Professor Cloudbottle

I found some strange paw prints frozen in the frost on the grass. I'm not allowed mention the wolf in case I frighten people, so I'm definitely not attributing the paw prints to the wolf. The wife's uncle says he knew a man who left strange paw prints everywhere he went. He'd apologise for leaving the prints on a new carpet, but people would question the sincerity of his apology if his tail was wagging at the time.

My cousin Charlie had a friend called Alan, whose father owned a pub. This was the most interesting thing about Alan. It's not that he lived a boring life. He travelled a lot, he once played the part of a monk in a play and he organised a comedy night in his father's pub every Thursday, which would certainly qualify as an interesting thing about Alan, but when he told people about this they always said, "Your father owns a pub?"

Charlie was always in the pub for the comedy night. He loved stand-up comedy, but he hated stand-up comedians. He thought he could do better than them, especially the ones who performed in Alan's father's pub. Their material was terrible, Charlie thought, but they had enough experience of the stand-up circuit to know how to entertain a crowd who were more interested in getting drunk than being entertained. They knew which lines to shout (almost every line) and they knew which lines would be funnier with an F word (again, almost every line). This is why they shouted about going to the effing optician to get an effing eye test so they could get their driving effing licence. Some of them couldn't go to an optician or to a doctor without wetting themselves. "I effing wet myself. I was just thinking, 'Don't effing wet yourself', and I effing wet myself."

One of the comedians who performed in the pub was called Howard P Nothing. He didn't shout, and he didn't use too many F words. He wore a bowler hat, and he had developed a delivery that could get a warm laugh from stone cold lines like 'I spilled soup on my trousers. My girlfriend's parents were there. And her grandmother. They thought I'd wet myself, or worse'.

He got a standing ovation at the end of his act. Charlie refused to stand. He stood to go to the bar, but he thought it was obvious that his stance was in no way related to the ovation. He hated Howard P Nothing more than all of the others because he was equally as bad as them but people thought he was better. One woman said he was a genius.

Alan and Charlie went to a party later that night, and Howard was there too. He was still in his stand-up mode, wearing his bowler hat and telling his bad jokes, and making women laugh. Charlie hated the way he was able to get a sound like that out of a woman. Sounds had often been problematic for Charlie. He'd tried to learn the guitar once and he was never able to get the right sound out of it. Other people could effortlessly produce beautiful music and he could never tell what he was doing wrong. Getting the right sounds out of women proved to be difficult as well. Some men could play them so effortlessly, producing beautiful music. Comedians were always brilliant instrumentalists, and Charlie hated them for this. If another man seduced a beautiful woman with charm, Charlie would take his hat off to him, if he had a hat. He'd buy a hat just to take it off to show his appreciation. But there was something wrong with the way a comedian could seduce a beautiful woman with punch lines like 'I didn't think it was humanly possible, but I effing wet myself again'.

"How can people laugh at that eejit?" Charlie said to Alan. "I've been to funnier funerals."

"So have I, but that's not to say he isn't funny. My grandfather's funeral was hilarious. If it was on TV, they'd have had to put it on after nine o' clock at night."

"He was over-reaching himself when he changed his surname to 'Nothing'."

"Stand-up comedy isn't as easy as it looks."

"If it was as easy as Howard P Nothing makes it look, even people in a coma would be having a go at it. I have all the attributes needed to be a good stand-up comic. I'm not in a coma, and I can tie my own shoe laces without starting a fire."

"There's more to it than that."

"I know there is. I've been studying all the comedians you've booked. There are a few little tricks they use, and a lot of shouting and swearing. And timing. With those guys it's all about timing the F words, but I could do it without any shouting or swearing."

"That woman with the limp didn't laugh at your joke about the greyhound."

"I didn't think she'd be so sensitive about her limp."

"Not everyone would laugh at a joke about a lame, incontinent greyhound anyway."

"It's different when you're on the stage. It's all an act. Howard P Nothing would be an exception. He's just as depressing in real life as he is on the stage. But you've seen yourself -- most of them are just actors."

"If you think you're a good enough actor, I'll give you a slot next week."

"Next week is too soon."

"The week after."

"Okay then."

"I'm looking forward to this."

"So am I."

"I have a feeling that I'm going to be looking forward to it much more than you will."

"I have a feeling that as I spend time working on my act I'll start to look forward to it more and more."

"I'm looking forward to it more now than I was before you said that."

Alan smiled every time he pictured Charlie getting up on the stage. The more Charlie worked on his act, the more he dreaded it. He thought his act was hilarious, but when he imagined himself performing it in front of the audience at the pub, it just didn't sound right.

