The Fairy Godmother Part 31

“Don’t think for one moment that you’ve won,” said a voice in my ear.

“What I muttered,” instantly awake, I leapt to my feet looking round for the person who had spoken.

“What is it?” asked Enid, yawning loudly.

“I heard a voice,” I said.

“Who?” Enid asked.

I paused for a moment to think.

“It sounded like the Head of the Fairy Council,” I said slowly.

“She has not moved from the waiting room,” said the footman, he was presumably coming to see what the noise was all about.

“I think you aught to check up on her,” said Enid.

“Of course,” said the footman bowing slightly to Enid and heading off to do that. I followed him, though I can’t say why.

“I think you should stay out here,” said the footman, pausing at the door.

“Why?” I asked, though I suspected something had happened to the Head of the Fairy Council.

“It may effect the Council’s judgement if they think you tried to influence the Head of the Fairy Council.

“I hadn’t thought of that,” I said, backing off.

The footman opened the door, walked in and then closed it after himself.

“There is something not right about this,” I said to Enid.

“It was probably nothing, just a dream,” Enid said, but the look on her face said otherwise.

“Fairies don’t dream,” I said absently repeating something we had been taught at the Fairy Godmother college. “Human’s dream, but Fairies don’t.”

“Trust you to remember that one,” muttered Enid as the Footman walked out of the waiting room.

“She’s dead!” he said.

“What do you mean, she’s dead?” asked Enid, pushing past him into the room, I followed before anyone could think to ask anything.

“Oh my God!” said Enid looking upwards. I followed her gaze and saw the Head of the Fairy Council hanging from the chandelier, a glittery rope tied tightly round her neck.

“But she can fly!” I said, the words escaping before I could work out what they where.

“Yes, it must have been how she got up there,” said Enid.

“She might be able to fly, but I can’t,” said the Footman.

“Of course not,” said Enid, looking puzzled by the comment.

“How am I going to get her down?” he said.

“I’ll go,” I said, heading for the ceiling before anyone could say anything.

“I shall tell the Council,” said the Footman.

“Shouldn’t you wait to make sure that she’s dead?” asked Enid.

“I don’t think there is any doubt about that,” said the Footman sadly.

I nearly bumped into the ceiling, I had got there quicker than expected. Somehow, seeing her up close didn’t make things any better. The inner glow, was fading, as was everything about her. I untied the rope from the chandelier and for a moment, I had her, dangling from my hand. Then I took hold of her and flew slowly down to the floor, resting her body on the sofa.

“I know that humans do this sort of thing, sometimes,” I stuttered. “But I didn’t think it was possible for a fairy.”

“They have to be very determined,” said Enid.

“What is all this nonsense,” said Rosemary walking in through the waiting room door. “You two should not be in here, it is most irregular, you do realise it could effect the council decision.”

“I don’t think that is going to have much baring on anything,” said Enid standing aside to let Rosemary see the Head of the Council.

“What’s that rope doing around her neck,” said Rosemary shaking the Head of the Fairy Council in an attempt to wake her up. “Why is she so cold?”

“She’s dead,” said Enid.

“But that can’t be,” said Rosemary, shaking the body even more.

“Could you call for the Doctor?” said another of the Councillors as she guided Rosemary away from the dead fairy.

“I think the Head of the Fairy Council is a bit beyond any help a doctor can provide,” said Enid.

“I meant for Rosemary,” she said.

“Fairies don’t die,” Rosemary said. “Not like this,” she added sobbing loudly.

“Get that Doctor quickly,” hissed the Councillor.

“Of course,” said Enid, dashing away.

Soon there was just me and the body of the Head of the Fairy Council in the waiting room.

“You spoke to me,” I said, looking at her. “You spoke to me as or just after you died.”

“Fairies don’t die,” I heard the Doctor saying as the door opened and he walked in. “They may grow old and fade away, but they don’t die.”

I stepped away from the sofa and he walked over to examine her.

“Except this one has and by her own hand,” he said picking up the rope. “What do you expect me to do, I deal with the living?”

“Rosemary, one of the Council members is in the Council room, she didn’t take this discovery well,” said Enid.

“Then I’d better go and see to her,” he said snapping his bag shut. “I don’t know why you bothered to bring me in here when there was clearly nothing I could do.”

“We might have been wrong,” I said. “She might not have been dead.”

“Highly unlikely,” said the Doctor. “If she hadn’t been dead she wouldn’t have left that thing round her neck, total colour clash.”

“Never did think much of his bedside manner,” said Enid as the door closed.

“What do we do?” I asked, looking from the body back to Enid.

“Old fairies don’t die they just fade away,” said Enid. “So I suppose that’s what she’ll do.”

“So do we just sit here till she fades away?” I asked.

“It’s the only thing I can think of,” said Enid. “I wouldn’t want her to be alone whilst it happens.”

“What was her name?” I asked, sitting down on a nearby chair.

“Lily,” Enid replied. “I always thought she got the better of the names.”

“How do you mean?” I asked.

“Enid, it’s not exactly a name I would have chosen,” she said. “I always thought Lily was much better, but Mum had two names in mind and I drew the short straw.”

“You were sisters?” I asked.

“Couldn’t you see the family resemblance?” she asked.

“No,” I said. “But then I wasn’t looking for any.”

“Mum always said we looked in two different directions,” she sighed. “Don’t know what she meant by that. I do know that she would never have wanted her to do this!”

“I don’t understand why she did,” I said as the body began to fade out.

“She knew what she’d done,” said Enid. “It must have gone deeper than even I thought, because what I found wouldn’t have been enough for her to do this.”

“Do you think we’ll ever find out how far it went?” I asked.

“There will have been evidence on her computer,” said Enid thoughtfully. “Hopefully she didn’t wipe the memory before she did this.”

“We’ll need to get Ethel to go though it,” I said.

Lily’s legs had faded away and her shoes had flopped down, her hands where turning translucent, the rings no longer had fingers in them.

“She always like rings,” said Enid watching as some of them fell to the floor. With a sigh her clothes fell empty and her hat fell off the sofa.

“She’s gone,” Enid sighed. “I’d better contact Mum.”

“She’s still alive?” I said without thinking.

“We’re not that old,” Enid snapped.

“I’ll go talk to Ethel,” I said, quickly, I thought she might need time by herself. To be honest, I couldn’t think of what to say.

By Janice Nye © 2020