The Fairy Godmother Part 6

“Do you all know what to do?” I asked the shoe maker, the man who had been pretending to hold his wife in stasis and the ex door man of Sybil’s home.

“I slip a sleeping draught into the visiting King’s drink,” said the ex door man. I’d waved my wand and got him a job at the palace, if I could have, I’d have waved my wand to put the stuff in the King’s drink, but there was too much risk of it ending up in the wrong glass. He was to take the drink to the King before the ball, that way we’d know it went to the right person. If he slept through the whole thing, then there was no way he could meet Sybil.

“I have been taken on as an extra driver for the day and I shall collect Sybil to take her to the ball,” said the shoe maker. “I never thought my taxi drivers licence would come in useful, not after we opened the shoe shop.”

“And what do you do then?” I asked him.

“There’s some sort of do on at the convent, I think it’s a prayer vigil, or something, I take her there and leg it before she realises she’s in the wrong place. The Nun’s have taken a vow of silence, so that should make it hard for her to find out she’s in the wrong place. They don’t have any phones and even if she takes her mobile, they have something that will kill any signal within a ten mile radius of the place, so she wont be able to get a taxi, not for hours,” the shoe maker smiled.

“And you are the right one for that job because of your taxi licence and because she has never seen you before and so you shouldn’t raise any suspicions,” I said.

“That leaves you two,” said the shoe maker.

“We are going to search Sybil’s room to see if we can find the mirror and get some answers out of it,” I replied.

“Answers?” asked the ex door man.

“Like how to take the curse off the village, how to get the shoe makers wife out of stasis, what has she done to the Head Fairy how do we get the jewels back,” I said. “If all goes to plan we will meet back at the shoe makers after midnight.”

“And if it doesn’t?” asked the shoe maker.

“Then we probably wont be able to get back,” I said. “Good luck everyone.”

“We are going to need it,” muttered the man who was going to search Sybil’s room with me.

Half an hour before the ball was due to start, the ex door man walked through the corridors delivering drinks to all the guests. He knocked on the King’s door, the King answered.

“Is this important?” he asked. “Only everyone is very busy.”

“Complementary drinks,” the ex door man said, handing over a glass for the King to taste.

“Very nice,” he said as he knocked back the contents, the ex door man gave him a second glass, which was also laced with the knockout drugs and pushed the trolley into the room.

“It should help everyone to relax,” said the King, smiling and sitting down. He was snoring before the ex door man closed the door.

“That’s my part played,” he muttered and headed back to the shoe makers house.

The shoe maker knocked on the door of Sybil’s suite of rooms.

“What are you here for?” asked the maid.

“I’ve come to drive your Lady to the Ball,” said the shoe maker.

“It’ll be good to see the back of her for a while,” the maid muttered.

“Not easy to get on with?” asked the shoe maker.

“Do your job, speak when spoken to and you should be OK,” she said.

“Will she be long?” the shoe maker asked.

“Wait here and I’ll find out,” said the maid. “Five minutes,” she said a moment later.

“So what do you and the rest of her staff do whilst she’s away?” he asked smiling at the maid.

“Everyone else has the evening off,” she sighed. “I get to wait for her return and see to her every biding.”

“Tough Job?” he asked.

“Depends on how the evening went,” the maid replied. “If everything goes to plan, she’s happy and generous. If it doesn’t, then you’ll get the sack for just looking at her wrong.”

“Tough,” he said.

“Here she is,” said the maid as the doors opened and a tall thin woman stood there.

“My Lady!” he said bowing. “The car awaits to drive you to the ball.”

“I should think so,” she smiled. “There was some talk about making my own way there.”

“An error in administration,” the shoe maker replied. “A Lady such as you should never be expected to make their way anywhere.”

“This car?” she said.

“If you will come with me,” said the shoe maker, holding out his arm and bowing.

“Of course,” she said, taking his arm and leaving the room. Another maid followed in her wake carrying a coat and a bag.

I and my companion, co-conspirator, whatever you wish to call him, waited across the corridor and watched behind a cloak of invisibility whilst all this went on.

“What do we do now?” he asked as the door to the rooms closed and the shoe maker and Sybil disappeared down the stairs.

“You heard the maid say that all the other servants were getting the night off,” I said.

“Yes,” he replied.

“Then they will probably be going out,” I said, as the door opened and a group of servants left.

“It’s alright for you,” the maid muttered as she watched them leave. “I’ve got to stay here and pray that my Lady is in a good mood when she gets back.”

“She wont be,” muttered my companion.