He tried to stand back and look at the situation objectively. Almost every comedian got this crowd to laugh by shouting and swearing and going for the lowest common denominator. Whereas he, with no experience, would shun all that, appealing to their intellect rather than to whatever it is that makes them laugh at a joke about a flatulent bride.

He started to panic, and he considered going for the lowest common denominator, but his parents would be there. He regretted telling them about it. They'd laugh at comedians who shouted and swore, but not if that comedian was their son. Only his mother was allowed tell stories about how he wet himself.

When Charlie was ordering a round of drinks in the pub one evening he met a woman at the bar. Her name was Karen. Alan was serving at the bar, and he told her about Charlie's gig as a stand-up comic.

When she heard the words 'stand-up comic' she smiled and her whole body language changed, as if she'd just been switched on. Charlie didn't even know there was a switch to turn women on. All along he'd been trying to play an electric guitar and he never knew you had to turn it on first.

He spoke to her for half an hour. He didn't feel a need to be funny when he was talking to her because most of the stand-up comics who performed in the pub were miserable as soon as the gig ended. She said she'd definitely go to his gig, and this added to the pressure. He'd only just found the switch to turn her on. There was a big red button in the middle of her forehead to turn her off, and he didn't think he'd be able to stop his hand reaching out and pressing it.

The pressure was too much for him. He told Alan that he couldn't go through with the gig. "It's just too soon," he said. "Admittedly, it's more difficult than I thought. I don't know if I'll ever have the nerve to go up there on my own."

"You wouldn't have to start on your own. There's a guy called Billy who lives in an apartment over the post office. He's a performance artist, and he's always asking me to give him a slot. I've been a bit reluctant because it's performance art, even though he insists he's made people of every nationality laugh. That doesn't sound very likely to me, but I'd like to give him a chance. He performs under the name 'Professor Cloudbottle'. I'll ask him if he'd be willing to put together something with you."

Billy was very keen on the idea of working with Charlie, but he wouldn't plan it in advance. "It's important that your side of the act should be improvised," he said to Charlie.

"The idea of this was to make it easier for me to go on the stage," Charlie said. "Improvising the act only makes it more difficult."

"Don't worry about it. I'll hold your hand through the whole thing. Not physically. I mean I'll guide you through it. I suppose it would be even more frightening if I actually held your hand."

"Yes."

"You don't have to worry about that. And you don't have to worry about coming up with anything yourself. All you have to do is react to my performance, and it's important that your reactions are real. It should be as new to you as it is to the audience. They'll love it. I've performed this act thousands of times all over the world, and it always goes down well."

"But is it funny?"

"I once gave a woman a hernia because she laughed so much. 'Performance art' isn't the best description of what I do. 'Comedy' would be more appropriate. It's a performance, and there's an element of art, but I only seek to entertain people."

"Okay. As long as I don't have to do anything, I'm up for it."

"The only thing you'll have to do is to introduce me at the start. You'll go on the stage first and say what a privilege it is to be here to introduce the great Professor Cloudbottle."

"Right. I think I can manage that much."

Charlie spent the next few days practising his introductory speech. The only contact he had with Billy before the performance was when they met in the kitchen behind the pub half an hour before they were due to go on-stage. Charlie went through the introduction he'd prepared and Billy said, "It'll knock 'em dead. You can't die in front of a dead audience. I need to go and get ready. I should be like the bride on my wedding day, and you're the groom. You can't see me in my dress. I won't actually be wearing a dress. Don't let the thought of me in a dress trouble you."

"It's the thought that I'm a groom to your bride that's troubling me."

"You'll be fine."

Billy left to get ready. Charlie had a drink to steady his nerves, and he'd only just finished it when Alan told him that Billy was ready. Charlie got up on the stage and he went to the microphone. He got a big round of applause. Most of the people there knew him. He got the impression that they were applauding because one of their own was about to make an idiot of himself purely for their entertainment.

When the applause died down he said, "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. And, ah, Kevin." Ninety-nine percent of the audience laughed at that. One percent told him to eff off. "It's a great privilege to be here this evening to introduce a man who has quite literally performed in many different countries." He paused, but no one laughed. "He's had academic papers published in the most respected scientific journals. He's lectured at some of the world's most prestigious universities, and his dog once ate a candle." Thankfully this pause was filled with mild laughter to acknowledge that a joke was intended. "We're very lucky to have him here this evening, so please give a warm welcome to Professor Cloudbottle."

Billy appeared on the stage. The audience were surprised when they saw the white face paint and the unitard. Charlie was shocked. This was one occasion when he wanted to shout and swear on the stage. He'd have said something along the lines of this: "He isn't a performance artist at all. He's an effing mime."

