Chapter 8. Happily Ever After
‘Good idea,’ said Andy thankfully. ‘Here, pass that book Ryan.’
Together they flipped through the pages.
‘What about this page?’
‘That’s no good,’ said Joanne scornfully. ‘That’s a completely different story. It’s just a paddock full of sheep. Imagine being stuck in that. Sheep have no brains at all.’
‘Should suit her quite well then,’ suggested Ryan. Joanne stifled a giggle.
‘Here’s a much better one,’ she said. ‘Right at the end of the book. Look, there’s a prince riding up. A real prince.’
‘Great,’ said Andy in relief. ‘Draw round it quickly before she sees what we’re doing.’
‘ And don’t press too hard,’ added Ryan. ‘The pen is half used up already.’
Joanne took the pen, and holding her tongue firmly between her teeth, she drew carefully around the picture.
‘What are you doing?’ cried Floribunda as she ran over to them. Joanne jerked and the pen went across the heel of the prince’s leather riding boot.
‘I’m preparing the marriage charter,’ said Joanne soothingly. Floribunda looked pleased.
‘I see the populace is assembling to greet me,’ she said in ringing tones as a small crowd gathered.
Joanne had almost completed the outline when Floribunda walked off. Joanne clutched the pen and book and hurried after her.
Andy cringed as several of his classmates called out to him.
‘Who’s your girlfriend, Andy? Where’s she going? A fancy dress party?’
Ryan muffled his occasional explosions of laughter as they slowly made their way across the park. Two small children on tricycles gazed wide eyed at Floribunda as she sailed past them.
‘Look, a princess,’ said one in awed tones.
‘Be of good cheer, peasant,’ instructed Floribunda.
As they approached the rotunda in the park, her confidence grew and with it her demands. She stopped abruptly at a puddle on the footpath and commanded Andy to place his cloak on it so she wouldn’t get her shoes dirty. Andy grudgingly threw down his sweatshirt and muttered to himself as he picked it up, soaked and muddy.
‘Get behind me, wench.’ Floribunda thrust out an arm to stop Joanna, who had tired of Floribunda’s stately pace and wanted to run on ahead. ‘Know thy place,’ she added.
Joanna scowled.
‘I’m beginning to think the witch did the right thing by shutting her up,’ she said in an aggrieved whisper to Ryan. ‘She’s so full of herself.’
‘She can’t help it,’ explained Ryan. ‘It’s the way she was brought up, to think she is better than anyone else.’
‘Well I don’t much fancy the job of being her hand maiden,’ replied Joanne. ‘Frankly I’m beginning to find all this royal procession bit, a trifle tedious.’
‘You’re just jealous.’ Andy overheard her. ‘Because they’re waving at her and not at you.’
Joanna stuck out her tongue.
‘Thank goodness we’ve arrived at last,’ she said in relief as the rotunda came into sight.
‘Is this where we are getting married? Where is the priest? Where are all the royal guests? Has there been a banquet prepared for me? I will not go any further unless you assemble the royal escort. There should be a troop of horsemen to protect me,’ cried Floribunda.
‘We’re taking you to your Prince,’ said Andy firmly.
‘But you are my Prince,’ objected Floribunda.
‘There, done,’ said Joanne, filling in the last section of the outline.
There was a faint crackling noise and a popping sensation in their ears. To the children’s horror, instead of the Princess disappearing into the picture, a young man appeared before them.
‘It’s the prince,’ breathed Joanne.
‘Fair maiden, give ye good day,’ announced the prince, bowing low.
‘Oh heck,’ said Andy. ‘Now we’ve doubled the problem.’
Ryan was impressed.
‘Look at those awesome muscles,’ he muttered to Andy.
‘Oh, a rival prince,’ squeaked Floribunda. ‘Are you going to duel for my hand?’
‘Not likely!’ Andy went pale at the thought.
The Prince caught sight of Floribunda as she stood gazing limpidly from behind Ryan.
‘My Princess! Would that I could earn your hand,’ he said sincerely. ‘Alas I am unworthy.’
He limped over to her and knelt at her feet with bowed head
‘Oh, sir, you are grievously wounded. Was it in some vast battle?’
‘He’s not wounded at all,’ whispered Joanne indignantly to Andy. ‘It’s only where the pen went across his foot.’
‘ I have travelled for many moons to rescue you. Alas,’ said the Prince mournfully. ‘One has been before me.’ He stood up and bowed to Andy.
