Albion – Claridges Hotel – London as neatly as he could before placing the card in his inside pocket. He was waiting to be seen by Mister Luger at any moment.
That moment had come and gone several times as Mariah had paced the floor outside the room and looked out of the window to the busy marketplace that by day sprang up outside the hotel. He had watched the coming and going of several fine carriages, dropping their elegant guests who were swarmed upon by wasp-like porters in blue suits and yellow braid. They gathered up the suitcases and breezed in and out of the hotel through its grand, oversized revolving door that hissed like a snake as it went around.
Mariah had watched as fine gentlemen walked the wide sweeping staircase to the gaming room on the first floor, their ladies banished to look at views of the endless sea from the glass-topped veranda. No one paid notice to him as he sat waiting patiently, hoping that the muffled conversation inside would soon be over and he would be admitted to Mister Luger’s sanctuary.
‘Mariah Mundi,’ Bizmillah said as he stepped from the door, breaking his dream. Mariah sat upright and stared at the man. He was aghast at his China suit with its green embossed dragons and thick gold thread. Bizmillah the Great looked as if he was Italian. His sun-warmed skin and dark hair spiralled in eccentric wisps around his ears and to his shoulders. ‘Mister Luger will see you now, and later I will teach you how to be a magician …’
Mariah smiled, stood up, turned and walked into the room.Luger sat at his cluttered desk pretending to write on a piece of paper, his pen going over the same three words. He never spoke; Mariah waited and waited, watching him trace the words again and again. From where he was standing, he couldn’t make out what was being written and rewritten, but Luger made him wait until the last morsel of ink had dried from the tip of his old quill pen.
‘Sit!’ he shouted, his eyes fixed on the piece of paper as he read the words to himself. ‘I am a busy man and not one to be kept waiting. I said first thing this morning and now it’s after midday. What’s your excuse?’
‘I was outside,’ Mariah said quietly. ‘It must have been …’
Luger shook his head and looked at the clock and then at Mariah. He pulled a large gold fob watch from his waistcoat pocket and held it to his ear as if he checked to see if it was still working. He raised both his sprouting, grey eyebrows, a look of puzzlement crossing his face. ‘Waiting for me?’ he asked unsure of himself. ‘Outside?’
Mariah nodded and bit his lip, trying to keep a straight face and swallow the giggle that welled up inside him. ‘Sacha said that you were busy, so I waited.’
‘Waited!’ shouted Luger as he got from his seat. ‘Do you know what happens to the man who waits?’ Mariah was silent. ‘Nothing – that’s what happens, nothing. Life charges by and they wake up one morning and their life is over, that’s what happens if you wait.’
‘Sorry,’ Mariah said softly as Luger began to pace about the room looking to the floor and pummelling his fist into his hand. ‘I won’t wait again.’
‘Time waits for no one. Already the morning has gone, soon it will be the afternoon and that will die and become the evening and you know what comes then don’t you?’ he spoke frantically not giving a chance for Mariah to speak. ‘The night … dark and cold and miserable. Filthy thick, black night. And I lay a wager that you expect to sleep?’
Mariah nodded hopefully.
‘And you know what happens when people sleep? They DIE – that’s what happens. I’ve seen it a thousand times, old men get into bed, close their eyes and then they are gone. One snort and all the life vanishes. So what’s the answer, boy?’
Mariah stared back vaguely, mumbling under his breath, not knowing what to say as Luger waved his arms erratically, clutching the fob watch in his hand, the chain
That moment had come and gone several times as Mariah had paced the floor outside the room and looked out of the window to the busy marketplace that by day sprang up outside the hotel. He had watched the coming and going of several fine carriages, dropping their elegant guests who were swarmed upon by wasp-like porters in blue suits and yellow braid. They gathered up the suitcases and breezed in and out of the hotel through its grand, oversized revolving door that hissed like a snake as it went around.
Mariah had watched as fine gentlemen walked the wide sweeping staircase to the gaming room on the first floor, their ladies banished to look at views of the endless sea from the glass-topped veranda. No one paid notice to him as he sat waiting patiently, hoping that the muffled conversation inside would soon be over and he would be admitted to Mister Luger’s sanctuary.
‘Mariah Mundi,’ Bizmillah said as he stepped from the door, breaking his dream. Mariah sat upright and stared at the man. He was aghast at his China suit with its green embossed dragons and thick gold thread. Bizmillah the Great looked as if he was Italian. His sun-warmed skin and dark hair spiralled in eccentric wisps around his ears and to his shoulders. ‘Mister Luger will see you now, and later I will teach you how to be a magician …’
Mariah smiled, stood up, turned and walked into the room.Luger sat at his cluttered desk pretending to write on a piece of paper, his pen going over the same three words. He never spoke; Mariah waited and waited, watching him trace the words again and again. From where he was standing, he couldn’t make out what was being written and rewritten, but Luger made him wait until the last morsel of ink had dried from the tip of his old quill pen.
‘Sit!’ he shouted, his eyes fixed on the piece of paper as he read the words to himself. ‘I am a busy man and not one to be kept waiting. I said first thing this morning and now it’s after midday. What’s your excuse?’
‘I was outside,’ Mariah said quietly. ‘It must have been …’
Luger shook his head and looked at the clock and then at Mariah. He pulled a large gold fob watch from his waistcoat pocket and held it to his ear as if he checked to see if it was still working. He raised both his sprouting, grey eyebrows, a look of puzzlement crossing his face. ‘Waiting for me?’ he asked unsure of himself. ‘Outside?’
Mariah nodded and bit his lip, trying to keep a straight face and swallow the giggle that welled up inside him. ‘Sacha said that you were busy, so I waited.’
‘Waited!’ shouted Luger as he got from his seat. ‘Do you know what happens to the man who waits?’ Mariah was silent. ‘Nothing – that’s what happens, nothing. Life charges by and they wake up one morning and their life is over, that’s what happens if you wait.’
‘Sorry,’ Mariah said softly as Luger began to pace about the room looking to the floor and pummelling his fist into his hand. ‘I won’t wait again.’
‘Time waits for no one. Already the morning has gone, soon it will be the afternoon and that will die and become the evening and you know what comes then don’t you?’ he spoke frantically not giving a chance for Mariah to speak. ‘The night … dark and cold and miserable. Filthy thick, black night. And I lay a wager that you expect to sleep?’
Mariah nodded hopefully.
‘And you know what happens when people sleep? They DIE – that’s what happens. I’ve seen it a thousand times, old men get into bed, close their eyes and then they are gone. One snort and all the life vanishes. So what’s the answer, boy?’
Mariah stared back vaguely, mumbling under his breath, not knowing what to say as Luger waved his arms erratically, clutching the fob watch in his hand, the chain
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