Read Online The Darke Chronicles by David Stuart Davies - Free Book Online
Authors: David Stuart Davies
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her off to the bar, where he plied her with champagne to keep her spirits from flagging. They had just returned to their box when the lights began to dim for the commencement of the second half of the show.
‘If you’ll excuse me for a moment,’ said Darke as Carla settled down in her seat. ‘I’ll be back shortly.’ Before she could respond, he had slipped through the door and was gone. Carla was used to Darke’s odd behaviour but this seemed very strange indeed. Why on earth should he choose to disappear at this moment minutesbefore Merlin the Magnificent was due to make his entrance? He was the reason they had come to the show in the first place. Carla gave a gentle shrug, sat back in her seat and turned her attention to the stage. The small orchestra had just finished wading through the turgid overture heralding the second half of the performance. There was a small ripple of applause and then the curtain rose. To Carla’s dismay, the two singers from the first half, a very mature husband and wife duo, reappeared to regale the audience with more of their unattractive warbling. In the first half, Darke had observed that they looked as though they had escaped from some embalming room in a nearby hospital. Carla could not help but agree with him.
After three rather painful renditions of what they referred to as ‘popular ballads’ – a definition Carla did not recognise – they took their final bow. Carla found herself giving an audible sigh of relief as they wandered into the wings. It was only then that she realised that Luther had not returned. She wouldn’t put it past him to have sought refuge in the bar to avoid this tortuous mangling of the supposedly ‘popular ballads’.
The master of ceremonies now took to the stage to introduce the top of the bill, the main attraction.
‘We are pleased, proud, privileged and puffing out our chests to have secured the services for one week only of one of the greatest illusionists in the known world,’ he bellowed with manufactured theatrical pride. ‘These will be his only appearances in this country.’
This brought an enthusiastic response from the audience.
‘He will baffle you. He will astound you. He will amaze you. And he will confound you.’
More enthusiastic response.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, all the way from the mystic East, I give you Merlin the Magnificent!’
There was a dramatic roll of drums and a crash of cymbals as two stagehands manoeuvred an enormous silver ball on to the centre of the stage. Carla, surprised at the non-appearance of hercompanion, nevertheless leaned forward in her seat in order to get a better view of the proceedings. If Luther was going to miss the performance, she was going to savour all this fellow’s illusions.
Now a hush had fallen over the audience as the lights dimmed, the silver ball glimmering ghostlike in the gloom. Suddenly there was a burst of flame and the ball seemed to explode. There was another crash of cymbals and the lights came up. The ball had indeed disappeared and in its place stood a tall, good-looking man with dark skin, dressed in an immaculate evening suit. His handsome face beamed out at the audience beneath a luxurious white silk turban. This was Merlin the Magnificent.
Carla stared intently at this charismatic figure and her mouth opened in an expression of shock and amazement, which quickly transmuted itself into one of great amusement. The figure on the stage, his face caked in dark greasepaint to give it an oriental complexion and sporting a thin moustache, was none other than Luther Darke. So, she thought, that’s why he had been so eager for her to accompany him to the theatre that evening. He had wanted her to see him perform his tricks in front of a full house. She had seen him execute some sleight of hand magic business with cards and small objects at various soirées they had attended, but she had no idea that he had been working on anything as dramatic or spectacular as a stage
‘If you’ll excuse me for a moment,’ said Darke as Carla settled down in her seat. ‘I’ll be back shortly.’ Before she could respond, he had slipped through the door and was gone. Carla was used to Darke’s odd behaviour but this seemed very strange indeed. Why on earth should he choose to disappear at this moment minutesbefore Merlin the Magnificent was due to make his entrance? He was the reason they had come to the show in the first place. Carla gave a gentle shrug, sat back in her seat and turned her attention to the stage. The small orchestra had just finished wading through the turgid overture heralding the second half of the performance. There was a small ripple of applause and then the curtain rose. To Carla’s dismay, the two singers from the first half, a very mature husband and wife duo, reappeared to regale the audience with more of their unattractive warbling. In the first half, Darke had observed that they looked as though they had escaped from some embalming room in a nearby hospital. Carla could not help but agree with him.
After three rather painful renditions of what they referred to as ‘popular ballads’ – a definition Carla did not recognise – they took their final bow. Carla found herself giving an audible sigh of relief as they wandered into the wings. It was only then that she realised that Luther had not returned. She wouldn’t put it past him to have sought refuge in the bar to avoid this tortuous mangling of the supposedly ‘popular ballads’.
The master of ceremonies now took to the stage to introduce the top of the bill, the main attraction.
‘We are pleased, proud, privileged and puffing out our chests to have secured the services for one week only of one of the greatest illusionists in the known world,’ he bellowed with manufactured theatrical pride. ‘These will be his only appearances in this country.’
This brought an enthusiastic response from the audience.
‘He will baffle you. He will astound you. He will amaze you. And he will confound you.’
More enthusiastic response.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, all the way from the mystic East, I give you Merlin the Magnificent!’
There was a dramatic roll of drums and a crash of cymbals as two stagehands manoeuvred an enormous silver ball on to the centre of the stage. Carla, surprised at the non-appearance of hercompanion, nevertheless leaned forward in her seat in order to get a better view of the proceedings. If Luther was going to miss the performance, she was going to savour all this fellow’s illusions.
Now a hush had fallen over the audience as the lights dimmed, the silver ball glimmering ghostlike in the gloom. Suddenly there was a burst of flame and the ball seemed to explode. There was another crash of cymbals and the lights came up. The ball had indeed disappeared and in its place stood a tall, good-looking man with dark skin, dressed in an immaculate evening suit. His handsome face beamed out at the audience beneath a luxurious white silk turban. This was Merlin the Magnificent.
Carla stared intently at this charismatic figure and her mouth opened in an expression of shock and amazement, which quickly transmuted itself into one of great amusement. The figure on the stage, his face caked in dark greasepaint to give it an oriental complexion and sporting a thin moustache, was none other than Luther Darke. So, she thought, that’s why he had been so eager for her to accompany him to the theatre that evening. He had wanted her to see him perform his tricks in front of a full house. She had seen him execute some sleight of hand magic business with cards and small objects at various soirées they had attended, but she had no idea that he had been working on anything as dramatic or spectacular as a stage
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