“I know and I don’t feel too happy about that,” I sighed.

“So what do we do?” he asked.

“Wing it,” I muttered walking over to the door and knocking on it.

“My Lady is out,” said the maid when she opened the door. “As is everyone else,” she sighed.

“I know,” I smiled.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“I am your Fairy Godmother and I am here to grant you three wishes,” I said, holding my wand up as if that proved anything.

“Three wishes,” she sighed.

“Three wishes,” I repeated.

“My Mum is ill, I want her to be better,” she said. “And I’d like to be with her, not here.”

“And lastly?” I asked.

“I would like enough money to last us for the rest of our lives, to keep us comfortable, nothing fancy or anything,” she said.

“No sooner the word than the deed,” I said, waving my want three times and the maid vanished.

“Nice,” said my companion. “I was just reckoning on hitting her over the head with something.”

“We need to find the mirror,” I reminded him.

“Perhaps you should have kept the maid here, she might have known where it is,” he said.

“She wouldn’t be able to tell us if she were unconscious,” I said. “Anyway, people who consult these mirrors tend to do so when they are alone.”

“Start with the bedroom then,” he said.

“Of course,” I said walking off in the direction that Sybil had come from and opening the door to a very large stately bedroom.

“Talking mirror where are you?” I asked.

“Like it’s going to tell you,” he laughed.

“Over here,” a muffled voice replied. I opened the wardrobe and saw something at the back wrapped in an old sheet. I picked it out and unwrapped it.

“You aren’t Sybil,” the woman in the mirror said.

“Do you like working for her?” I asked.

“Look where she’s put me,” the mirror replied. “I should be on a wall for all to admire, not shoved in the back of a wardrobe.”

“How would you like to be the centre of attention at the Fairy Hall?” I asked.

“That sounds much better,” she smiled. “What do you want?”

“There is a village, she put a curse on it,” said the man.

“You want the curse lifted,” said the mirror.

“That would be good,” I said. “And the shoe makers wife, she’s in stasis.”

“He wants her back,” said the mirror. “And what do you want?”

“The Head Fairy, Sybil has her prisoner,” I said.

“That’s doable,” said the mirror. “But not easy.”

“So what do we need to do?” he asked.

“The curse on the village will lift if she sets foot in a religious house,” said the mirror. “She’s a Godless creature, so I don’t know how you will do that. The shoe makers wife will wake up when the King falls into a deep sleep and the Head Fairy will be released once the dawn breaks,” she added.

“I nearly forgot, we need the Head Fairy’s Jewellery back,” I added.

“If the Head Fairy opens the Jewellery box and tells them to come back, then they will,” the mirror added.

“How will you know when these things are done?” I asked.

“I am a talking mirror and I will know,” she replied as the shoe makers wife walked into the room.

“Where am I she asked,” looking confused.

“Well, that’s one,” said the mirror. “And now number two, I don’t know how, but she’s just walked into a convent.”

“Now we just have to wait till dawn,” the mirror said.

“Do we all have to stay here?” the man asked.

“There doesn’t seem to be much point,” I agreed, waving my wand over him and the shoe makers wife.

“What have you done to them?” the mirror asked.

“Sent them back to the shoe makers house,” I replied. “Till then we wait.”

by Janice Nye © 2019

The Fairy Godmother Part 5

“He can’t see you,” said the man as we headed back to the bus shelter.

“I can be small, very small,” I said.

“No, he can’t see you at all,” he insisted. “I’ve tried bringing people along to watch and follow him, but he always knows that they are there.

“I am under strict instruction not to let those gems out of my sight,” I said.

“But,” he stuttered.

“This is not negotiable,” I said as I got an angry look from the Head Fairy.

“If he notices something suspicious,” he said.

“He wont,” I replied, my fingers crossed behind my back.

“I saw that,” muttered the Head Fairy.

“I can be invisible,” I said looking at the Head Fairy.

“If you must,” she muttered.

“That might work,” he said, putting the box of jewels into his pocket. I waved my wand and slipped in the pocket alongside the box.

“How does this work?” he asked.

“Simple,” I replied, the Head Fairy joining me in the pocket. “You go along to the bus shelter, as per usual and act the same way as you normally do. Leave the rest to me.”

“OK,” he said. “And afterwards?”

“You go home,” I said.

“What about my wife?” he asked.

“We’ll let you know as soon as we find out anything,” I replied.

“But what do I do in the meantime?” he asked.

“You could start off by cleaning the house up,” I suggested. “There’s one thing feeling needed, but she’s going to feel like she’s the unpaid servant if she comes back to a mess like that.”

