The Fairy Godmother Part 9

With a swish of her wand the Head of the Fairy Council sat us on one of the higher branches of a Christmas tree in one of many Santa’s Grottos.

“It could have been worse,” I said looking up to the Fairy at the top of the Christmas tree.

“What are our instructions?” Enid, the Head Fairy asked stiffly. “Open the envelope,” she added when I looked puzzled.

“Oh, yes,” I muttered, carefully doing as I was told, I had heard about some non too nice surprises that had come out of envelopes given to people by the Fairy Council. This one didn’t contain one. Instead there was a card.

Santa is having problems

You two have been sent to sort them

in the next 4 hours.

Do not stuff up

You are there to observe Enid

See that you do so

I showed the card to the Head Fairy.

“I like the great detail they’ve gone into, not,” said Enid.

“So what do I do?” I asked.

“Use your initiative,” Enid suggested.

“OK, but you have been warned,” I said. “Where’s Santa?” I asked the Fairy at the top of the Christmas tree.

“The elves are on strike,” she replied.

“Why?” I asked.

“Used to be the kids that came to the grotto were all sweetness and light,” she sighed.

“And they aren’t any more?” I asked.

“One of the little dears thought that Don, one of the elves, had a false nose and tried to pull it off,” the tree Fairy said.

“Painful,” I said.

“I’ll say,” she replied. “He nearly managed, it was only when the nose started to bleed that the little dear stopped and then started to scream louder than Don and he was loud enough. The elves are demanding danger money.”

“Sounds reasonable,” I replied.

“Santa thinks that too, he’d like it as well,” said the Fairy

“How come?” I asked.

“It’s been the third time today that some little dear has set fire to his beard. Santa is supposed to have a long white beard, not a short white one that is singed at the edges,” the tree Fairy replied. “He’s leading the strike.”

“Can’t the store just throw out the disruptive elements?” I asked.

“You’d think so,” the tree Fairy sighed. “Instead they have brought in another Santa and he’s got some of his old drinking friends to help usher the children round.”

“Is that working any better?” I asked.

“That all depends if you think Santa should be sober,” the tree Fairy replied.

“Of course he should be sober,” snapped the Head Fairy.

“Right,” said the tree Fairy. “And I agree with you a hundred per cent. So it isn’t working at all.”

“I think we should talk to the original Santa,” I said.

“Then you’ll find him in the basement with the elves,” said the tree Fairy. “And much luck may you have talking sense into them.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, but the fairy was sitting very still and as I looked around I could see some children looking back at me.

“Now what do I do?” I asked the Head Fairy.

“Stay still, stay absolutely still,” she muttered, trying not to open her mouth as she spoke.

“That Fairy was talking to the other Fairy,” said one little girl.

“Don’t talk nonsense,” said one of Santa’s helpers, carefully taking a swig out of a hip flask and then slipping it back into his pocket. “They aren’t real fairies, they’re just decorations.”

“If my sister says one of the Fairies was talking to the other one, that is what was happening,” the observant one’s brother said. “You should apologise for doubting her word.”

“Or else,” said the helper looking the boy in the eye and burping whiskey at him.

“You, sir, are drunk,” the boy replied.

“And you are a prat,” replied the helper. “And Santa isn’t going to see you or your sister today or any other day, he added, pushing the boy and his sister towards the exit. The little girl let out one almighty scream and soon security men were running from all corners of the store convinced that, at the very least, a murder was taking place.

The store manager also came running to see what on earth was going on. He took one look at the children, who were being comforted by their Nanny and went pale.

“You are sacked,” he told Santa’s helper. “Collect your pay at the office and don’t come back here again.”

“If you are sacking my bother,” said Santa, then he hi-cupped, almost, and the store manager wore Santa’s lunch.

“I’m sacking you as well,” the store manager added. “And I’ll be deducting the cost of cleaning this lot up from your final pay, if there’s any left, it will be transferred to your bank account.”

“So who’s going to run this piss poor excuse for a grotto?” Santa’s helper asked.

“That isn’t your problem,” said the store manager. “Your problem is getting out of here before I send for the Police.”

“Don’t worry, we’re going,” Santa’s helper replied, guiding his brother to the door. “It was a crap job anyhow.”