Billy's performance was one long pause and none of it was filled with laughter. Instead of trying to get out of an invisible cage, he was trying to get into the invisible cage that Charlie was stuck in. Charlie was glad that Billy was locked out, but this was the one redeeming feature of the act. The audience looked confused. Only Kevin was smiling, and Charlie knew that he was just preparing years worth of insults. Charlie couldn't see Karen at all. She had probably slipped away to avoid the embarrassment of eye contact.

Billy seemed to sense that things weren't going well. His efforts to get into the cage became increasingly half-hearted, and finally he stopped. He stood in the centre of the stage and looked down. He shuffled his feet, scratched the back of his head and said, "I just wet myself."

Everyone laughed, even Kevin. Billy drew the laugh out as far as it would go by pretending to cry. Charlie started inching towards the side of the stage and the audience laughed at that too. Billy looked over at him and nearly collapsed in fake shock. "You weren't trapped at all!" he said.

"I was just... I thought you knew."

"But now you're free! Give me a hug." Billy spread his arms.

"No thanks," Charlie said.

"Why not?"

"Because you just said you wet yourself."

"The only part of me I want to pass on to you is my joy."

Billy moved towards Charlie. Charlie made a move to run past him, but Billy blocked his path. The audience found this hilarious. It seemed as if he really was trapped this time, but he had an idea. If he could have mimed a light bulb coming on over his head he'd have done it, but instead he just mimed closing a door and locking it. Billy tried the imaginary handle, but he couldn't open the door. "Don't worry," he said. "I'll get you out. I'll break the door down."

Billy went to the other end of the stage. He turned around and ran towards Charlie, with his head down. Charlie crouched and put his hands up to protect himself, but Billy hit his head off the imaginary door before he hit Charlie. He staggered backwards and fell. His legs went up in the air and then came to rest on the stage. He lay there, completely motionless, apart from the occasional twitch of his leg. The audience were laughing, but they'd stop laughing soon, and they'd expect Charlie to do something else. He left the stage, and they found this hilarious because it looked as if he was fleeing from the scene.

Billy got to his feet and so did the audience. He dragged Charlie back on the stage so they could both bow and take the applause.

Charlie never thought he'd be shaking the hand of a mime and saying thanks for rescuing him from making a fool of himself in front of friends and family. Billy had made the audience laugh without resorting to shouting or swearing, and yes, one of the few things he said was about wetting himself, but he managed to retain his dignity, despite wearing a unitard at the time.

Charlie met Karen at the bar later that night. "You were brilliant," she said. "I was afraid you'd be just another one of those morons who tell jokes about gay horses, but that was so much better than stand-up comedy."

"There's an element of performance art to it as well."

"I never expected you to be such a good actor. The look on your face when the mime appeared was priceless."

"Yeah. I've been practising that a lot."

"It showed."

She was obviously still switched to 'on', and Charlie couldn't help smiling. There was still a good chance he'd say the wrong thing and press the 'off' button, and he'd end up unplugging her completely in his attempts to switch her back on, but he might just be okay if he let his actions do the talking, like a good mime artist. Actually, he wouldn't fare much better with actions, but if he could say and do as little as possible he'd be fine.

The moose's head over the fireplace spends most of the night watching the Winter Olympics. I think it makes him feel at home. We've had some snow here as well. It didn't stick to the ground this time. This hasn't stopped the neighbours going skiing in the fields, but the type of skiing they enjoy is really just sticking to the ground. It reduces the risk of crashing into a tree. It increases the risk of being caught by the wolf, but there's no chance of that happening. Because there is no wolf.

Valentine's Day

The roses were a welcome sight in the garden after a cold winter, but they were just there for Valentine's Day. I had to do something to get back into the wife's good books after I broke a vase she made in a pottery class. If I hadn't done it, someone else would have. Not deliberately. The vase was so fragile it couldn't have survived long in the world without being broken. Even looking at it in the wrong way would have cracked it, so it didn't stand much chance when I dropped a portable television on it. Not deliberately.

My uncle Cyril once upset his wife, Joyce, by completely failing to make any reference to Valentine's Day until the day was nearly over. That reference came when he pointed at a picture in the newspaper and he said, "Look at that eejit with the roses."

He could tell that Joyce was angry by the way she glared at him, and he felt guilty. He decided it was time he did something with his wife. As the years go by it becomes increasingly difficult to avoid this conclusion. One alternative is to do nothing, but this isn't always the best course of action, even for men who are terminally lazy. The other alternative is to do something 'about' the wife'. But Cyril wanted to do something with her, to show her that being with her was more than just a legal technicality, that he was in favour of her policies and he was willing to demonstrate his support by turning up for events and accompanying her on public outings. It was something in the form of a public outing he had in mind when he thought of something with her.

