‘Happy birthday, love.’

Paula’s parents looked on as she peeled back the wrapping paper. The large red box had Magic Tricks written on it in large yellow letters.

‘I love it.’ she beamed, tears in her eyes.

The eight year old gently lifted the lid and gasped as she studied the contents. The magic set looked new and yet had an old-fashioned, antiquated feel to it. She reached in and pulled out the leather bound book. It looked like something from a film about a boy wizard. Paula flicked through the pages. The book contained instructions for each trick and had ornate hand-drawn illustrations.

‘It’s like a recipe book for magic.’

She hugged them both tightly and thanked them over and over.

‘What time is everyone coming over?’

‘About five-ish.’

Paula got to her feet. She carefully picked up the box.

‘I will be in my room until then.’

Paula marched purposefully to the door.

‘Enjoy.’ Her parents laughed.

Her family made a fuss of her. The whole room was packed with grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. They all wished her happy birthday and presented her with gifts. They munched on buffet food from paper plates and guzzled all kinds of drinks. One uncle was soon slumped on a sofa snoring, having had one drink too many.

A lot of her relatives asked if she’d received anything nice for her birthday. Paula was barely able to contain her self as she explained about the magic set. When they told her that she would be the next Paul Daniels she simply smiled. She said nothing, and didn’t tell them that she had no idea who that was.

Over the next few weeks Paula spent every free moment in her room practising. When her parents asked how she was getting on with the tricks she would reply that she was getting there.

One morning she came downstairs to her parents in the kitchen. She proudly approached the breakfast table, holding a pack of playing cards. She fanned them out with a professional flourish.

‘Pick a card, dad.’

Her father smiled as he pulled a card from the pack.

‘Show mum your card, but not me.’

He turned the card to show his wife. She shot him a look that told him, whatever card you’re given, tell Paula it is your card. He gave her slight nod. Paula asked her mother to cut the pack. She picked up the top half of the pack. Paula then took the deck of cards and shuffled them. She then tapped on the top of the pack with her magic wand. Paula then peeled off the top card and held it out.

‘Is this your card?’

‘Yes,’ he laughed in shock. ‘It really is.’

When her grandparents came over for tea the following week Paula performed all kinds of coin tricks. She made coins disappear and reappear, would bend them in half, even managed to make a fifty pence piece appear in a sealed glass jar.

Her grandfather whispered to her parents.

‘She is really good, isn’t she?’

They both agreed.

‘How does she do it?’

‘I have no idea. When we ask she simply tells us a magician never reveals her secrets.’

One Saturday evening she picked up her father’s empty beer glass. She placed a shiny handkerchief over the glass. She tapped it with her magic wand. She then yanked the handkerchief away. Her dad was shocked to see the glass had been refilled.

‘Here you go.’

He took a sip. It was cold, crisp lager.

‘How did you do that?’

Paula aimed the wand playfully at him.

‘It’s magic.’

‘What do your friends in your class think about your tricks?’

‘Everyone thinks it’s cool, apart from one girl who says it’s stupid.’

‘Who says that?’

‘Hannah, but she says everything is stupid.’

Her father looked troubled.

‘Does she give you a hard time?’

‘She’s like that with everybody.’

While Paula shuffled her pack of cards for the next trick, her dad wondered just how bad things were. He had a feeling that this Hannah was worse than Paula was making out.

One rainy Tuesday afternoon they arrived home from school. Her mother rummaged in her handbag for her house keys.

‘They must be here somewhere.’

She swirled the contents around, tutting to herself about being locked out. Paula pulled out her magic wand from her schoolbag.

‘It’s alright, mum, I’ll sort it.’

‘Thanks, love, but I don’t think that will work.’

Paula swung her wand towards the locked door. She threw her arm out like a fisherman casting a line. There was a wild gust of wind, and then a clicking sound,. The front door swung gently open.

‘How did you do that?’

Paula proudly waved her wand. Out of the rain and in the cosy hallway, she told her mum to cup her hands together. Her mother cupped her hands as though she had captured a spider. Paula shot the wand at the closed hands. There was a rattling noise. Her mother opened her hands to see her missing set of house keys.