“I don’t know how to even start on it all,” he sighed.

“Chuck out the rubbish, wash the muckies, run a duster round things and sweep the floor, that would be a good start,” I said.

“But that’s women’s work,” he muttered.

“You make a mess, you clean it up,” I replied.

“But,” he started.

“Do you want her to take one look at that lot and decide to go elsewhere?” I asked.

“No,” he muttered as the bus shelter came into view and the man was waiting for him.

“He’s obviously interested,” I said.

“Either that or she knows what’s been offered,” muttered the Head Fairy.

“So we will get there quickly,” I said.

“Good luck,” he muttered.

“Have you got them?” the strange man asked.

“Here,” said our man, taking the box out of his pocket and opening it.

“They are more beautiful than even your photo led me to believe,” he sighed taking hold of the box and stroking the gems. The Head Fairy grimaced as if he’d stroked her and heaved a sigh of relief when he closed the box.

“My wife?” asked our man.

“Now why should I hand her over when you bring me things like this?” he asked, putting the box in his pocket, we went with it.

“Because you said you would,” our man whimpered.

“You know I am not a man of my word and still you keep hoping,” he laughed.

“What if I stopped bringing things?” our man asked.

“I know plenty of people who would pay a pretty penny for her,” he smiled.

“No, please don’t,” our man pleaded.

“No the best pleader I’ve heard,” muttered the Head Fairy.

“You keep on finding things for me,” the strange man said. “And I’ll think about it.”

“We’ve got to get the shoe makers wife back to him,” I said.

“Might be an idea to relocate them as well,” said the Head Fairy. “When we have the jewellery back.”

The dawn was just beginning to break when we got somewhere, not quite sure where, but he climbed out of his car checked his pocket for the box and headed towards a rather large and ornate door which looked as if it could hold back several hordes rampaging or otherwise.

The door opened wide and a rather menacing man stood in it.

“I believe you have something for my lady,” he said.

“Yes,” he stuttered, handing over the box. The man opened it for a quick glance.

“Those gems are not for your eyes,” said a voice from within the building.

“I recognise that voice,” muttered the Head Fairy. “Now what was her name.”

The door slammed shut and we slipped quickly into the building.

“What do you want me to say to him?” asked the man who opened the door.

“I don’t really care,” she said, then paused. “But I suppose he might still be useful, say something to keep him on side.”

“OK my lady,” he said smiling.

“I’m not sure that I like the look on his face,” I muttered.

“He isn’t the problem,” said the Head Fairy. “She is!”

“I know you are here,” said the woman. “That invisibility spell wont hide you from me Enid.”

“Enid!” I giggled.

“So, that’s my name,” the Head Fairy snapped. “It isn’t like a choose the stupid thing.”

“Of course not,” I said, trying not to giggle and failing.

“And that little friend of yours,” she added.

“Apprentice,” said the Head Fairy stiffly. “And if you let her go now, I wont tell her what your name is,” the Head Fairy added, her arms crossed and a look on her face that I wouldn’t want looking at me.

“Apprentice,” the woman said. “I hope you treat her better than you treated me.”

“I wouldn’t say you’ve done badly for yourself,” said the Head Fairy. “Do we have a deal?”

“Of course,” smiled the woman. “I have you, what use is an apprentice. Tell her she has ten seconds to get out of here.”

“Go,” the Head Fairy snapped. “No questions.”

“OK,” I said, waving my wand.

“I thought you’d been told to limit wand use,” said the woman.

“That’s my problem, not yours,” said the Head Fairy.

“That and a few other things,” said the woman. “Unless, of course, you help me and you’d better think about that carefully before you make any rash comments.”

“Sybil, you are the most,” the Head Fairy started to say.

“Remember what I said,” Sybil replied. “You don’t want to say anything rash, you might regret it later.”

“They didn’t want you in the college,” the Head Fairy replied. “But I went out on a limb for you.”

“Bet you wish you hadn’t,” Sybil laughed.

“It gets thrown back at me each time I back someone they don’t like,” the Head Fairy replied.

“That includes you,” the Head Fairy mouthed to me as I hovered near the window.

“I’m going to follow him,” I mouthed back. She nodded in my direction and I hurried away before Sybil noticed.

“Whatever you’re planning, it wont work,” Sybil said smiling at the Head Fairy.

“I am not planning anything,” the Head Fairy replied.

“I do believe you are not,” said Sybil. “This should be interesting.”

The man stood outside wondering what to do next.

