by Sky Sommers
For now, I am happy that all that teenage angst is finally directed at someone else for a change. Not that I won’t see any of it. I’ll see plenty. Until she marries, that is. But maybe, just maybe after today I’ll get a bit less attitude than before.
Ella
Still June 12th
She sold us for food.
My Godmother.
Or…I should say…Mother.
The woman I knew as Aunt Mellie is actually my Mother.
Lydia Lyman.
That’s right. Mother’s name was Lydia before she became Mellie.
I can still only think of her as Mellie.
I’ll start at the beginning.
Mellie waltzed in, heard my news, squealed my ears off. Then, without one kind word and without even hearing out the whole plan or any alternative ones, she trudged back down to the kitchen and demanded that Grace drag me in front of the king.
Subtle, she’s not.
Of course, Mellie and Grace got into a fight. When Mellie asked why stepmother was helping me Grace parried with why wasn’t she. If only she knew that Godmother is not as well connected as she would like everyone to believe. Somehow, the discussion got to be about all the kids, not just my future. I guess these two have axes to grind.
When Grace accused Mellie of sending Hans and Greta into the woods in wintertime when they were five, I thought she had lost it. I kept thinking - that was not Mellie, we didn’t know Mellie then. I kept thinking - what was Grace talking about, the twins had wandered off. They were lost in the wintry woods. Mother was beside herself and how overjoyed she was when they came back. And they were so lucky to have escaped Grizelda who almost ate them.
Except…Mellie didn’t protest.
When Grace said Mellie forced her eldest daughter to seduce a nobleman, it made me cringe. Mellie had told me to do the same thing. I still kept thinking - if Mellie has children of her own, where are they? Why have we never met them in the last three years? What has happened to them?
Light only dawned when Grace said Mellie came back FOUR MONTHS after SHE had left US.
I thought - in all of the three years we have known her, Mellie has never been away for four months.
It was Mother who left us for four months.
She never came back.
Mellie came and got us.
I thought surely, Grace was out of her mind or delirious on the kitchen fumes or something.
But Mellie didn’t deny that accusation either and then she said the strangest thing - that she only did it because she wanted what’s best for her kids. She said she never meant to leave us for four months.
Best for her kids?!?
HER kids.
Then it dawned on me.
WE are her long lost children and I know exactly what happened to us.
She got rid of us.
First, she abandoned us.
TWICE.
Then, she got rid of us.
How is leaving a ten-year-old to look after two five-year-olds for months best for them?!?
And abandoning us AGAIN five years later?
And she instructed ME to go to the seaside with John and his lecherous father and abandoned me there as well!
Mothers should look out for their children, not suggest they seduce noblemen or send them away to live with strangers!
I always thought Mellie and Mother were brought up by the same parents and that explained why they were so similar in how they treated us kids. Mellie taking away the twins’ toys to ‘prepare them for school’ and making them sleep on the floor and kicking me out. Repeatedly. Mother abandoning us to follow her lovers. Mellie abandoning me in Ailmsworth to pursue her beau.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, it gets worse.
I’m the granddaughter of a cannibalistic witch!
According to Grace, Grizelda the witch is Mellie’s Mother! Well, Lydia’s, but…that explains why Mellie told Grizelda to help me, not requested her to.
The good bit of news is, Grizelda is not a cannibal. According to Grace, Mellie lied about that, too. To everyone. All Grizelda did was save Hans and Greta from freezing and starving to death in the woods five years ago. Mother turned against Grizelda and lied about what had really happened. She made everyone believe that Grizelda tried to eat the twins. Her own Mother!
So I did remember things correctly when I remembered Mother looking at Hans with loathing. I can’t believe she sent the twins into the wintry woods on purpose… which, again, she didn’t deny…
And now I know that Mother, too has magic powers. Her power is glamour. She looks different to everyone. She can glamour perfect strangers.
But not Grace. Grace can see through her camouflage.
I guess ‘Aunt Mellie’ was born when Hans didn’t recognise Mother on her return.
Maybe Mellie expected us to recognise her for who she was because we are her family?
Except we didn’t.
Ever since she abandoned us for those four long months, Hans and I see her as a stranger. As Mellie.
Greta has always been cagey around Mellie. Maybe she senses something being amiss?
But why can Grace see through her disguise?
Wait…Grace hates Mellie, just like I intensely dislike Betty and well…used to dislike Grace. And I can hear them both. I could also hear John two years ago. I guess I really was in love with him back then.
Children are supposed to love their parents.
Mellie expected her children to see through her glamour when she returned.
Maybe Mellie’s power is triggered just like mine? Either by love or hate forming an emotional bond?
When you love or hate Mellie, you can see through her glamour but when you’re a stranger and indifferent, you get glamoured?
Hans can’t see Mother, he sees Mellie or whoever Mellie wants him to see. That means his love for her has died. No wonder. He is still sore about Mother leaving us.
