The Fairy Godmother Part 28

“You’re right,” said Enid as I walked back into my room after the end of a hard days work.

“Thank-you,” I said, dropping down onto my bed. “What am I right about?”

“Something stinks about this whole Rosie/Ella thing,” Enid replied. “Did you know that they have arranged for her to be adopted?”

“What!” I stuttered.

“Adopted,” Enid repeated.

“But her parents,” I started.

“That still isn’t proven,” Enid replied.

“I’ve got to ring them,” I said. “They have a lawyer, if he’s worth his salt, he’ll be able to put this on hold.”

“Hello, Ian?” I said as the call was answered.

“Is this important?” he asked. “It is quite late.”

“Very,” I said. “The home have arranged for Ella to be adopted tomorrow.”

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Certain,” I replied.

“Isn’t telling me this risking your job?” he asked.

“I’m working out my notice,” I replied. “So it doesn’t matter. What matters is that this adoption is stopped.”

“I’ll get on to my lawyer right now,” he said, hanging up.

“Why would they do this?” I asked Enid. “What is so important about keeping this child from her parents.”

“It’s a good question,” said Enid.

“I can’t help thinking it has something to do with those two accidents,” I said, slowly. “How come no one noticed that Ella was with her mother, I mean there were people around when the van hit her, how come no one mentioned that she was walking with a child.”

“That is a very good question,” said Enid. “But where do we find the answer to that.”

“A hit and run in a busy street, the Police would have been called in,” I said.

“And?” asked Enid.

“Statements would have been taken,” I said. “But how can we get to see them?”

“If you were human,” said Enid. “With difficulty and it would take a long time, but you aren’t,” she smiled and waved her wand and we were in a room surrounded by filing cabinets, the drawer of one was open and a couple of files were sticking up. I pulled them out of the drawer. One was related to Ian’s accident, the other to Jessie’s hit and run. In the file about Ian’s accident there was a photo, of the scene taken later that day, in the background was a van which fitted the description of the one that ran Jessie over, there was a dent in the nearside front wing and someone seemed to have been caught washing it. The filing cabinet was labelled dead cases.

“I think Ian’s lawyer needs to see these,” I said.

“So do I,” Enid replied waving her wand. We were standing in front of Ian’s parents home and a car was pulling up. Before we had a chance to say anything Ian dashed out of the house and walked down the path to meet whoever was in the car.

“Now what do I do?” I muttered.

“Take the files to them,” said Enid giving me a little push.

“How did you get here?” asked Ian.

“A friend brought me,” I smiled. “They gave me some files that we thought might be of interest to you,” I added handling them over to Ian’s lawyer.

“I’ve been trying to get these,” he said. “But I was told they were shredded, how did you get them?” he added.

“Does it matter?” asked Ian.

“These show that procedure wasn’t followed,” said the lawyer.

“Does that matter?” Ian asked.

“Yes. Questions that should have been asked weren’t, the investigations weren’t followed through properly and they were put to one side. Either they weren’t seen as important enough to follow up on or someone didn’t want to find the answers,” the lawyer replied.

“So why have they suddenly found someone to adopt Ella?” I asked.

“She must be part of the puzzle,” he said.

“I’d better get back,” I said.

“Thank-you for these,” said the lawyer. “We’d better get a move on,” he added to Ian and I watched them drive off.

“Get me back to the home,” I said to Enid.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“They may not wait till morning to move her,” I said as she whisked us back there.

I heard a car pull up as soon as we got back to my room and looked out of my window. There should have been lights on, but the place was in darkness.

“Odd,” I muttered as I heard the front door open and close. I walked out into the hall and went to the top of the stairs, taking care to keep in the shadows. There were people talking in hushed voices by the front door.

“Is this normal?” Enid asked.

“No,” I whispered. “They are up to something.”

“I think we can guess what,” muttered Enid.

“Fetch the girl, she can be well away by the time that lawyer gets a hint that anything is amiss,” said one of the people from the car.

“Where’s her room?” asked Enid.

“This way,” I said, running down the corridor. “What shall we do?” I asked looking down on the sleeping child.

“We pack her things,” said Enid, waving her wand. “And then we take her to her Mother,” she added with another wave of her wand.

As Ella’s room disappeared from view I saw the startled look on Mrs Walters face as she opened the door to find that Ella was no longer there.

We were standing outside Jessie’s parents home and I was carrying a sleeping Ella. Enid knocked on the door and vanished.

“Hello,” I said to Jessie when she opened the front door.

“What?” she said looking confused. “You’d better come in,” she added when she realised I was carrying Ella.