He decided to take her out to dinner. He had been to a restaurant called 'The Bucket'. It wouldn't have been appropriate for a romantic dinner in its old guise, but it had been taken over by new owners who had transformed the place. They kept the old sign, and they altered the word 'Bucket' so that it read 'Basket'. The 'The' was erased, and small words were painted in its place. You had to stand close to the sign to read the new name of the restaurant: 'Put all your eggs in one pocket and all your buttons in one Basket'.

Diners in 'The Bucket' used to get an empty plate and their food would be emptied onto it from a bucket. Sometimes they wouldn't get a plate. At least they'd get a lot of food, although some of it would escape unless it was stabbed with a fork. Sometimes they wouldn't get a fork. They'd get a stick, and they could use their knife to whittle it into a spoon, if they got a knife. The menu was written on the back of the waiter's hand. Asking to see it was offering him an invitation to hit you. It didn't matter anyway because everything looked and tasted the same after it had been left stewing in the buckets for a few hours. After the waiter brought you your food, the empty bucket would be left by the table in case your stomach decided that some of its contents didn't qualify as food. Pigs ate in the restaurant. Many people loved the place because they didn't feel a need to observe any table manners while the pigs were eating off the ground. They could even get down on the ground and eat after the pigs had eaten their fill of swill.

Cyril heard that the place was very different under the new ownership. Diners weren't expected to make their own cutlery, and dinners were always brought on plates. The pigs had gone and they'd taken their smell with them. Cyril felt that he was sending an important message to Joyce by taking her to this restaurant after the transformation rather than before. He'd show her that he had a considerate side.

Their dinner succeeded in this regard, but it failed in what Cyril considered to be the primary role of a meal: to satisfy his hunger. The quality of the food had undoubtedly improved since the days of 'The Bucket', but the quantity had diminished. Cyril didn't complain because Joyce was enjoying the evening so much. On the way home they passed an ice cream van that was parked outside a pub. The name of this mobile business was 'Two Monkeys and a Parrot'. The monkeys and the parrot were puppets. These puppets were meant to be a way to attract kids to the van to sell the ice creams and chocolate bars, but drunks coming out of the pubs got more enjoyment from the puppets than the kids did. Cyril always wondered how many people were in the van. Three hands were needed to operate the puppets, so there were at least two members of staff.

He stopped to buy an ice cream and a chocolate bar. A monkey called Bongo got the ice cream from the fridge. He was being subjected to constant abuse from the other monkey, Hilary, and from the parrot, Dolores. Occasionally Bongo got a line in, like 'I said I was sorry', or 'I was busy'.

Joyce got the impression that the hands giving life to Hilary and Dolores belonged to the same person, a woman who was also providing their voices, and that Bongo was voiced by a man who had done something to upset the woman.

"Did he forget about Valentine's Day?" Joyce said.

A man and a woman appeared at the window. "No," the man said.

"Yes," the woman said. "He completely forgot. Again."

"I said I was sorry."

"You always say you're sorry. Your cousin says he's Clint Eastwood, but he isn't."

"He's not claiming that he's the Clint Eastwood."

Joyce was in the mood to act as a peace-maker after her dinner with Cyril. "Why don't ye come back to our place for a coffee and a chat? Maybe we can pass on some of the wisdom we've acquired after a long marriage. Relationships are more important than selling ice creams to drunks coming out of pubs."

Cyril was sure he hadn't acquired any wisdom from years of marriage and the last thing he wanted to be doing was acting as a counsellor for puppeteers, but when they agreed they said they'd drive Cyril and Joyce home in the van. Cyril was much more enthusiastic about being a counsellor then. He ate ice creams and chocolate on the journey home.

The man's name was Eoin and his girlfriend was Susanne. Joyce suggested that Susanne and herself should have coffee in the kitchen while Cyril spoke to Eoin in the living room. Cyril was relieved when he realised that his client didn't feel a need to be counselled.

"We fight like this every few weeks," Eoin said. "I'll do something or forget to do something or forget I've done something and she'll get angry. I'll buy her flowers or chocolates and it'll all blow over."

"Glad to hear it," Cyril said. "Because I don't think I could have told you anything other than 'Buy her flowers or chocolates'. Or 'Take her to a restaurant.' That one worked for me."

"It's annoying when she's angry with me. I can't do anything then. I wanted to go to the bull fight tonight, but that would have upset her more."

"Bull fight?"

