeared out of nowhere to huge gasps of surprise.
A couple of the youngest kids began to cry, their teacher swooping in to comfort them.
James, seemingly struggling to control the bird, tossed it into the air.
Its wings flapped and it disappeared out of sight over the partition screen behind him.
‘Fake,’ Old Don Jones muttered from behind Charlotte. ‘You can buy those on .’
It had certainly looked real to Charlotte, and clearly to Amy Clairmont too, who was inching close to the screen, trying to get a look behind it.
‘Mine has been a life of heartbreak,’ James said, and for a moment his eyes met Charlotte’s.
‘But through everything, I found magic by my side. Magic, which exists in all of you. Magic, which you should hold on to with everything you have.’ He paused, offering his rapt audience a smile.
‘And at Christmas … there’s no better time for magic, is there? ’
He pressed his hands together, pulled them apart, revealing a string of paper snowmen between them. He pressed his hands back together, flicked them at the audience, and a cascade of confetti showered the smallest kids again.
James waited until the cheering had died down, then scanned the kids again. ‘May I have a volunteer please?’
Half the kids raised their hands. James picked one of the Year Threes, calling the little boy to the stage.
After a brief interview, he asked the boy to choose from a pack of playing cards, which he showed to the audience.
The Queen of Hearts. James did a few elaborate shuffling motions, then produced a card from his pocket, asking if it was the boy’s card.
The boy shook his head, and the crowd groaned.
James frowned, waved his hands again, then plucked a card from the boy’s shirt pocket.
Again, not the boy’s card. James looked a little frustrated, but then his frown turned into a smile.