The store manager stood and watched as Santa and his helper went up the escalator to the ground floor.

“I think someone needs a hand,” I said.

“You were supposed to help Santa, not the the store manager,” said Enid, following as I few down to a level with the store managers head.

“I think you could do with a little help from your Fairy Godmother,” I smiled.

“They must have put something in that drink I had,” the store manager said.

“Ice cubes is a usual thing,” I said.

“I was think something more than that,” he said.

“What makes you think that?” I asked.

“I am talking to a rather odd looking fairy,” he replied. “And she’s hovering in front of my face.”

“No need to be personal,” I replied.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you,” he said. “But, I’ve been having a rather stressful day.”

“All the more reason not to offend your Fairy Godmother,” I said, deciding that perhaps it was a height problem or the flying bit that was making it difficult for him to take me seriously.

“You were six inches tall and now you are over five feet tall,” he said and started to giggle.

“You are having hysterics,” I said. “Either that or you are as drunk as Santa and his helper.”

“This is the first time I have been put in charge of anything and I am making a complete mess of it,” he sobbed. “First one Santa and his elves walk out demanding danger money, now his replacement is drunk in charge of this, so I’ve had to sack him.”

“Can you get another Santa?” I asked.

“The owner of this place is bringing his grandchildren down here in an hour, they are expecting to see Santa and his elves all looking happy and and look at it, there’s diced carrot on the floor and no one in sight,” he started sobbing again. It’s hard watching a grown man cry.

“You could try talking to the original Santa,” I suggested.

“He wont answer his phone,” he sobbed.

“He’s in stores, with the elves,” I said. “The only thing that was annoying them was that some of the kids were being stroppy.”

“But what can I do, kids aren’t as well behaved as they were when I was little, we were in awe of Santa,” he said. “And unless I can sort that one out, I stuffed.”

“I think we may need a little magic fairy dust around here to get the children into the Christmas spirit,” I said looking at Enid.

“I’ll have to talk to the Fairy Council,” she replied and vanished with a wave of her wand.

“I bet she wont get told off for doing that,” I muttered.

“What?” asked the store manager.

“Don’t worry, you aren’t the only one to have problems,” I said. “Let’s go and talk to Santa and the elves.”

“Stores?” he said.

“Lead the way,” I smiled.

The Head Fairy was waiting for us when we walked down the stairs into the storage part of the shop.

“Do we have permission to use Fairy Dust?” I asked.

“Yes,” muttered Enid.

“Have you come to negotiate?” asked Santa, Don, the head elf was standing by his side looking like he was up to hitting someone.

“I can’t offer you danger money,” said the store manager.

“Then there is no point in talking then,” snapped Don.

“What you don’t like is the children threatening you, am I right?” I asked.

“And who are you?” he asked.

“I am the store manager’s Fairy Godmother,” I replied, rising a couple of foot into the air to add weight to my pronouncement, I’d have gone higher, but the ceiling was in the way.

“Oh,” said Don.

“Can you do something to stop them threatening us?” asked Santa. “And can you do something about my beard. I’m supposed to have a white beard, not one that’s singed at the edges.”

“I have been authorised to use Fairy Dust for this job and that will ensure that anyone walking into the grotto will be filled with the true spirit of Christmas and will not abuse any of the grottos workers,” I replied.

“Will that last for the whole of the season?” Santa asked.

I looked at Enid.

“It will,” she replied. “It will also clean up any mess, which does include your beard.”

“Thanks,” said Santa. “When can we start work?”

“Now,” said the store manager.

“I’ll get to work with the Fairy Dust,” said Enid with a quick wave of her wand.

Enid and I watched the owners Grandchildren enjoy the grotto from the safety of the upper branches of the tree.

“Why don’t all the children come here, it’s so magical?” asked the youngest of the Grandchildren.

“Good question,” I said.

“Have you not looked at the people in the shop?” Enid asked. “They are all rich.”

“So?” I asked.

“It is only the children of rich people that come to this grotto,” Enid replied.

“You are right,” said the store owner. “All the children should be able to come. Change the sign,” he told the store manager. “Santa’s grotto, free to all children.”

“That’s better,” said Enid and with a flash we were back at the Fairy Council.

By Janice Nye © 2019