"They're not real bulls. It started with a pantomime horse with cardboard horns taped to its head. It wasn't much good as a sport until people realised that it was more entertaining to watch two bulls fight each other. Other animals have been added since then. You can see a giraffe fight a buffalo, or a deer versus a unicorn. It's on now in the field behind the pub where they have the mice races."

"I'd love to see that," Cyril said. "Maybe there's a way we can get out without upsetting what's-her-name."

"Susanne."

"Never forget their names. That's the one piece of wisdom I've acquired from a long marriage."

Cyril went to the kitchen and said to Joyce, "We have to go out to get something," and then he winked.

Joyce put her thumbs up. She assumed they were going to get flowers or chocolates.

Cyril enjoyed the pantomime animal fights. A zebra won the tournament, easily defeating a lion who was hindered by the fact that his rear end seemed inebriated. The first prize was a bottle of wine. The two men who made up the zebra argued about how and when they'd divide the wine. Cyril came up with a solution. He convinced Eoin to buy the wine from them. This would be his present for Susanne.

On the way home, while Cyril was eating another ice cream, he came up with an idea for 'Two Monkeys and a Parrot'. "Why don't ye stage fights between animal puppets," he said to Eoin. "It might not be as entertaining as the pantomime animals, but it could certainly attract more customers."

The wine helped Eoin get back in Susanne's good books, and she was very enthusiastic about the idea of staging fights between the puppets. Eoin was worried that she was too enthusiastic. Was he really back in her good books if she was so keen on attacking his hand with a knife-wielding squirrel?

They attracted many new customers with the staged fights between squirrels, rabbits, badgers and other animals. It helped their relationship as well. They could let out all their tension in these fights. Susanne normally won because she had more tension to let out. Kids loved the fights. It was much better than 'Punch and Judy'.

The moose's head over the fireplace has been contemplating a new painting hanging on the wall opposite the fireplace. It's an abstract piece, mostly blue paint with bits of gold and white thread. It inspired the wife's uncle to ask the question 'What is art?' and to deliver his endless lecture attempting to answer it. The question can have a different meaning for everyone, he says. Some people would find the question as offensive as 'What happened your trousers?' or 'Was that you I saw coming out of Eileen's house at three in the morning?'. Other people would find it as inoffensive as 'Do you take sugar?', and considerably less important. I normally stop paying attention at this point in the lecture. I'll only listen in again when he starts telling his story about meeting Bjorn Borg.

The Ski Ship

When I was walking around the garden I found a black button on a stone path. It must have been dropped there by a bird. I've noticed that they've been collecting buttons recently. I don't know what they're up to. After months of collecting parts from clocks last summer, they unveiled a machine for predicting the weather. They must have ruined hundreds of clocks, but this destruction served an important purpose. The weather machine isn't always accurate, but it's operation provides an amazing spectacle. Thousands of cogwheels move at once. Brass pistons move wings made of white silk. It's difficult to know what the birds were trying to achieve with these wings, which seemingly serve no purpose. Some people have said that the birds are using the wings to make a statement. Many interpretations of this statement have been put forward, and it's proved to be a source of much debate in the pubs. Other people have claimed that this weather machine is really a way of instigating weather systems rather than predicting them, and that the wings are capable of starting storms. I can't wait to see what they'll do with the buttons.

My cousin Ronan once tried a bungee jump. One of his neighbours, a man called Tim, tied a bungee cord to an old viaduct across a valley. He'd charge local people five euros to plunge towards the river below, springing back up shortly before reaching the cold water, or shortly after if he didn't like them. News of the bungee jumping spread, and people from beyond the locality came to try it.

As the bungee jumping grew in popularity, local businesses did their best to cash in on the influx of visitors. Ronan's girlfriend, Audrey, sold food at a market on Saturday mornings. She started advertising her creations as food that could be eaten while bungee jumping, something to fight hunger on the long journey to and from the river beneath the viaduct. It was meant to be an advertising gimmick, but people took it seriously. They ate her food while jumping, and they found that it greatly enhanced the experience. Her food would have greatly enhanced the experience of standing still as well, or even sitting at a table, but the jumpers never thought of this. They'd buy more of her bread or biscuits or cakes and they'd go on a bungee jump to eat the food.

Some of the regular jumpers were getting fat and Tim was making a fortune because of Audrey. He kept his money under his mattress. When he found that his nose was touching the ceiling he realised that he needed to spend some of his money if he wanted to get a good night's sleep. He decided to go on a skiing holiday. He wanted to reward Audrey for all the customers she'd sent his way, so he brought her and Ronan along with him on the trip. He paid all of their travel expenses.

