The Fairy Godmother Part 19

“Shouldn’t you use a tissue?” he asked. I had sneezed a zillion times with hardly time to draw breath and when that ended my poor nose was dripping and my hands were covered with slime.

“I don’t have one,” I replied looking at my hands. He proffered me some kitchen roll which looked as if it had been sitting in a pool of something, but it had to be better than nothing.

“Now there is the problem of what to do with that,” he said looking at it as if it contained all the worst known germs in the world, plus a few unknown ones.

“Do you have a plastic bag that I can put it in?” I asked.

“The ex didn’t like plastic bags, said they were smothering the planet, polluting the oceans and strangling the wildlife,” he replied.

“Very worthy,” I replied, thinking of the problems I’d had with plastic bags as a tooth fairy. A tooth is relatively small, a tooth in a plastic bag can be quite a problem, the whole package is so much bigger and the bags rustle very loudly.

“You can’t just leave it lying about,” he said. “Think of the germs.”

“I shall take it to the bin,” I sighed and headed out of the window.

“Why don’t you use the door, like everyone else?” he asked as I flew down to the bins.

“It’s you again,” said the man who, as always, was hanging round the bins.

“I could say the same,” I replied hovering over the correct bin and managing to deposit the soggy mess that had been kitchen paper, into it.

“Do you fly everywhere?” he asked.

“Saves ware and tare on my shoes,” I replied.

“No one comes here any more because of you,” he said. “You’ve chased all my customers away.”

“Then I suggest you find alternative employment,” I replied.

“There are people wanting money from me,” he said. “Because of you, I haven’t got it.”

“Give them back what you didn’t sell,” I suggested.

“They don’t want it back, they want their money and they are getting rather angry,” he said.

“Very,” said a voice from the shadows.

“You are both being very stupid,” said Enid. I think my ears are rather gummed up, that’s the second time I haven’t heard her coming.

“And what’s it to do with you?” the man by the bins asked.

“I am the Head Fairy, the well being of all the fairy’s is my business,” Enid snapped.

“Get you,” muttered the voice from the shadows. Enid waved her wand and he was dragged out into the beam from the street light. He didn’t look half as menacing as he sounded, but he still didn’t look like someone you would want to meet in a dark ally or by the bins.

“Nice to see who I’m talking to,” said Enid.

“This is between, me, him and possibly her,” he said waving in my direction. “It’s got nothing to do with you.”

“It has everything to do with me,” said Enid. “Do not presume to tell me what my business is.”

“Do you know who I am?” he asked.

“Of course we do,” said one of the two Policemen who were busily hand cuffing him and the man by the bins. “You are the two who are going to accompany us to the station to answer some questions about all this,” he added holding up a bag which seemed rather heavy.

“And what about them?” they asked him.

“Who?” asked one of the Policemen. “You two are the only ones here.”

“But there were two Fairies, flying about, above the bins,” the man from the shadows insisted.

“You been sampling the wares have you?” he was asked as he was helped into the back of the Police car.

“What were you going to do with those two?” Enid asked.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But I don’t think it would be a problem if I had my wand back.”

“The more you keep saying that, the longer it will be before you get it back,” Enid replied. “You know how the Head of the Fairy Council works.”

“I think she sent me this cold or whatever it is,” I said sneezing violently and covering at least ten of the bins in slime.

“You may be right, but it’s nothing compared with what the Fairies she had getting rid of the cobwebs have and as for the ones who had to clean the snot off the council table, chairs and floor, you don’t want to know how ill they are,” said Enid.

“And you want me to wrap up this job quickly and head back there?” I replied.

“OK, that isn’t much of an incentive, but Christmas is coming and there is a growing backlog of things to do, we need all the help we can get,” Enid replied.

“A wave of a wand would sort all that out,” I replied. “But I don’t have my wand, so the Head of the Fairy Council will just have to sort it out herself.”

“That isn’t going to endear you with her,” said Enid.

“At this moment, I have a splitting headache, my throat is red raw and my nose is running like a tap which is odd because it feels blocked,” I replied. “So forgive me for not feeling sorry for her, but I don’t,” I added and started coughing uncontrollably, which was extremely annoying as I had just got level with the kitchen window of his flat and the coughing had shot me backwards, several yards and up a few floors. I waved and smiled at the children in the flat three floors up from the one I was aiming at and made a second attempt at getting back to the kitchen.

“And don’t you dare laugh at me,” I snapped.

“Was that for my benefit or hers?” he asked as I climbed into the window.

“Yes,” I snapped.

“You are in a bad way,” he said. “You should go to bed.”

“A Fairy Godmother doesn’t sleep on the job,” Enid said sharply.

“I have also been told that they don’t catch colds,” he said looking at me. Enid handed me a handkerchief just in time to catch the next bout of sneezing.

“You’d better keep it,” said Enid when I’d finished. Got to say one thing about fairy handkerchiefs, doesn’t matter how much snot you aim at them, they always look clean and freshly ironed.

“Perhaps a rest might improve her efficiency,” Enid admitted.

“So should I head back to the Fairy dormitory?” I asked.

“Not really possible,” said Enid.

“Why not?” I asked.

“Well, for one,” said Enid. “You may not have the same bug as everyone else.”

“And the other reason?” I asked.

“Your bed has been reallocated,” Enid added. “They had to segregate the sick and the healthy.”

“So the Head of the Fairy Council wouldn’t be able to accommodate me even if I was well enough to go back,” I said.

“Not at the moment,” said Enid. “Though I’m sure, when you are well enough, we will find somewhere for you.”

“She can always sleep here,” he said.

“It is a one bedroomed flat,” Enid and I said together.

“I don’t mind sharing,” he smiled.

“I do,” I snapped.

“There’s a sofa,” said Enid. “You’ll just have to sleep there, for the time being.”

“This is impossible,” I snapped, but she was fading away even as I said that.

“It’s a comfy sofa,” he smiled.

“You had better not get any ideas,” I said.

“I’ll get you a clean duvet and some pillows and make you a mug of hot chocolate,” he said. “My exs all used to love that when they weren’t well.”

“Thank-you,” I replied. “At this moment I can’t think of anything nicer,” probably because at that moment I was struggling to think straight.

By Janice Nye © 2019