LITMIR.BIZ

      “Keith’s been helping us out too and we’ve come up with some great ideas,” Esmé continued.

      “Keith… hmm, interesting,” Mr Portobello mused, stroking his chin while staring hard at Keith. He turned to Esmé. “And are you his delightful young assistant?”

      “No, I am, Mr Portobello,” said Monty, a little annoyed.

      “Wonderful!” replied the businessman, looking him up and down. “Nice swimming costume.”

      Mr Portobello walked up to the ladder and leant heavily upon it with a shiny elbow. “I love a magic show,” he said. “I’ve seen all the greats – Mark Daniels, Terry Cooper, Ray Preston. Love ’em all. And I can see you’re doing something really special here, in the great tradition of… um…”

      “Houdini? Ali Bongo? Dante the Magician – Sim Sala Bim?” asked Potty.

      “Bless you! Ha ha ha!” replied Mr Portobello, laughing loudly at his own joke. “Anyway, you’re doing a great job, kids. I know that this show is going to be incomprehensible!”

      Esmé wondered if he had meant to say ‘incredible’. Looking around, everyone else was still smiling at Mr Portobello, each with a slightly glazed look in their eyes.

      “And if the show is any good,” boomed the businessman, “I’m going to buy this theatre for lots of money, renovate it and turn it into a fantastic venue that the Queen and Pete Middleton can enjoy.”

      “We’re so glad you’re behind the show,” said Twinkle, simpering slightly. Esmé could tell how desperate she was to sell the theatre.

      “Oh, I am,” oozed Mr Portobello. “And now Keith has workshop space over at Crab Pie Island, where I live. He can see to your props there, when things are not exploding…”

      “That was just a minor glitch, Mr Portobello,” Keith reassured him. “I was having problems with the pincer… it’s all sorted now.”

      Esmé realised that must have been the first explosion they had heard this morning.

      “Good, good,” said Mr Portobello. “And I simply insist you use the space there to construct your gadgets for Potty. It’s the least I can do. That way I can keep an eye… I mean, help you,” said Mr Portobello, correcting himself quickly.

      But Esmé had heard the slip up, and didn’t like the sound of it. Why does Mr Portobello want to keep an eye on Keith? she wondered.

      Potty, however, seemed completely oblivious to the comment. “What a wonderful setting it must be, Keith,” he said. “Your workshop must be an idyll in an otherwise crazy world. To turn your dreams into reality… To create and create and create!”

      “You’ll have to visit some day,” said Mr Portobello. “See my collection of luxury boats.”

      “Yes, please,” said Monty, who had caught some of Potty’s enthusiasm.

      “And of course,” added Mr Portobello, “you can see some of Keith’s incomprehensible creations.”

      Just then a mobile phone rang.

      “Ah, David,” shouted Mr Portobello into his device. “Yes. Yes, I’ve heard. Oh, straight away. Hm. All right, see you in a minute.” He put the phone back in his pocket and sighed.

      “Right, I must be off,” he announced abruptly. “I have a meeting with my accountant. See you all soon.”