Paula came rushing out of the school gates, excitedly clutching a letter.

‘There’s going to be a school talent show.’ Paula told her mother.

‘What are you going to do? Any ideas?’

‘My magic tricks, of course. It is going to be spectacular.’

In the weeks that followed the school playground, corridors and any other free space, resembled the queues for the auditions for Britain’s Got Talent. Some pupils practised songs, others went over comedy sketches, others rehearsed dance routines or played tin whistles. One boy spent every break time Moonwalking along the corridors. Paula went through her range of magic tricks with even more enthusiasm.

Finally the day of the talent show arrived. Her father poked his head around her bedroom door. Paula was packing her magic props and accessories into a small case.

‘Are you running away?’

‘It’s show time, dad.’

‘Good luck, Pauls.’

Paula waited backstage. A lot of the other children were nervous. They chewed on fingernails or fidgeted anxiously. One little girl in a ballet tutu was a worrying shade of green. Paula kept herself busy by shuffling her pack of cards over and over. She flicked out her fingers, handling the cards like a croupier in a Las Vegas casino.

A group of children were on stage playing ukuleles. They strummed away furiously and belted out Bring Me Sunshine with such cheeriness. The audience of parents and staff members sang and clapped along.

Then it was Paula’s turn. She picked up her brief case with the focus of a businessman about to pitch to a massive client, and marched on stage.

She placed the case down at her feet. Paula warmed up the crowd with a few card and rope tricks. Everyone clapped as she picked out the correct card, and made the severed rope ends reconnect once again.

She then asked the headmaster for a note from his wallet. The head, a well-spoken man called Mr Deegan, smiled warmly as he handed over a twenty pound note from his wallet. Paula thanked him and returned to the middle of the stage. She waved the pound note dramatically from side to side so that the entire crowd could see. She smiled as she heard someone say ‘She’s very good, isn’t she?’.

Paula then tore the note in half. Everyone erupted into fits of laughter. The headmaster smiled as she tore the pieces in tow again. She tore the note up over and over again, into smaller and smaller pieces. She kept going until it was little more than confetti. She tucked the pieces into her hand and made a tight fist. She held her fist out in front of her like a boxer at a weigh in. She took out her wand and lightly tapped it on her fist.

She then unfolded the note. There it was, in tact once again. The crowd clapped. She gave a small bow, and skipped over to give he headmaster back his money. He laughed and made a dramatic show of inspecting the note, holding it up to the light.

The audience waited, what would this special little girl do next?

‘For my last trick,’ Paula called. ‘I am going to need a volunteer.’

The pupils sitting in the audience stretched and put up their hands, eager to be chosen.

‘I will do it!’ Hannah yelled.

‘Yes, of course.’

Hannah pushed her fellow pupils, her classroom victims, out of the way as she barged towards the stage.

‘Well? What now?’

‘Please stand there, yes, just there.’

Paula turned to the audience.

‘I am going to make her disappear.’ Paula declared.

She reached into her briefcase and produced a black silk hooded dressing gown. She offered Hannah the robe.

‘If you wouldn’t mind?’

Hannah shrugged and snatched the dressing gown. She pulled it over her shoulders. The dressing gown was too big and it dragged onto the floor at her feet. Hannah fastened the gown around her waist.

‘And the hood?’

Hannah pulled the hood down. The robe resembled something a monk might wear. With the hoot pulled down the school girl was now completely shrouded by the gown.

‘Now watch.’ Paula said.

She held her wand out in front of her like a swordsman. She flicked her wrist. A split-second later the gown fell to the stage, empty. Hannah was gone.

The crowd gasped before bursting into thunderous applause. Paul stood on stage smiling. She picked up the robe, folded it carefully and packed it back into the case. The crowd whopped and clapped. Paula took a bow. She grabbed the briefcase and turned to leave the stage.

‘Wait,’ called the headmaster. ‘Aren’t you going to make her reappear?’

‘No,’ Paula said. ‘She’s not coming back.’

By Chris Platt

From: United Kingdom