“The home had arranged for Ella to be adopted,” I said.

“Ian rang me about that, him and his lawyer are going to stop it first thing,” she told me.

“They were going to take her away tonight,” I said.

“So by the time they’d got there,” Jessie stuttered.

“Ella would have been long gone,” I said. “And they would probably have destroyed any paper trail that might tell us as to where she was.”

“Why are they doing this to us?” Jessie asked.

“I don’t know,” I replied. “But they seem to be covering something up, but hopefully this will help to provide a few answers. Is it OK if I leave her here with you?”

“Of course,” said Jessie. “It’s what I’ve been dreaming of.”

“Let’s hope we can keep her here with you,” I said heading back to the door.

“What will you do?” Jessie asked.

“I’m going to see if I can find out any more information,” I smiled as I waved good-bye to her.

“Let’s go delving,” said Enid with a wicked smile on her face.

By Janice Nye © 2020

The Fairy Godmother Part 2

“Mixed,” said the head of the Fairy Council. “That’s one way of describing your work so far.” She was obviously not amused. Neither was I, one moment I was making a quick exit from some psychiatrists office because an angry three legged creature, which used to be something else, but I’m not quite sure what, was approaching as quickly as he could manage. Next, I’m standing in the office of the head of the Fairy Council being treated like some naughty school girl.

I tried smiling, couldn’t think of what to say, “How did I get here,” didn’t sound appropriate even to me.

“Have you nothing to say for yourself?” she snapped.

“I’m really not that sure what to say,” I said. “I’m doing my best.”

“What were you doing in that office?” she asked.

“I’m not really sure about that either,” I confessed. “I was busy collecting a few animals for the coach and horses.”

“Coach and horses?” she asked. “This would be your latest assignment?”

“Yes,” I agreed.

“I think you’d better start at the beginning,” she sighed, sitting down and pointing to a chair for me to sit upon. “You were sent to help Cindy Smith.”

“When I got there Cindy was standing in the middle of the kitchen,” I explained. “She was a mess, clothes all torn, looked like she’d tried to hold them together with safety pins, but it wasn’t working. Her make-up and hair were all over the place. The room was a mess, piles of mucky dishes on every surface and the mice had left because there was no food to be had. Which is why I was looking round for footmen, well mice to be turned into footmen.”

“Cindy isn’t that domesticated,” the Head Fairy agreed.

“There was an invite to some do on the peg board with her name and today’s date, so I assumed it was a Cinders revisited,” I started.

“You should never make assumptions,” the Head Fairy said.

“It was an easy mistake to make,” I tried to explain, but she was not amused.

“What did Cindy say?” the Head Fairy asked.

“She needed to get tea ready for her step Mother and her two daughters,” I replied.

“Did you sort it?” I was asked.

“I provided them with free tickets to an eat all you like do somewhere they’ve been wanting to go to for ages, when Cindy handed them over, they were out of the house quicker than it takes to say that,”

“That’s good,” the Head Fairy had to agree. “Did you stop there?”

“Well no, of course not, there was the invite on the peg board and no way was she ready for that,” I said.

“So what did you do?” the Head Fairy sighed. I got the feeling she wasn’t going to be happy with my reply, but.

“Well, I started by cleaning the kitchen, it’s hard to organise a good ball gown when you are in danger of getting food stains on it if she has a quick twirl,” I paused. “It was a bigger job than even I envisaged. I tried getting the standard washing things to start on the dishes themselves, as soon as the green scratchy thing and the tea towel came to life, they took one look at the assembled dishes and legged it out of the back door.”

“I’m surprised they didn’t leave years ago,” the Head Fairy admitted.

“The dishwasher, once I uncovered it, refused to open it’s door,” I sighed.

“Can you blame it?” she asked.

“So I tried a cleaning spell,” I assured her.

“About time,” the Head Fairy smiled.

“It took the pattern off the plates, but at least they were clean,” I said. “Then the cupboards needed cleaning before we could put them away.”

“That wouldn’t be that hard,” she said. “Would it?”

“There was already some stuff in the cupboards, well stuck to them,” I admitted. “Time was moving on by the time the kitchen looked acceptable.”

“I think clean is a bit optimistic, with that kitchen,” the Head Fairy agreed.

“Then there was the dress to sort, make-up, hair and transport,” I explained. “I transformed a stack of papers waiting for recycling into a ball gown, did her hair up in a bee hive and put the faintest hint of blusher and eyeshadow on.” I created an image fit for a film.

“Good, very good,” said the Head Fairy.