‘I relinquish my claim,’ he said proudly. ‘The better man has beaten me.’ He turned to gaze at Floribunda. ‘ I will spend the rest of my life wandering in the wilderness, the thoughts of your fair beauty sustaining me through the darkness of the rest of my life.’
‘Wow! Listen to him,’ said Joanne in awed tones.
‘Here, hang on a minute. I don’t want her,’ said Andy.
‘What!’ said the Prince grimly. ‘Do you spurn the hand of the fair Floribunda? If I were not wounded I would make short work of thee.’
Ryan shrieked with laughter and hastily muffled it as the Prince glared at him.
‘No, no, I’m not spurning her. Well, actually I am,’ said Andy frankly. ‘I cannot take her hand because, because…’ he looked imploringly at Ryan.
‘He has sworn to go on a holy crusade,’ said Ryan promptly. ‘He will not take a woman in marriage. He has vowed not to marry until he has completed his crusade.’
‘That’s right,’ agreed Andy in relief.
‘Ah, a holy vow,’ nodded the prince. ‘Yes, of course. You cannot break that.’
‘Perhaps, it is only a suggestion, you would consent to take the Princess Floribunda and care for her safety?’ Andy smiled and gestured towards Floribunda who gave a scream of pleasure and threw herself into the prince’s arms.
Joanne was watching in delight when Andy nudged her fiercely.
‘ Quick, draw round that picture with the sheep,’ he said.
With a sigh Joanne did as she was bid. Nothing happened.
‘Oh no,’ said Ryan. ‘That stupid pen. We have to get someone else to do it.’
He looked around at the crowd and chose a small boy. The boy was gazing with wide eyes at the prince who had apparently appeared from nowhere.
‘Is it magic?’ he asked as Ryan walked over to him.
Ryan took a deep breath.
‘Yes, and it’s top secret. Can you keep a secret?’
The small boy nodded solemnly.
‘Cross my heart and hope to die,’ he said earnestly.
‘You can help do some magic too,’ said Ryan importantly. ‘Just draw round this picture.’ He handed the small boy the pen and the book.
The boy looked at him doubtfully.
‘I won’t get into trouble, will I? My Mum gets cross if I draw on books.’
‘No, you won’t get into trouble,’ Ryan assured him, as Andy yelled impatiently for them to hurry up. ‘Draw here, quickly.’
The small boy carefully drew a wobbly line around the picture. There was a brief humming sound as a doorway to a sheep paddock opened in front of Floribunda and the Prince. A couple of sheep poked their heads out of the doorway.
‘Shoo, shoo.’ Ryan flapped his arms at the sheep. ‘Quick, get the prince and princess through here before this lot get out.’
Taking Floribunda and the prince by the shoulders Andy turned them towards the doorway.
‘If you would come this way, a delightful rural haven awaits you,’ he said.
Floribunda and the Prince were too busy gazing into each other’s eyes to pay any attention
to what was happening around them. Obediently they let themselves be guided over to the doorway.
‘Now shut the book, quick,’ called Andy. Ryan slammed the book shut.
‘Oh look,’ said Joanne. Grabbing the book she opened it again and flipped through the pages. ‘They’re walking in the sheep paddock holding hands. That is so sweet. I wonder how the story ends?’ She turned the page and studied carefully. ‘Hurray!’ she shrieked. ‘They’re getting married. I’m so glad.’
‘Didn’t they get married anyway?’ asked Ryan curiously.
‘No. Before, the book ended with the Prince being turned into a toad as he leapt into the tower room.’
‘What dreadful stories you read,’ said Ryan in horror.
‘They’re not dreadful. They’re good stories’ replied Joanne indignantly.
‘Let’s at least be grateful we didn’t get the witch out of the book,’ said Andy thankfully.
‘Er, no, but there is one slight problem,’ Ryan pointed out.
‘What?’ Andy spun round.
‘There, look.’
Standing in the park, and beginning to attract the attention of the crowd of interested children, was a fluffy white lamb.
‘I’m not going to bother with a lamb,’ said Andy. ‘Come on. Let’s go home. It’s nearly dinnertime.’
‘We can’t just leave it there, can we?’ Joanne asked.
Ryan thought for a minute.
‘I think we can. People will think it escaped from a farm somewhere. No one knows we had anything to do with it.’
‘But what will happen to it?’ demanded Joanne.
‘Someone will take it to a farmer and he will look after it,’ said Andy firmly, banishing thoughts of roast lamb with mint sauce from his mind. ‘It will be perfectly happy. Come on. Last one back’s a rotten banana.’
A Present From Aunt Agatha Page 8