They found that skiing wasn't as enjoyable as bungee jumping because they kept falling and there was no elastic to pull them back up before they hit the cold snow. They looked for other activities they could partake in on the mountainside.

They saw a ship on top of a peak. It had been adapted so that it could slide down the mountainside. The captain of this ski ship was dressed like a pirate, as were his crew. He needed another three passengers before they could make their voyage to the bottom of the slope, so Tim, Audrey and Ronan agreed to climb on board.

To set sail, the crew used oars to push the ship off the top of the peak. As soon as they began their descent, most of the passengers wished they'd stuck with skiing or snowboarding. It was a terrifying voyage. The sails were used to steer the ship around trees and rocks. The captain's manic smile suggested he was looking forward to a crash. He said, "If we hit a tree, the tree will come off worse. That's not to say we'll get out of the wreck without a scratch."

Somehow they made it to the bottom of the slope in one piece, and the passengers disembarked. The crew emerged with ropes, which they attached to the back of the ship. The captain told his passengers to start pulling the ship back up the mountainside. Most of them started laughing, but their laughter ceased when the crew drew their swords. The captain explained that if they read the small print on their tickets they'd see that pulling the ship back up the mountainside was part of the experience they had paid for, and that it might even be more enjoyable than going down the slope. It was the crew's turn to laugh then.

After pulling the ship for hours, it started to get dark. The captain instructed the crew to anchor the ship for the night. The passengers were herded back on board. They were given tins of baked beans and a tin opener for their dinner. Audrey offered to cook something more appetising, and the captain allowed her to work in the galley. She created a meal that delighted the passengers, the crew and the captain. He sent his first mate out to a shop to buy provisions so Audrey could cook breakfast, lunch and dinner on the following day.

After breakfast, she was allowed stay on board to make lunch while her fellow passengers pulled the ship up the mountain. As she was stirring her vegetable soup she got the impression that the ship was moving quicker. She looked out and she saw that many more people had joined the effort to pull the ship. They had heard about her cooking and they thought that it was worthwhile dragging a ship up a steep slope to get a free lunch made by Audrey. The smell of the soup filled them with enthusiasm.

Lunch went so well that the number of passengers doubled in the afternoon. More provisions were purchased in the shop, and Audrey had to take on assistants to help her cook enough food to feed the growing throng. With all these extra passengers they were able to get the ship to the top of the peak before darkness fell. Dinner was served shortly afterwards. The passengers were very appreciative of the food after a long day of physical labour. They felt that the food was a just reward for their endeavour, and the whole experience proved to be rewarding.

This gave Audrey and Tim an idea for how to deal with the problem of obese bungee jumpers. Instead of dragging jumpers back up to the viaduct, they'd drop them down to a boat in the river. The jumpers would have to climb back up a steep embankment, and when they got to the top they'd be rewarded with some of Audrey's coffee cake or her chocolate biscuits.

The moose's head over the fireplace looks strangely distinguished when he wears his red clown nose. I found it in a box full of clown noses in the attic. These have been there since the days when my grandfather formed a circus with some of his friends to make some extra money. His act was jumping off the roof of a house and landing in a bath full of custard. The danger increased as his act became more popular. The spectators would bring spoons with them. By the time he had climbed onto the roof they'd have eaten all of the custard.

The Beast

I've been spending more time in the garden, now that the daylight is lasting longer. I stand in the orchard and look at the sky through the bare branches of the trees. Sometimes I'll see my neighbour floating by in her hot air balloon. She'll drop a cake for me to catch. This is how she started delivering her cakes when the roads were too icy to drive on. For an annual subscription she'll deliver a cake once a week, and once every month she'll bring a hamper of jam, honey, bread and cheese. I ended up in hospital the last time I tried to catch that.

My cousin Charlie once spent a few days in the countryside to clear his mind of the stresses and strains he'd been accumulating while working in the city. He stayed in a guesthouse with a beautiful view of a valley. Mrs. Twomey, the owner of the guesthouse, showed him his room on the second floor and she pointed out all the sights he could see from his window. The nearest house was a few hundred yards away. She told him that a magician called Felix lived there.

As they were looking out the window there was an explosion in the shed behind this house, and shortly afterwards, Felix came staggering out of the shed. Charlie and Mrs. Twomey went downstairs and ran to his house.