“I thought so, but Cindy didn’t,” I sighed. The Head Fairy raised an eye brow. “Not that sort of do.”

“Shouldn’t you have found that out fist?” the Head Fairy suggested.

“There was a lot to do,” I explained. “There wasn’t time for a lot of talking.”

“I told her she’d be fine and went to collect the things for her transport,” I explained. “I was busy recruiting cats and mice when I saw the perfect pumpkin just inside a supermarket, they weren’t too keen when I tried to organise the cats and mice to pick it up, so I could take it back to Cindy. I think that is when the pest control van arrived and the psychiatrist.”

“Were you certified?” she asked.

“Don’t think they’d got round to that, he was just asking questions when the three legged creature started coming up the stairs to the office,” I smiled.

“The three legged creature, you should at least know what it is you’ve turned someone into,” she said. “And I really don’t think Ian deserved it.”

“May-be not, but he was being a pest,” I said.

“That’s as may-be,” she said. “But you need to turn him back into what he was.”

“Human,” I said.

“I’ll take your word for that,” she sighed.

“Anything else?” I asked.

“You need to finish what you’ve started,” the Head Fairy replied.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Cindy!” she said. “You have left her without transport and in a totally unsuitable dress.”

“You said it was a nice gown,” I reminded her.

“Not for a punk do,” she said.

“So the coach and horses wouldn’t do either?” I asked.

“I’d better go with you to sort this out,” she said. “You have to move with the times.”

Cindy wasn’t looking too happy when we got back. The dress wasn’t looking too good either, she’d done a good job of dirtying it down and got the kitchen in a bit of a mess in the process.

“What kind of shit God Mother are you?” she shouted at me as soon as I walked in the door with the Head Fairy.

“I will not have that sort of language,” said the Head Fairy.

That’s when I was expecting a diatribe.

“There was only one vaguely rude word in that, I’ve heard worse at the local nursery,” the Head Fairy told her.

“Well,” she muttered, pointing to her dress, the tears welling up in her eyes. “I was just about ready to go and she turns up and.”

“Your clothes were ripped and filthy and you were looking round the kitchen like you didn’t know what the hell to do for best,” I reminded her.

“My boyfriend was about to come, on his motor bike and I planned on leaving this dump for good,” Cindy replied. “All I wanted was someone to get that bitch and her spawn out of the place whilst I made my get away.”

“Oh,” I said. “Well, they’re still out.”

“Much good that’s going to do me, my boyfriend took one look at me and the kitchen and left saying he’d come to the wrong house,” said Cindy, slumping down on the nearest chair, she’d managed to spill cooking oil on it and so went sliding off onto the floor.

I was beginning to think things couldn’t get any worse when the step-mother and her two daughters came back.

“I think this is where I put things on hold,” said the Head Fairy. “Now do you see where you went wrong?” she asked me.

“I should have listened to Cindy,” I said.

“By the was she prefers to be called Cin,” the Head Fairy said.

“What should I do?” I asked.

“I shall turn that rusty old bike into a sleek black motorbike, then turn that randy ginger mog into Cindy’s view of Prince Charming, return her clothes to what they were and leave them to head to the do,” the Head Fairy replied whisking her wand around the room.

The back door flew open and the cat/man stood there all in leather, Cindy left without a word and climbed onto the back of his motorbike.

The Head Fairy waved her wand again, the kitchen was spotless as the step-mother and her daughters walked in.

“Are you sure we’ve come to the right house?” asked the eldest of the sisters.

“Key fitted in the lock and the rest of the house looks right,” said the other sister.

“The lazy cow’s done what she’s been told to do for once,” said their Mother.

“Where is she?” asked the eldest sister.

“Who cares?” said their Mother. “I’m off to bed.”

“Time to go,” said the Head Fairy.

“I thought I’d get into trouble for changing the endings,” I said looking confused as we came back to the Head Fairy’s office.

“Cindy is happy, she’s off to the do, where she will meet someone who wont turn into a cat when the clock strikes twelve,” said the Head Fairy. “Her step-mother and her daughters will carry on as before till the money runs out or they run out of clean crockery.”

“And?” I asked. “It feels like there should be an and there.”

“And the three legged creature will wake up in the morning as Ian, but with one hell of a hangover and will assume that all the things he remembers are just the result of too much alcohol and maybe he wont want to kill you, slowly,” the Head Fairy replied.

“What happens now?” I asked.

“We give you another job and hope you don’t mess that up,” sighed the Head Fairy handing me an envelope. The room disappeared and I found myself sitting in a bus stop.

“Better see what’s in this,” I muttered opening the envelope.

By Janice Nye © 2019