Greta…maybe she still loves Mother and can see some familiar things she can’t explain about Mellie and that’s why she’s cagey? I’ll have to ask her. Subtly.
I see Mellie, not Mother.
If I loved Mother, I would be able to see Mother, not Mellie.
If I still loved Mother, I would be able to read her mind.
Wait…Mellie hums whenever she is around me and it always distracts me like you wouldn’t believe.
Maybe I can still read her mind and that’s why she hums?
Maybe she has been trying to prevent me from reading her mind and finding out who she really is?
Could I…could I still love her a little?
Is that why she evicted me first? And why she never wanted to take me back? And why she has been buying me expensive things as Mellie? Because she was trying to make sure I didn’t hate her? I loved her for her presents. Which strengthened our bond. That’s why she hums whenever I’m near. I bet if she didn’t I could read her mind…
Of course, Mellie told Grace her sob-story, left home at fifteen, had to get a job, blah blah blah. The worrisome part was that I seem to be repeating Mother’s mistakes. Dally with a gentleman, end up with a kid. Dally the second time, another kid. I almost felt bad for her. Almost.
Right up until the point when she sold Hans and Greta for food. Grace offered to take the twins in, full-time. In exchange - as if that kindness was not a gift enough - Mellie wanted to dine at our restaurant twice a year for free. They struck a deal.
Sold!
What the hell did Grizelda do to her to make Mellie so…so…self-absorbed?
And why did Father and Grace take us in at all?
Peter.
Not Father.
Peter.
Peter and Grace Goodall. Why would you take in kids who are not your own?
Well, besides t
he obvious slavery.
Peter and I are not related. Hans and Greta and I are all children of someone called Oz. So, I guess while Mellie dallied with a few gentlemen, all us kids have the same father.
I’ll have to think long and hard about whether to tell Hans and Greta the truth. It’s bad enough that I know it. The twins could have the benefit of having a proper childhood. If I don’t say anything.
Mellie doesn’t deserve to be a Mother.
She sold her own kids for food.
I told Grace I will milk Mellie for everything she’s got. While I can. Pretty soon she’ll be asking me for favours, I’m quite sure.
Godmother my elbow.
Grace is more of a Fairy Godmother than Mellie ever was.
Grace doesn’t give a damn what other people think of her, but is worried about me and the other kids living happily ever after. She is even ok if the kids hate her a little for being strict and demanding. She equates that to being a good parent. She is even ok if all the kids continue to love Mellie from afar. Grace says she’s used to being the bad guy. That she can take it.
I guess not all stepmothers are evil.
I wonder what happened to Grace to make her that…accommodating?
Everybody has a story.
Mellie called her a powerful witch.
Maybe she is, if she’s not worried about what kind of powers Hans and Greta might develop.
Knowing what I know about Mellie now - that not everything is at it seems - I have grave doubts Grace is or ever was having an affair with the King. She might just be his step-sister and they are very close, if she lets him touch her face. And if Father…Peter didn’t believe it either, if he trusts her, maybe there is a good reason for that.
Chapter 28. The Queen
Grace
Next thing I know, Belle is standing in my kitchen, hands on her hips, giving me the Look.
What is it, drop by Grace’s kitchen morning?
I don’t curtsy.
Because I just don’t curtsy when we’re not in public.
‘Anything the matter, Your Majesty?’ I ask my business partner, putting away my cup.
Belle glares at me.
‘How are our inventions selling?’ I try a new tack.
‘I have not come here to talk about our business venture, although from what I could see outside, the washing machine prototype is working just fine. We’ll have to mass manufacture that as soon as possible. Everybody has wells. And clothes to wash.’
When Belle realised she could pass off our inventions as her own, we had a small business going. Over the past three years we’ve earned a fair amount of money, from designing and testing ‘Belle’s inventions. I’m ok with that. It helps us keep the house and pay our suppliers and put Ella through school, while Belle mass manufactures and markets the things she claims she or her father have invented. We earn modest royalties. After all, she’s the inventor’s daughter.
‘If you’re not here to talk business, why are you here?’ I ask.
‘Isn’t there anywhere more…civilised where we can talk?’ Belle enquires and wrinkles her nose.
‘I’m here. You’re here,’ I shrug.
‘Fine,’ she says, ‘I would like to know what you are up to,’ she says, clasping her hands in front of her as if she’s about to give a full-blown lecture.
‘Up to?’ I echo, putting a pot on the stove. ‘At the moment, I’m trying to make breakfast and would appreciate it if people would stop dropping by my kitchen whenever they fancy…’ I mumble.
‘Oh, but you can drop by the palace anytime you like?’ Belle spits.
Fair point.
‘I don’t…’
‘You have four children, right?’ she asks.
‘You have come all this way to ask something that is common knowledge?’ I retort.
‘Why do you think I only had the one child?’ Belle smooths her completely flat stomach.
