Archie Greene and the Magician's Secret Read Free Page B

Instruction so there’s no getting out of it. It means that whatever was in the package has to be brought on a given day …’
    ‘I thought so,’ said Gran, shaking her head. ‘And in this case, it is when?’
    Horace gulped. ‘Er … that’s the problem, you see. This Special Instruction was for today.’
    Horace glanced guiltily at the clock, which now showed just after midnight. ‘Or rather, it was for yesterday,’ he added, apologetically.
    Archie took a moment to let Horace’s words sink in. ‘So, you mean we’ve missed it by a day?’ he asked. ‘Does it matter?’
    ‘It might matter a lot,’ Gran said, gravely.
    Horace looked at the two worried faces in front of him. ‘There’s just one other thing,’ he said. ‘You didn’t open it, did you … ?’

6
The Aisle of White
    A rchie caught a bus to Oxford to find the Aisle of White. Gran had packed him off early that morning with a flask of tea and a bacon sandwich. She’d also given him a bag of clothes and suggested he might want to stay with his newfound cousins. Archie had been surprised that his usually cautious grandmother was sending him off on his own, but she had just told him that she ‘couldn’t wrap him up in cottonwool forever’.
    ‘And besides,’ she’d added, planting a peck on his cheek, ‘there’s something I need to take care of and it will be easier without you under my feet. Now off you go … and remember your manners.’
    Gran seemed to know the Aisle of White bookshop well and had given him directions, along with the Foxes’ address and a letter of introductionfor his aunt. She’d also told him a bit about his cousins – unusual names, she said. Archie wished he could remember what they were. They sounded like something from the woods – Hedge and Ditch or something like that. Archie had wanted to ask more questions but there hadn’t been time.
    It was just after noon when Archie arrived. Compared with West Wittering, Oxford felt big and full of importance. There were lots of people on bicycles whizzing around in a hurry. He walked down the high street and turned left into a large cobbled square. His directions said the Aisle of White was across the square and down some narrow lanes.
    He found the old bookshop in a small courtyard, wedged between a shop selling crystals and one that hired out fancy dress costumes. It was much smaller and shabbier than either of its two neighbours.
    Above the green front door, in faded white and gold paint, a sign read ‘The Aisle of White: Purveyor of Rare Books. Proprietor: Geoffrey Screech.’ Archie felt a tingle of excitement. This was definitely the place! Another sign in the shop window, written in a spidery hand, declared: ‘We Buy Rare Books. Enquire Within.’
    Encouraged, Archie pushed on the green door. As it opened an old-fashioned bell clanged loudly,announcing his arrival. He felt as though he was stepping back in time. The shop was bigger on the inside than it appeared on the outside, but it was by no means large. Dark wooden bookcases stood in columns dividing the shop into a series of passages.
    Archie couldn’t imagine many people being interested in old books, so he was surprised to find three other customers queuing in front of him – a man, a woman and a girl about his own age.
    The shopkeeper facing them from behind a counter was a short, rather plump woman, deep in conversation with the man at the front of the queue. The shopkeeper regarded the man, who was tall and stooped, through a pair of spectacles with lenses as thick as the bottom of beer bottles. They seemed to be having a disagreement.
    The woman in the queue was fussing around the girl at her side and Archie thought from the way they were behaving that they must be mother and daughter. Not having a mother of his own, Archie tended to notice such things. The mother was tall, with jet-black hair underneath a wide-brimmed hat. The girl wore an expensive-looking green waxed-cotton coat that came to