“Your lady is not so keen on you as you are on her,” I said hovering just a few feet from him.

“This is your doing,” he snapped, spinning round.

“I wouldn’t say that,” I replied. “She didn’t even want to see you.”

“She can be like that sometimes,” he said walking back to his car. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“It means she doesn’t feel the need to keep you onside,” I replied.

“I do everything and more that she asks of me,” he said.

“And yet she doesn’t seem to think that is enough,” I said. “What does she do for you?”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“You scurry round trying to find things to please her, but is she happy, no,” I replied. “So why do you keep doing it?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” he muttered.

“Then explain,” I said.

“Why?” he asked.

“It seems to me that we if we work together we could come up with a solution that would be equitable to both of us,” I replied.

“What has she got that you want back?” he asked.

“The Head Fairy and the gems in that box,” I replied.

“What’s she to you?” he asked and then shook his head. “Don’t bother, fairies are a bit of a law unto themselves.”

“So what has she got on you?” I asked.

“She has cast a spell on the village I come from, it is like a shadow, held is suspense, I can see them, but they can’t see or hear me,” he sighed.

“You want the spell raised,” I said. “Has she given you any clues on how that may be done.”

“No,” he sighed, starting the car up. “And try as I will, she says nothing about what I can do to free them from this curse.”

“Where is the shoe makers wife?” I asked.

“I brought her here,” he said. “She is the one who put her in stasis.”

“Stop the car,” I said, as the man who opened the door walked up to it.

“She’s thrown me out,” he said. “All these years of service,” he added as a bag flew from the door in his direction. “And this is all I have to show for my unquestioning devotion.”

“What happened?” I asked.

“That blasted mirror,” he said. “She told me to hang it on the wall, I did, just as she asked.”

“And?” I asked.

“The mirror told her about a ball at the palace tomorrow night, it is to be attended by a King from a near by country,” he said. “She saw his arrival, in the mirror and fell for him.”

“What about his wife?” I asked.

“She died a few years ago,” he said. “Anyway, with those gems she’s got he doesn’t stand a chance. He’ll fall for her and whisk her away to his kingdom.”

“Do you want to bring her down?” I asked.

“Just tell me what to do,” he asked.

“Get in the car,” I said. “We need to do a bit of plotting, we need to put a great big spanner in her plans.”

by Janice Nye © 2019

The Fairy Godmother Part 4

“So how did you come by this talking mirror?” I asked as soon as we got to his house.

“Don’t you think you should work around to that one?” asked the Head Fairy.

“No,” I said to the Head Fairy.

“Well?” I asked him.

“What do you know about the mirror?” he asked.

“I know that in the wrong hands it can do a lot of harm,” I said. “Now, what do you know about it and how did you get your hands on it?”

“It’s a long story,” he sighed. “I’m not sure where to start.”

“Try the beginning,” I said. “It’s best to start there, prevents unpleasant flash backs and the confusion they can create.”

“Where are my manners,” he said unlocking the door and showing me into the house. “Would you like a drink?”

“A cup of tea will be fine,” I said, waving my wand and a tea tray dragged itself out from behind a cupboard, the tea pot sprang into action the muck and mouldy tea bags flew out of it into the bin and the kettle began to sing. More tea bags appeared along with a couple of mugs, a sugar bowl and milk jug.

“I didn’t know I had a tea set,” he muttered, as they all gathered on the tray, along with a plate of assorted biscuits.

“Right,” I said. “Shall we go into the living room so we can sit comfortably whilst you tell me all about the mirror?”

“We can go there,” he said. “But I don’t know about sitting comfortably,” he added, opening the living room door.

The tray followed me into the room, but there was no obvious place for it to sit down, all the surfaces where littered with either dirty clothes or discarded take-away containers. With a wave of my wand I cleared some space for us and the tray, with a sigh of relief it sank down onto the coffee table.

“I could do with a wand like that,” he sighed.

“You could do with a cleaner,” I said.

“I could do with the money to pay one,” he said.

“What happened to your wife?” I asked, noting the wedding photo, about the only thing in the room that was clean.

“She gone, well been taken,” he sighed. “Since then, it has been hard motivating myself, things seemed to pile up and. She was always so good at organising.”

“Is that when things started to go wrong?” I asked.

“Yes,” he sighed.

“Then that is where you need to start,” I said. “I know it’s difficult, but.”

“I need to tell it all,” he said, looking at the photo. “Happiest day of my life, when we got wed and we had a good life together. She helped me set up the shoe shop, kept the books, did the ordering. I made them, she sold them, we were a team.”

