Flower of Scotland 2 by William Meikle Read Free Book Online Page A

asked.
    "Yeah, they’re here. Come on, hurry up. I’ve got to get tae the sweetie shop afore the next period."
    Nick Bayliss stepped aside, revealing two small chairs leaning against the boiler. Tony had now caught his breath properly and was just about ready to start but first he needed to set up the proper atmosphere. Granddad had told him that atmosphere was all, and that without it the trick would fall flat as a pancake and he would be left looking like a duck’s arse. Tony had never seen a duck’s arse, but he imagined it to be pretty horrible.
    "Just wait till they see this trick," he thought "Then they won’t be needing to go to the sweetie shop, and we’ll see who looks like a duck’s arse then."
    "C..could I have those two chairs," he stammered, pointing with a shaking finger, "Over here in the middle of the floor facing each other."
    By the time the chairs had been positioned to his liking he had regained his composure and he stood silently in front of them, saying nothing, letting the tension build. He looked around, meeting each one of them in the eye before finally settling on his accomplice.
    "All right Ian, lie down over here, across the chairs."
    Ian Kerr, a tall but fat boy, looked around with an aggrieved expression.
    "Why does it have to be me? I always get to do the stupid things."
    Ian, even more so than Tony, was the class scapegoat. He was always the very last one chosen when it came to picking football teams, always the last one back from cross country runs and always, but always, the brunt of the cruellest classroom jokes. Fortunately he was good natured and had developed a resignedness to his lot. He only really protested when, as now, he was called upon to be a guinea pig. He was also Tony’s best friend, his companion in adversity against the whims of the other children.
    Tony looked at him and smiled. He hoped that his look would say all that he felt, that he chose Ian because he was his friend, that he trusted him not to make a fuss and that he could share in the reflected glory once the trick was performed and the full scale of Tony’s talents was known.
    But he couldn’t say it. For now he was the magician and magicians treated everyone else with disdain. That was something else Granddad had told him.
    "Remember. You are always in control. It’s your trick and no one can take it away from you." The old man had said, and Tony intended to make Granddad proud of him. He turned back to Ian and motioned to the chairs.
    "Because you are the biggest one here, and this works better with big people. So just lie down and shut up or else we’ll never get this done before the bell."
    After finally getting Ian to lie down, Tony explained to the rest what they had to do, slowly, so that he could be sure that they understood him.
    "I want you to stand, three on each side, with one finger of each hand under Ian’s body. Space yourself out, two at the legs, two at the waist and two at the shoulders. Then you’ve all got to stay quiet and try not to think of anything except my voice."
    "I’m going to say some sentences, and I want you all to repeat them after me, but changing the word ‘looks’ to the word ‘is’. When I get to the word ‘Illusion’ I want you to try lifting him, using only the tips of your fingers. Don’t try to force it - you’ll only break the spell. It only works if you listen to what I’m saying - you’ve all got to concentrate hard - OK?"
    He looked around for confirmation and most of them were nodding. All that is, except one. Tony’s heart sank when the dissenter turned to him, a big grin fixed in its usual place.
    "Ah’ve seen this yin afore. It disnae work unless everybody cheats. Is this yer big new trick? Ah’m no’ staying here fur this."
    Nick Bayliss was Tony’s rival for Isobel’s attention. Tony knew that if Nick left then the rest of them would soon follow. He was a sort of leader - the first to suggest anything which was liable to lead to trouble,