The Fairy Godmother Part 63

“I am Adam,” he said. “Didn’t Enid tell you anything about me?”

“It’s taken her long enough for her to admit to being my Mother,” I said.

“I am an Artist,” he said.

“Adam,” I said, the name rolling round my head. “You aren’t the Adam who did the sculptures in the park?” I asked.

“That’s me,” he smiled. “What do you think of them or shouldn’t I ask.”

“They are,” I said and stopped because I couldn’t think of the words. “They make me stop and think.”

“That’s what they are meant to do,” he said.

“Time seems to pass rather quickly when I’m looking at them, but, they do help me put things into perspective and see through to a solution,” I said. “Sorry, I’m not good at talking about art, they seemed to miss out on that when I was at school.”

“I think you described it very well,” Adam replied. “Not so much what it looks like, but the effect it has on you. I like it. Perhaps we should talk more about art, but not now.”

“Later, perhaps,” I agreed. “At the moment I want some answers, but the questions seem to have gone out of my mind. You aren’t quite what I thought you would be, not that I had any ideas what you would be like. I’m sorry, I’m babbling. I think I didn’t really expect to see you. You’ve been a mystery for so long, someone that was never spoken about, it was like you never existed.”

“It’s OK,” he said. “I think I can probably work out what you want to know. Perhaps we should talk somewhere else,” he added. “It’s rather busy and noisy in here.”

“Yes,” I agreed and we went to the park.

“This is the first of the sculptures,” he said pointing to one which had a large hole in the middle.

“Sorry, I find this one very bleak,” I said.

“Why?” he asked.

“I feel as if there is something missing, as if it has been ripped out and this is all that’s left,” I replied. “Sorry, like I said, I don’t know anything about art, so I’m probably saying all the wrong things.”

“I created that shortly after I left Enid and she forbade me to have any further input in your life,” Adam replied. “I hadn’t realised that I’d put so much of how I felt, at the time, into my work, but you are right, there is a sense of something being ripped out of it.”

“What did you think had been ripped out of your life?” I asked cautiously, not entirely sure how I would feel about the answer to that.

“You,” he said. “Enid was so controlling, she was always telling me what to do, where to go, almost what to think. She didn’t want any of my work to have a detrimental effect on her career. It’s hard to explain, I spend ages working on a new project, she’d walk in and tear it to shreds, it would make her look bad, in the eyes of the Fairy Council, she’d never be taken seriously if I produced work like that, not that she knew anything about art.”

“There’s only so much of that you can take,” I agreed.

“She’s been like that with you?” he asked.

“She was Head of the Fairy Godmothers,” I replied.

“I heard,” he said.

“I am a Fairy Godmother,” I continued.

“Can’t be easy working under her,” Adam said.

“Everything I do is wrong,” I sighed. “Doesn’t matter what the results are, I’ve always gone about it the wrong way.”

“I only point out these things for your own good,” said Enid. “If you want to do the job to the best of your ability, you have to do things right. That statue’s a bit on the melodramatic side,” she added. “You could have done so much better, perhaps a small fountain or something.”

“It is perfect the way it is,” I snapped.

“I’m sure that’s how he’d want you to think,” said Enid. “And I suppose he’s told you some great sob story about it and you are both saying how wicked and evil I am.”

“Never allowing us any time together to talk without you interrupting us,” I added to her rant. “Then again, that bit is true, isn’t it.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” said Enid, trying to sound hurt.

“You’ve had plenty of time to talk to me, but you chose not to, now I want to talk to my Father, so I’d appreciate it if you’d just butt out,” I snapped.

“Well, if you are going to be like that,” Enid replied, giving her wand a quick wave and she was gone.

“Never could get used to that,” said Adam. “We would be in the middle of talking about something and she’d wave that wand and I’d be talking to myself, like some sort of idiot.”

“The thing I find hard to get used to is the way she just appears,” I sighed. “If I ever get married, I can picture her appearing, in the honeymoon suite, just as we are turning in for the night, with a little reminder to do something or other when I get back to work and totally destroying any romantic atmosphere.”

“That is just the sort of thing she would do,” Adam replied. “Her Mother did that after our wedding, then spent the next hour or two going through something with Enid. I don’t know what was worse, her Mother turning up or Enid not seeming to think there was anything wrong with it.”

“She is very good at steeling the limelight,” I said.

“How do you mean?” asked Adam.

“We were just starting to talk about us, how you felt when you left her, and she comes along and makes everything about her again,” I said.

“Like it or not, she’s a big part of you,” said Adam.

“And so are you,” I said. “And that is what I want to talk about now. If I want to talk about Enid I’ll talk to her, she wont answer my questions, but I’ll try. Now I want to know about you.”

“So what do you want to know?” he asked.

“How did you meet?” I said. “That would be a good starting point.”

“I was putting up an exhibition,” he smiled, thinking back to the day. “I was trying to get a statue in through a door which I hadn’t realised was too small for the task at hand. I threw something down in frustration because it was just a fraction of an inch too big and I heard an angry voice saying “Have a care, that nearly hit me!” and there she was, the most perfect creature I have ever seen hovering a couple of feet in front of me.”

“What happened?” I asked.

“I apologised profusely and explained the problem,” he said. “She said it was merely a question of scale, she shrunk the statue down by ten percent and then told it to walk to where it was being exhibited and then go back up to full size. I was totally blown away and invited her out to lunch. Things sort of moved on from there and before I knew what was happening we were having the fairy tale wedding and I was her husband.”

“And then everything went wrong,” I said.

“I tried,” he sighed. “But it was never good enough. I could list all the things that went wrong, but I don’t think it would be very constructive, I’m sure Enid would have a different take on them anyway.”

“She always does,” I said. “Violet’s Mother said you moved out and then came back.”

“Velvet, Violet’s Mother, Enid was making all sorts of threats, so I split up with Velvet and went back to Enid. It was good for all over ten hours and then she started on at me again, she decided that the best thing for our relationship would be if we had a baby for me to look after. It wasn’t anything I had been thinking about at the time, but she said that you were on the way and I was getting into the idea of it, as the months ticked on and the day approached.”

“Where you there when I was born?” I asked.

“Yes and no,” he said. “I took her to the hospital, when she went into labour, then she threw me out, said she didn’t want anything more to do with me and I was escorted out of the hospital by security.”

“Velvet said you left when I was six months old,” I said.

“She allowed me back, to take the two of you home and she let me take care of you, nothing else,” he sighed. “Then, after six months, she threw me out again and took you to the nursery and I was forbidden any contact with you, she even forbade you to have any arts lessons.”

“That would explain why I missed out on art at school,” I said.

“She may have forbidden you being taught it,” he smiled. “But it’s in your blood.”

“And this statue,” I said, looking at it.

“When I couldn’t see you, all I could do was work and this was the result,” he said. “The parks people were looking for a series of sculptures, they saw this and had to have it. I then had the job of creating the rest. I suppose I used them to get out of the black hole that loosing you dropped me down.”

“This is a lot to take in,” I said.

“It was a lot to say,” he replied. “But it’s good to see you.”

“I need to think,” I said.

“Will I see you again?” he asked, looking into the distance, past the statue.

“Do you want to?” I asked, hardly daring to breath whilst I waited for the answer.

“Very much,” he said.

“Good,” I said, breathing again. “I would love to see you lots.”

“And Enid?” he asked.

“Will have to get used to it,” I smiled.

By Janice Nye © 2020