“And then?” I asked, not sure that I really wanted to know.

“He turned up one day, about a year ago, asking where we got such good quality leather,” he said. “My wife knew good suppliers, she could talk them into providing the best quality at a good price. She always said it was my workmanship that made the shoes sell, but it doesn’t matter how good a craftsman you are, you can’t make a silk purse out of a sows ear.” He sighed and gazed at the fireplace. “I should light the fire, it’s cold in here. She always kept the fire built up, a warm welcome when I came in from the workshop.”

“So, this man turns up,” I prompted him, he seemed to have come to a halt, he wasn’t even standing up to light the fire and the room was getting colder.

“Should I light the fire?” I asked the Head Fairy.

“Might be an idea, because it doesn’t look as if he’s going to,” she sighed.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“We try to discourage too much wand,” she said.

“It isn’t like he’s noticing it,” I said. “And doing anything any other way would take rather too long.”

“OK, your call,” said the Head Fairy. In other words, if it goes right, I take the credit, if it doesn’t then you’re up to your neck in it.

I lit the fire and the heat and light from it seemed to bring him back from his wool gathering.

“He kept coming in to the shop asking where we got out materials from, my wife told him, but they wouldn’t deal with him and he got increasingly agitated,” he sighed. “My wife told him it was out of her hands, she couldn’t make them sell to him.”

“So what happened next?” I asked, trying to get him to continue.

“I came home one day to find her gone,” he sobbed. I handed him a hankie. He took it and blew his nose loudly. “There was a note on the counter, with a photo of my wife in something that looked like a glass topped coffin. The note said that she was in stasis and would stay like that until I did what he asked.”

“And what he asked for was the talking mirror?” I asked.

“No,” he sighed. “At first it was a load of fancy shoes, he said they were for his lady.”

“Sounds like he wants to keep her onside,” I said.

“The demands got greater and he still wouldn’t return my wife. The mirror was just the latest thing, he said it would be the last, but he lied,” he sighed. “Now it feels like I am going to be on a string forever and that I will never get her back.”

“Where did you get the mirror from?” I asked. “I mean your usual suppliers can’t have had one.”

“The brother of one of the people in the dispatches of our supplier lived next door to a widow and his son, he took their only cow into market to see what they could get for it. He knew a good hide when he saw it and was going to make an offer for the cow, but the widow’s son sold it before he got to market. Sold it for a bag of beans, his Mother was furious with him and threw them in the garden, I think she’d said there weren’t even enough to make a good meal in that bag, I think she was more angry with herself for leaving the job to him. Anyway, next morning the brother of the person in dispatches was up early and saw that the beans had sprung up over night and the stalk reached up into the sky, so he climbed it. At the top of the bean stalk he saw a palace and went to look round. The place was full of treasure and he was wondering how he could get at least some of it back down here when this mirror called to him. Well, he had to have it, wrapped it in a sack and took it down with him, promising himself he’d be back later for the rest, but when he got back at the end of the day, the bean stalk had been chopped off at ground level and lay withering on the ground. He told his the person in dispatches and they promised to see if they could find a buyer for the mirror. I mentioned it to him and he wanted it, for his lady. He promised me my wife back if I got it to him, but he lied. Now I have neither the mirror or my wife,” he sighed again and looked at me.

“Well,” I said to the Head Fairy. “Looks like the mirror supply line has been cut off.”

“That’s good,” she said. “But we are no nearer to finding the one that is out there.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” I replied.

“You sent a message to him about the mirror?” I asked.

“He’s always on the lookout for something good,” he said. “Something to impress his lady.”

“Then we lure him here with something that he can’t resist,” I said.

“For what purpose?” he asked.

“We need to do two things,” I replied. “Find out where the mirror is and find out where your wife is being kept.”

“So,” asked the Head Fairy. “Do you have any ideas as to what this lady will find irresistible?”

“You have some magic jewellery,” I said to the Head Fairy. “It isn’t mine, it comes with the job, personally I think it’s a bit gaudy. Why?”

“It makes the wearer irresistible to the man she chooses,” I smiled.

“I have no money left to buy anything that she might want,” he said.

“She seems to know her magic,” I told the Head Fairy. “It’s this or wave good bye to the talking mirror.”

“Fine,” the Head Fairy muttered, snapping her fingers, a fine leather jewellery box appeared. “But if you loose these,” she glared.

“I shall keep them in clear sight all the time,” I promised. “Anyway, you’ll be with me.”

“You bet I will,” she muttered.