On the way there, she told him more about Felix. Some people believed that his magical powers came from a pair of leather, fur-lined gloves. There were only two members of 'some people' and they both enjoyed the hobby of burning things made out of plastic. He once performed a trick in a house that was said to be haunted. The ghost had first been sighted over seventy years earlier, when he was seen sleeping on an armchair near the fire in what was described as a 'drunken posture'. There had been numerous sightings since then, including one in which he was blowing up a balloon. The owner of the house thought that the ghost might have inserted part of himself into the balloon, but it was impossible to say which part. The owner was afraid to burst the balloon. Someone suggested that he take it to the woods and just leave it there, but he was afraid that he'd anger the rest of the ghost. He said, "If you had to live with a one-armed man, how would you explain to him that you took his missing arm to the woods and set it free?"

When Felix was performing a card trick for a spellbound audience in a candle-lit room of this house, he stopped talking in the middle of a sentence and looked up. He said, "But I've already started."

Everyone looked up, but there was nothing there. They all assumed he was talking to the ghost. After a pause he said, "Are you sure?... Alright then. I just hope you're right."

The balloon burst shortly afterwards. Screaming ensued, and a lot of people ran from the house. Some of them wanted to burn down Felix's house, and then stand down-wind of the fire in the hope that it contained a lot of plastic.

When Charlie and Mrs. Twomey arrived at Felix's house he reassured them that he wasn't injured, but he seemed a bit dazed. His face was black with soot, and smoke was coming from his shed. He said he was working on a trick in there. He invited them into his house for a cup of tea. They accepted the invitation because they wanted to make sure he was okay.

His dining room was huge but it lacked a table. He had taken it out to make room for the audience who came to see his act every Friday evening. Shelves hid two walls of the room. They were illuminated by the windows on the other walls. Charlie was fascinated by the books on magic, the cloaks and the props, many of them antiques. Felix asked him if he'd like to take on the role of assistant for his next performance in the house on Friday evening. Mrs. Twomey was standing behind Felix. Charlie could see her waving her hands from side to side, shaking her head and mouthing the word 'no'. He wondered what was wrong with her. But he couldn't wonder for long because he had to respond to Felix. He said he'd be delighted to be the assistant. Felix said he'd be performing a trick called The Guillotine.

On their way back to the guesthouse, Mrs. Twomey told Charlie that Felix's last assistant went missing a few weeks earlier. He made her disappear for a trick, but he was supposed to make her re-appear again. This part of the trick didn't go according to plan. When he opened the wooden box in the expectation of seeing Lorraine, his assistant, there was no one there. Shortly afterwards they heard Lorraine's voice. "Where am I?" she said. Felix was unable to answer that question. The audience helped him search the entire house, but they couldn't find her, even though they could hear her voice in many rooms. Felix suggested that she had entered another dimension. She sounded perfectly content there, so no one felt a need to rescue her.

Charlie returned to Felix's house that evening and he asked about the assistant. "It was all just a trick," Felix said. "Lorraine wanted to get away for a few weeks so she could work on her novel without being interrupted. A man called Fintan has been devoting a lot of attention to her recently. He was becoming a bit of a nuisance, and he wasn't recognising any of the hints she was dropping. So we planned this trick. Fintan often calls around to hear her voice, but it's just a recording."

Felix pressed a button underneath a table and they heard a recording of Lorraine saying 'That dog looks just like the dog he's trying to hide behind'.

"She's staying in an abandoned hotel near the woods," Felix said. "Fintan wouldn't go there because it's become a sort of a commune for people who don't use hints when they want to tell you to leave them alone."

Felix took Charlie to the hotel to meet Lorraine. She was staying in a room overlooking the front garden, but she had to remove the pieces of timber covering the window if she wanted to admire the view. She told Charlie about her novel. "All of the characters are based on my toes," she said. She was wearing sandals to reveal her toes. "The big toe on my right foot is a woman who believes that in a past life she was a princess whose favourite hobby was knocking over peasants. The big toe on my left foot is a man who has attracted a large group of followers, all of them dogs. He believes that in a future life he'll be a man who believes that he was Winston Churchill in a past life. I wear sandals so I'll have a constant supply of inspiration. It's been nice to get away from Fintan for a few weeks, but there are other distractions here. I'm writing a film for the people who live in the basement here. They make their own horror films. They were working on a film about man-eating aliens when the beast re-appeared."

"The beast?" Charlie said.

"Haven't you heard of the beast?"

"I'm new to the area."

"He's been appearing on and off in this locality for hundreds of years. Many years might go by without a single sighting and then he'll be seen every night for a few months. He starts fires and he bites the branches off trees. He re-appeared two weeks ago, and he's been back every night since. He has enormous horns that look like branches. He's over eight foot tall, and his eyes are a luminous green. The basement-dwellers abandoned their film about man-eating aliens to make a film about him instead because he looks much scarier than any of their costumes. I have to write the story around what they can film of the beast at night. They're not too keen on the love story I'm writing -- they think I'm just trying to write a part for myself -- but they're very interested in the idea of a character who pushes over peasants."

