The Fairy Godmother Part 77

“Have you two quite finished?” asked the she wolf.

“I think so,” I said. “How about you Mum?”

“I feel miles better,” said Enid. “Ready to face anything and that includes my Mother.”

“Good,” said the she wolf. “You’re keeping my little ones awake.”

“Sorry about that,” I said. “But I thought wolves always howled at the moon.”

“They do, but when they are older, it’s been hell trying to explain that they can join in in a couple of full moons time,” the she wolf explained. “And their Father is getting rather annoyed, he normally comes here to howl.”

“We’d better leave you in peace,” I said, getting ready to wave my wand.

“Don’t forget to put that fire out before you go, it’s amazing how much those things can spread, we haven’t had any rain in months and everything is tinder dry,” the she wolf warned.

“Of course,” I said, getting rid of the campfire.

“Don’t suppose you could drop a bit of rain on the place,” the she wolf asked. “There’s plenty of it up in the clouds, but we need it down here.”

“No sooner the word than the deed,” I said waving my wand twice, we disappeared before the rain got to where we were standing, the thank-you from the she wolf echoed after us.

“You’re always doing that,” said Enid as we appeared in her rooms.

“Doing what?” I asked.

“Helping,” Enid said. “I’d have just left the camp fire and gone.”

“But that would have been irresponsible,” I replied.

“That’s the difference between us,” Enid smiled. “You think of these things and I don’t.”

“You could always change that,” I replied.

“How?” she asked.

“Think of what I would do and then do it,” I explained, she gave me a look that said told me it would never happen.

“So what do we do next?” she asked.

“I was thinking of getting something to drink and then going to bed,” I replied.

“I don’t think alcohol is a good idea,” said Enid.

“I was thinking more like hot chocolate,” I said. “All that howling has left me with a slightly sore throat.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” said Enid, waving her wand and two mugs of hot chocolate appeared on the coffee table. “I have a guest room,” she added. “Would you like to stay the night?”

“That would be very nice Mum,” I said.

“You never called me Mum before,” said Enid.

“You never felt like my Mother before,” I said, picking up the mug. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, it’s nice,” said Enid taking me through to the guest room. “Good night.”

“Good night,” I said, looking round the room. We hadn’t done much in there because the room hadn’t been used and therefore there wasn’t any rubbish in it, just dust. I walked over to the bed and pulled back the covers a cloud of dust arose and I waved my wand to clear it from the

room. Looking in the drawers I found a nightie which was just my size, so I got changed and went to sleep.

“I wonder how long this has been here,” I thought as I drifted off.

I knew it was a dream because Lily was there and she was talking to a much younger Malcolm and Natasha.

“I tell you Enid’s pregnant!” Lily shouted.

“Who’s the Father?” asked Malcolm. “As far as I know she doesn’t know many men, at least not that well.”

“She’s fixated on that artist, I forget his name, he’s been doing sculptures in the library,” Lily replied. “Don’t you know anything about your daughter.

“Don’t be silly,” said Natasha. “She hardly knows that waste of space.”

“She’s been obsessed with him for the last five years at least,” said Lily. “I thought she’d forget about him when I got her sent off to help out with Santa, but as soon as she got back she went in search of him.”

“Are you sure she’s pregnant?” asked Malcolm.

“Yes,” snapped Lily. “I can spot the symptoms, I’ve gone through them myself.”

“You must understand, that pregnancy wasn’t a good idea,” said Natasha. “You were not stable enough to carry the baby.”

“I would have liked to have the chance,” Lily sighed.

“Rosie is a very good child and having shared a womb with a human meant that the illness didn’t end her,” said Natasha.

“If I’d been allowed to carry her, she might not have fallen ill in the first place,” Lily said.

“Unlikely,” said Natasha.

“What’s this got to do with Enid?” asked Malcolm.

“I don’t see why she should be allowed to carry a child when I wasn’t allowed to,” said a rather petulant sounding Lily.

“This relationship, if there is one and I don’t think there is one outside Enid’s imagination. This relationship is far to new to warrant Enid getting herself with child,” said Natasha. “You are seeing babies where none exist.”

“Just like you to laugh at what I’m say,” said Lily. “You never believe me when it’s something about your beloved Enid.”

“Not that old chestnut,” said Natasha looking at the ceiling. “We do not have favourites.”

“You’ll see I’m right,” shouted Lily and dashed out of the room sobbing.

“Is it her time of the month?” Malcolm asked.

“And what do you know about time of the month?” Natasha asked coldly.

“It’s what some of the men say when their wives are having a strop,” he said.

“And what else do they say?” Natasha asked.

“That they’ll calm down in a week or so,” Malcolm replied.

“Well, if that is the problem, Lily will be prepared to listen to reason in a week and I’ll talk to her then,” said Natasha.

“Right,” said Malcolm. “I’ll leave you to deal with it then.”

“Yes, like you always do,” Natasha smiled.

The scene faded to darkness, but returned, through the windows I could see snow falling, so it must have been a few months later. Enid came in through the front door carrying a baby, she looked like an early photo of me. The only baby photo of me.

“Where on earth did you get that from!” asked Natasha.

“This is my daughter Myrtle and I gave birth to her three weeks ago,” Enid smiled.

“What on earth have you brought it here for!” Natasha snapped.

“I thought you’d like to meet your granddaughter,” Enid said, stoking my hand.

“Why would we want to do that?” asked Malcolm.

“Because she’s your granddaughter,” Enid replied.

“Babies take up a lot of time,” Natasha explained. “You’d be better off dropping her off at the nursery. Eve’s working there now, she’ll take care of it.”

“Myrtle is my daughter,” Enid snapped. “She is not an “it” and I will take care of her.”

“I hope her Father is going to help you,” said Natasha. “Because you’ll never manage by yourself.”

“I can’t imagine Father was much help when you were bringing up Lily and I,” said Enid.

“He wasn’t, but I had Eve to take care of you, I didn’t have to waste my time with that sort of thing. You, I assume will be doing it all yourself,” said Natasha.

“I was hopping that you might give me a hand occasionally?” Enid asked.

“Forget it,” said Natasha. “You brought this baby into the world without bothering to ask us, so you can look after it.”

“Thanks for nothing Mother,” shouted Enid, walking out of the door and slamming it shut behind her. I started screaming.

“I hope she isn’t going to bring that noisy brat back here,” said Malcolm.

“Not if I have anything to do with it,” said Natasha.

“Thank-you dear,” said Malcolm and then the scene faded.

“What the hell was that?” I thought and drifted back to sleep.

By Janice Nye © 2020