“I think you will find that this meets the bill,” I said handing the box over. He opened the lid and took a photo of it’s contents and then sent it off.

“If that doesn’t get him running nothing will,” he sighed as his phone rang back to say he had a text.

“USUAL PLACE, TEN MINUTES.”

“He’s taken the bait,” I said.

By Janice Nye © 2019

The Fairy Godmother Part 3

The rain started falling on the roof of the bus shelter as I read the instructions for my next job as a Fairy Godmother. The instruction

Get this right

was written large in several places.

“I shall be watching,” said the Head Fairy. I jumped, she was sitting next to me, not that there were any seats in the bus shelter, but a Fairy doesn’t let something like that get in the way.

“How long have you been there?” I asked.

“Long enough,” she smiled.

“Are you just here to observe or can I ask your advice?” I asked.

“You can ask my advice,” she said, after a moments thought. “It will probably be easier that way than having to sort out a mess once it’s made.”

“I might not make a mess,” I said.

“And you may not need my advice,” she smiled. “Now, what have you noticed about the assignment?”

“Apart from 

 

Get this right”

“I’m glad you noticed it, there were a lot in the committee that didn’t think you would,” replied. “What else did you see?”

“You’ve placed me here and there isn’t an address on this,” I said, holding up the paper.

“Why do you think that is?” she asked.

“Something is going to happen here?” I asked.

“Shall we wait and see,” said the Head Fairy making herself comfortable. It didn’t look like I had much choice with that one, so I joined her near the roof of the bus shelter, out of the wind and rain.

Half an hour later a shadow of a man walked up to the bus shelter.

“There is something not quite right about him,” I whispered to the Head Fairy.

“You can say that again,” she replied. “He is under strict curfew, he shouldn’t be out at this time of the day.”

“What on earth does he hope to gain hanging around here?” I asked. “The last bus left over an hour ago.”

“True,” she said, as someone else walked into the bus shelter.

“Do you have it?” they asked of the first man.

“Here,” he said, handing over something that looked a bit like a mirror. “And much good may it do you.”

“It isn’t for me,” said the second person. “It is for my lady, she has questions to ask of it.”

“I don’t want to know what you want with it,” said the first man. “You have told me more than enough already. Just give me what I asked of you and I’ll darken your door no more.”

“Do I have your word that you will say nothing of this?” the second man asked.

“Of course,” he said. “Now give me that which is mine.”

“I don’t know if I should,” said the second man. “There may be more that I would have from you.”

“You would go back on your word!” the first man shouted.

“I am not a man of my word, you are a fool to think otherwise,” said the second man. “I will be in touch with you.”

“You are evil,” said the first man as the second walked away with the mirror.

“And your opinion?” asked the Head Fairy.

“Is that a talking mirror?” I asked.

“It is,” said the Head Fairy.

“So the man who has it is up to no good,” I said. “And the lady he is taking it to is up to even less good.”

“So what do you think you should do?” asked the Head Fairy.

“I don’t know,” I replied frowning. “It has echoes of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.”

“So?” asked the Head Fairy.

“Do we find out where the mirror is going to or follow the man who got it?” I asked.

“Time to think it through,” said the Head Fairy.

“I thought you were supposed to advise me,” I snapped.

“I am here to observe you and stop you before you do anything wrong,” replied the Head Fairy. “If I tell you what to do all the time you will never learn and if you take that tone with me again you’ll find yourself on Christmas Tree duty.” I went pale at that thought.

“How do those mirrors work?” I asked. “I mean is there someone trapped in the mirror or what?”

“Got to say that is not a question that anyone has ever asked before,” the Head Fairy replied.

“Then perhaps following the man who got the mirror might lead us to where they come from and answer the question of how they are made,” I replied.

“And why do you think that is a better plan of action than following the man with the mirror to see who he gives it to?” asked the Head Fairy.

“One, we know he is giving it to a lady, two, the person who had the mirror in Snow White had it before she became a wicked step-mother, she probably used it to entrap Snow White’s Father and so we have plenty of time before anything happens in that story,” I replied.

“Plenty of time?”

“If she had met and married the King, she would be a Queen, he called her my Lady. Takes time to organise a wedding and time to see Snow White as a rival,”

“OK, any other reasons?” asked the Head Fairy.

“Him with the mirror has disappeared off and the other man is still there, hitting his head on the bus shelter,” I replied.

“I know how he feels,” muttered the Head Fairy. “So what do you plan to do?”

“Stop him from hitting his head for a start off,” I smiled.

“And how do you propose to do that?” asked the Head Fairy.