Lorraine led Felix and Charlie down to the basement to meet the film-makers. A few candles provided the only illumination, but Charlie saw all the faces light up when they heard that he'd be taking part in The Guillotine trick. They asked if they could film it, and Felix said they were more than welcome. Charlie remembered their interest in filming real-life horrors like the beast, and he hoped that this was distinct from their interest in filming The Guillotine.

Felix went home but Charlie stayed with the film-makers so he could go out on their nightly expedition to film the beast. He wanted to see this creature for himself. Lorraine went with them as well.

The beast always emerged from the woods. The film crew patrolled the perimeter of the woods, and they saw him shortly before midnight. The horns on his head reflected the light of the moon. His green eyes turned in their direction, and he started walking towards them. The walk became a run, and their composure evaporated. They ran back to the old hotel. They climbed to a room in the attic, and they tried to film the beast from a window, but they couldn't see him. Charlie returned to Mrs. Twomey's guesthouse at one o' clock.

Fintan called to see him at the guesthouse on the following morning. He said he had heard that Charlie was Felix's new assistant, and he was wondering if he had seen Lorraine when he was in Felix's house. Charlie said he hadn't seen her, but he did hear her comment about the dog hiding behind another dog.

Fintan came up with various interpretations of this remark, all of them involving her desire to see him again. When he had exhausted this topic he started talking about the wildlife around the river. Charlie could understand why Lorraine would want to avoid him. He had a flair for identifying the least interesting aspects of a subject and then discussing them at length, and an inability to discern when his listeners had lost interest.

Charlie went to see Lorraine again that night for another expedition to film the beast. This time they saw the creature starting a bonfire near an old stone bridge. They were able to film him for ten minutes before he saw them and they had to flee.

A huge crowd turned up at Felix's house to see his act on Friday night. Charlie had been hoping that The Guillotine was a card trick, so he was dismayed to see an actual guillotine in the room.

Felix told the audience about how dangerous this trick was and how under no circumstances should they try it at home, assuming they had a guillotine, but he was interrupted by screams from outside. A lot of people were looking in through the windows because they couldn't fit into the room. The beast appeared at one of the windows and he roared. The audience responded with a scream.

But the beast underestimated how many people were interested in seeing Charlie risk his head. The crowd outside the window were able to overpower the beast. The screams became cheers after they had bound his hands and legs. They brought him inside and they put him into the guillotine. Some of them seemed to believe that this device really was as dangerous as Felix said it was.

They were disappointed when the beast's head fell off before the blade fell. Another much smaller head was revealed underneath the head with the horns and the green eyes. It was Fintan.

The audience were engrossed as he told his tale. He came up with his beast costume because he wanted to stop a housing estate being built near the river. He was hoping that the developers would abandon their plans because of a fear that no one would buy a house in a place frequented by a beast. When he saw Charlie and Lorraine with the film crew he thought they were up to something. He became convinced that they were having an affair because Charlie denied ever even meeting Lorraine. So Fintan came to the performance of The Guillotine to scare Charlie away, if the guillotine hadn't already done that job for him.

Just as he finished telling his tale they heard more screams from outside and another beast appeared at the window. The crowd had seen Fintan's realistic beast costume and this beast looked real in comparison. He was taller and his legs were as thick as tree trunks. The ground shook when he moved. Smoke came out of his nostrils. He let out a deafening roar and everyone outside ran away. The people in the room looked for weapons, but they didn't need to use them. The beast disappeared into the night. They heard his pounding footsteps fade to silence.

The appearance of this beast was enough to make the developers scrap their plans for the housing estate. Charlie often wondered if this beast had been Fintan's creation as well. Or perhaps it was one of Felix's tricks. One other possibility was that the beast was real.

Lorraine was enormously impressed by what Fintan had done, and she stopped trying to avoid him. She was given free rein to write the rest of the film about the beast, now that the fake beast had been officially hired as an actor. Fintan excelled in the role. The basement-dwellers gave in to Lorraine's demands to include a love story. She played the part of the beast's love interest. She acted in many more films for the basement-dwellers, and she wrote most of them. Fintan became their costume-designer.

The moose's head over the fireplace was once the assistant in a magic act. He wore a top hat. When the magician lifted the hat, there was a white rabbit on the moose's head. It was meant to be a card trick. The moose liked the feeling of the rabbit on his head, and the rabbit seemed to enjoy being there as well. Whenever the wife's niece brings her pet rabbit, she always puts him on the moose's head. They'll happily spend an afternoon in each other's company.