The Fairy Godmother Part 67

There was a newsagents opposite the book shop, so I went in it to get a copy of the magazine, research on how to get to the photographer, after all, he either chose the location or was in charge of the photo shoot, he could have stopped them trashing the shop.

It was easy to spot the magazine in the newsagents, it was the brightest thing on the shelf. I picked it up and started flicking through the pages.

“Either buy it or put it back,” said a bad tempered voice at my elbow.

“Give me a minute,” I said, slightly surprised. “I’ve only just picked the thing up!”

“We only have a few copies left,” she replied. “And we have plenty of people who are more than happy to buy them without dog earring them before hand.”

Resisting the temptation to set the thing on fire first, I returned it to the shelf.

“I would hate to deprive any of your egger customers the delights of this picture book,” I said.

“We do have other magazines available,” she said.

“Anything similar?” I asked.

“There are a couple,” she said, pointing to a couple of rather dull looking magazines.

“And they cover the same sort of market?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said. “Why do you ask.”

“I’m doing research into this magazine,” I said pointing to the one I had just put back on the shelf. “One angle might be to compare it with similar magazines and ask why it out shines them.”

“It’s the photographer, he’s so good,” said the shop assistant. “He could make anyone look good in anything.”

“What about the ideas behind the photos?” I asked.

“Ideas, it’s all about fashion,” she said. “Getting people to part with their money for the latest trends.”

“Not something you’d be bothered about?” I asked.

“Do I look like I’m interested in fashion?” she asked. I glanced at her, the faded jeans which were wearing thin at the knees and fraying at the hem and the very baggy jumper that went down to just above her knees and looked like a good wash would at least remove the kitchen stains. Then there was the hair which could do with a good brushing at the very least.

“You’re more of an anti-fashion person,” I replied, hoping I didn’t offend her. There was a laugh from the back of the shop.

“If you’ve finished sweeping the floors, you can go out back and sort out the bins,” said the voice from the shadows. “I told you to wait till the shop was empty,” he added as the girl walked past him. “She wants to be a shop assistant!” he laughed. “She’d put most customers off.”

“This is the best I can do on the pittance you pay me,” she muttered, then ducked as he threw something at her.

“The other girls at least look as if they’ve washed,” he shouted at her.

“They don’t get to sort out the bins,” she said.

“That’s it,” he shouted. “Take your things and get out of here.”

“What about my wages?” she asked.

“You were paid on Saturday, you can whistle for what you’ve earned today,” he shouted. We heard the sound of the bins being kicked over and he ran into the back of the shop, but I got there first and turned the broom he’d grabbed on the way through and was about to hit her with into a feather boa. The way he dropped it gave me time to get the girl out of there before he could gather his wits together to do anything else.

“What will you do now?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” she said. “It isn’t as if I can get another job, not looking like this,” she added with a sigh.

“What sort of work would you like?” I asked.

“It’s not a question of what I would like,” she laughed. “It’s what I can get and no one is going to give me a second look.”

“Yes, well, I am your Fairy Godmother, so what would you like to do?” I asked.

“Fairy Godmother,” she laughed. “I thought they were supposed to turn you into a beautiful princess and marry you off to prince charming or something.”

“Our scope has changed somewhat since then,” I said.

“How come?” she asked.

“Princes aren’t always all that charming,” I replied, my mind wandering to the sleeping beauty. Now she was awake, she had twin sons to bring up without the help of their father who hadn’t bothered to hang around for the birth. “Any way, you still haven’t answered my question, what would you like to do?”

“At this moment, I would like to go home, have a nice hot bath and have something to eat,” she said.

“So, what’s stopping you?” I asked.

“There’s no food in the flat, the electrics been cut off and if I don’t pay the rent at the end of the week my landlord is going to throw me out,” she replied.

“Surely he can’t throw you out just because you have missed paying your rent for one week?” I asked.

“I haven’t paid for six months,” she admitted. “He gave me till Friday to find some money.”

“Couldn’t you sign on as unemployed?” I suggested.

“I could,” she agreed. “But it’s five weeks before you get any money and you have to have a bank account, which I haven’t got.”

“Shall we go back to your flat and think this through,” I suggested.

“If you don’t mind slumming it a bit,” she said.

“You’d be amazed at the places I’ve been to,” I replied, following her down a dark and narrow ally to a door in an even darker wall. We went down a flight of rather slippery stairs into a basement room, the girl lit a candle and I thought that it looked better in the dark.

“I have been in some dark and dingy dungeons in my time, but,” I said.

“It was the best I could find,” she muttered.

“Do you have much here?” I asked, holding the candle up, the rats scurried away into the shadows.

“Not really,” she said. “Are you suggesting that I pack up and leave?”

“Do you really want to live here?” I asked.

“No, but I don’t see any alternative,” she sighed.

“Do you have my rent?” asked someone walking out of the shadow. He looked remarkable similar to the man in the newsagents. “My brother just rang to say he’d sacked you,” he added, explaining everything.

“Can you just give me a bit of time?” she begged.

“I have given you plenty of time,” he said. “I want a return on my patience.”

“I don’t like the tone of that,” I said.

“I don’t think this is any of your business,” he replied.

“Oh but it is very much my business,” I replied. “I am this young ladies Fairy Godmother.”

“You haven’t been doing a very good job so far,” he laughed.

“I think it is time we left,” I said to the girl.

“I don’t,” he said moving between us and the door.

“My things,” she said. I waved my wand and a bag flew down from the top of the wardrobe and things emerged from the drawers as well as the wardrobe, folded themselves and packed the bag. The man leapt back and ran from the room.

“I didn’t think he could move that quickly,” she said as more bags appeared and her things quickly filled them.

“Lets go,” I said heading for the door. The man, his brother and a couple of other, rather bulky men stood in our way.

“I don’t think so,” said the man trying to look tough, but failing. I waved my wand and the bags flew at the men.

“Oh my God!” one of them muttered as they all turned tail and ran away.

“We’d better go, whilst the going’s good,” I smiled.

By Janice Nye © 2020