“I shall introduce myself as his Fairy Godmother, if that doesn’t stop him in his tracks nothing short of a gun to his head will,” I replied.

“Go ahead,” smiled the Head Fairy. “I should like to see you in action, but I reserve the right to intervene at any point.”

“Good evening to you kind Sir,” I said hovering near to the head of the said Gentleman, I had decided that a height of six inches was probably the optimum size for this introduction.

“What the hell,” he muttered. “I’ve got to give up the booze,” he added pulling a bottle out of his pocket and aiming it at the nearest bin.

“I think the recycling bin would be a far better choice,” I said. “We must all do our bit to save the world.”

“What the hell are you?” he asked looking directly at me.

“I am your Fairy Godmother,” I said, expanding slowly out to my usual height of five foot and a bit, I’m not that accurate with the height.

“Why don’t you bugger off and save the planet instead of bothering with me then,” he snapped.

“Man got the planet into this mess, they shouldn’t expect us to wave our wands and get them out of the shit,” I replied.

“Are you saying you couldn’t do it?” he asked.

“I’m saying that if we just waved our wands and sorted it then humans wont change their ways, and they would carry on making a mess and it would only put things off,” I replied.

“I see,” he said. “So what makes you think I need a Fairy Godmother?”

“You don’t find many people standing in bus shelters in the early hours of the morning hitting their heads against the structure,” I said. “It usually indicates a person who needs help from their Fairy Godmother and that is me.”

“Well, you’re not what I pictured as a Fairy Godmother, I don’t think the normal approaches are going to help me, so you may as well try,” he sighed.

“Should we go somewhere a little less open so you can tell me how you got to this state,” I suggested.

“That could take a bit of explaining,” he sighed. “My home is just round the corner, at least it is my home at the moment, the bank is due to repossess it tomorrow.”

“I think that is something I can sort out,” I smiled, looking at the Head Fairy, she nodded.

“It’s done,” she smiled.

“Lead on,” I said as his phone started making noises. He picked it out of his pocket.

“According to this, my mortgage has been paid off and my home is no longer going to be repossessed!” he said. “I hope this isn’t a joke.”

“The Head Fairy doesn’t do jokes,” I said. “But what she’s done she can always undo, so we had better get on with sorting things out.”

“OK,” he said. “Then you’d better come this way, there is a long story to tell, I just hope you can see a way to put things right.”

by Janice Nye © 2019

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

The Fairy Godmother Part 1

“And you are a Fairy Godmother?” I was asked for what felt like the millionth time. I would have thought the wings were a bit of a give away, but this particular human seemed to be a bit on the dense side.

“Yes,” I smiled. Well, I tried to smile, but it had been a long day, at least forty-eight hours if my internal clock was right.

“Have you always been a Fairy Godmother?” he asked, ushering me past the door that said he was a psychiatrist and towards a couch. I sat cautiously on the edge.

“Please relax, lie back if it helps,” he smiled and I thought of crocodiles and their teeth.

“No one starts off as a Fairy Godmother,” I explained. He was obviously simple.

“How did you start?” he asked.

I decided to skip the biology class, if he didn’t know that sort of thing by now, it was probably best that he stay ignorant about it.

“Well, first I was a cherub,” I explained.

“A cherub,” he wrote in his note book. Somehow it was reassuring that he was putting it all down on paper, easier to destroy the evidence later on.

“And what exactly did you do, as a cherub?” he asked.

“The idea was to flutter round cribs looking angelic,” I explained. He stifled a laugh. “I wasn’t too good as a cherub. Hard to look angelic with black spiky hair.”

“I did wonder,” he smiled.

“I tried a wig of the standard blond curly variety, battered and pinned my hair down so that I could put the wig on. Five minutes later the hair had escaped and the wig was sitting at the end of the spikes like some sort of hat or a frightened guinea pig,” I explained. He couldn’t stop himself laughing this time. Had problems not to laugh myself. “Had problems getting all the copies of the photo’s off the internet. The good fairy helped with that.”

“It got on the internet!” he said.

“Fortunately most people were more interested in the photos of the bad fairy,” I replied.

“Bad fairy!” he parroted.

“She’d got herself worked up, convinced they’d slighted her, rather than just had a bit of a cock-up with the invites. No one knew the Queen was expecting, not even the Queen, right up to the moment when she went into labour, so they were bound to miss a few people out, most of them had the sense to turn up anyway, they weren’t exactly turning old friends away,” I explained.

“So the bad fairy made a fuss?” he asked.

“A fuss! She put a curse on the poor little thing,” I explained. “Something to do with pricking her finger on a spinning wheel and dying. I’m not quite sure how it works but the good fairy turned dying into sleeping for a hundred years and the court asked to sleep with her. I’m not sure how they were organising it, but the good fairy hurried the cherubs out of the place and then cleared up the photos from the internet.”

“I’ve never seen any photos like that,” he said.

“She did a good job,” I said.

“What happened after that?” he asked.

“I took a sideways move into being a tooth fairy,” I replied.

“I don’t suppose the black hair isn’t such a problem as a tooth fairy,” he mused.

“Well, no, if anything it helps you blend into the background,” I agreed.

“So how did it go?” he asked.

“Not too good,” I admitted. “Life as a tooth fairy isn’t as simple as some people think. Most kids are good and go to sleep so you don’t have to hide in the shadows waiting, but I seemed to get the awkward ones. I’d get a list of at least twenty teeth to collect each night, but if you get one who wont go to sleep till the early hours it puts the schedule all to pot.”

“And that causes problems?” he asked. I was beginning to wonder where he was when they handed the brains out, not where the brains were being handed out that was obvious.

“The longer you hide somewhere, the more likely you are to be caught,” I tried to explain. He looked blank. “And of course, if you are delayed at the first house, there is a knock on effect on all the others and you have to get all the teeth collected and the money left before sun up. It’s not so hard in the winter, but as the days get longer, there’s less time to fit all the kiddies in. I think the thing that put the tin lid on that job was when I got cornered by a cat one night, had to nip into a hamster cage to hide. Very talkative things hamsters, the sun was rising by the time I got away and that was nineteen uncollected teeth. So I took another sideways move into being a fairy godmother.”

“How’s that going?” he asked.

“Not so good, truth told,” I sighed.

“What went wrong?” he asked.

“To start off with, there was Fairy Godmother college,” I said.

“You have to go to college?” he asked.

“It’s a responsible job,” I explained. “You have to get it right, peoples futures depend on you.”

“So how did you do at the college?” he asked.

“The fairy in charge didn’t like me,” I said. “She had it in for me from the moment I landed on the roof. Well tried to land on the roof, missed my footing slightly, the tiles were wet, it had been raining.”

“And?” he smiled.

“I fell down the chimney and landed in the main hall in a cloud of soot. It wouldn’t have been so bad, but they were showing some big wigs around the place, I drooped in when they were standing around the fireplace, I don’t think their clothes were helped with a fairly heavy layer of soot or their complexions. Their tempers definitely could have done with something after that,” I explained.

“I can see that that wouldn’t make a good impression,” he said, once he had stopped laughing.

“Things went from bad to worse there, I thought I was going to fail totally, but I scrapped a pass. I don’t think she want me to come back,” I sighed.

“Would you have liked to go back there?” he asked.

“Only if I could burn the dump down and sack the old biddy,” I replied. “The way they taught, it’s amazing that anyone came out of that place sane.”

I think he bit his tongue at that point, there was a very odd expression on his face.

“Have you done much work as a fairy godmother?” he asked.

“I’ve had a few jobs,” I replied.

“And how did they go?” he asked.

“Mixed,” I admitted. “I mean I thought I’d done OK, but they didn’t like my methods and I didn’t produce the results that they wanted.”

“So everyone didn’t end up happy ever after?” he asked.

“I wouldn’t say that,” I replied defensively. “It’s just they were happy with the wrong people that’s all.”

“I think this calls for a bit more detail,” he said sucking the end of his pen.

“This calls for a speedy exit,” I thought as I heard some rather odd footsteps on the stairs. The creature had three legs and was finding the co-ordination a bit difficult as they hadn’t been like that for long. Listening to it swearing as it fell down the stairs for the fourth time, I got the impression he wasn’t going to be prepared to listen to my explanation.

The end came of the psychiatrists pen came off in his mouth and the biro ink was very biter. Coughing and cursing he dashed to the sink. With a click of my fingers I flung open the window, spread my wings and flew out.

“Perhaps she is a Fairy Godmother,” he muttered. “Or perhaps I should speak to one of my colleagues.”

At that moment the door was flung open by the three legged creature who had finally got to the top of the stairs.

“Where is she?” he croaked. The psychiatrist pointed to the window, dilute blue ink dribbling down his chin and staining the front of his shirt.

“OK,” he sighed. “But if you see her around, tell her I’m not amused.” With that he turned around and fell down the stairs, bouncing and cursing with each step.

By Janice Nye © 2019

Brickcroft Nature Reserve October 2019