So did I. She knows darn well I didn’t pop out all four.
‘I had only one, so that my husband would still chase me and not girls half my age who are prettier than me.’ She eyes me up and down, ‘Or twice my age, rumoured to be related to him, which I hardly believe, and nowhere as beautiful, as it may be.’
‘We are about the same age,’ I point out. As far as I know she is 36 and I’m 38, so there isn’t much of a difference.
‘Your age doesn’t matter. It doesn’t entitle you to my husband,’ Belle snaps.
‘Beast? You think I’m after the Beast? You are joking, right?’ I say.
Belle looks dead serious. ‘All those secret rendezvous in the Palace gardens? Do you think I’m so blind that I won’t notice my husband skulking around with you every time you come to visit?’ Belle huffed. ‘And don’t call him Beast! I’m the only one who calls him that!’
You and the entire population.
‘Fine, I’ll call him Tom, I’m more used to that name anyway,’ I say.
‘You will call him His Majesty,’ Belle snaps. ‘And it doesn’t matter that you used to run around naked around his swimming pool when you were three!’
It seems that somehow it does, though.
All part of the relocation lore, but if it helps to be on first-name basis with the ruling monarch, who was I to argue?
‘So I’d VERY much appreciate it if you’d keep your mitts off my husband!’ Belle yells.
That’s it! Nobody raises their voice at me in my own kitchen!
‘Oh, give it up, Belle,’ I snap back and she sits down into a chair out of pure shock at being called by her first name. ‘I’m not after Tom, I’m not after anyone. If you must know, I’m trying to save the royal family considerable embarrassment. That’s why Tom and I have been meeting.’
‘Embarrassment?’ Belle’s hand flies to her mouth as I nod. ‘What has he done?’ she whispers and closes her eyes.
‘Not Tom. Your son. The whole being royal thing has gone to the prince’s head and he’s been…well, I don’t know how to put it nicely…so I won’t…he’s been doing what you’ve suspected the Beast…Tom of doing, although he doesn’t, he’s loyal to you even if you’re blind to it, but anyway… Back to your son - the problem is, junior has been chasing every skirt he sees and not only chasing, but…ahem…having them, too.’
Belle colours to her roots.
‘This time, it’s worse. He’s been careless enough to get a girl pregnant,’ I put the last nail in the boy’s coffin.
Belle pales, ‘Do you know who the girl is?’ she squeezes out.
I nod upstairs.
‘Your daughter?’ Belle rises and starts pacing my kitchen. ‘Eldest, I presume. Are you sure?’ Belle narrows her eyes. ‘Claims have been made before…’
‘Oh, so you do know about your son’s philandering?’ I incline my head and she colours to her roots again. Even the tip of her nose is pink.
Yup, I would look like that too if other people knew my secrets.
Belle sighs and sinks into the chair, ‘First it was the maids. Then some aristo girls.’
I clear my throat, ‘Be that as it may, Tom and I, we are trying to get the prince to fall in love with Ella so that their kid would grow up with both his parents. AND there isn’t a loveless marriage AND the royal family doesn’t have to face major embarrassment,’ I say. And maybe it will help the prince forget his philandering ways.
‘Really? And Tom is fine about…about all of it?’ Belle looks thoughtful.
‘Well, the royal family is quite outspoken about family values and the rate of births being as low as they are...’ I start when she cuts me off.
‘She’s not considering getting rid of the child, is she?’ she asks.
Since she might know already, I fess up, ‘She did until she got a better bargain. You don’t want your grandchild growing up nameless an
d here, do you?’ I gesture around the kitchen.
‘Of course not!’ Belle spats.
‘Well then, you know what we have to do,’ I say.
‘Do you have the audacity to tell your Queen what to do?’ Belle goggles.
You’re not MY queen. MY Queen is Queen Elizabeth II of Windsor, but she’s back on Earth, in London, or maybe in Balmoral, but anyway she’s the only one I have any allegiances to. Not a fairytale character who had to get permission from another fairy-tale character to marry into royalty.
Out loud I say, ‘No, m’am. I just have the audacity to think our leaders should listen to their loyal subjects.’
Luckily, they don’t have beheadings here.
I hope.
When she does not respond, I ask, ‘Do you have any other suggestions?’
‘Yes, indeed, I do,’ Belle says and proceeds to lay out her plan.
I nod when she’s finished. The classic fairy-tale. Belle added losing the slipper so he can search for the girl whom it fits. The rest - finding her in three days, rescuing her from an ‘evil stepmother’, a quickie marriage within a week so the baby can arrive one month ‘early’ - she left just like I had already planned.
‘It could work,’ I say. ‘If we can find the shoes that would fit only her and nobody else…’
If that was possible in the fairy-tale, then why not in the real world?
‘I’ll leave that to you,’ Belle waves her hand, ‘I’m sure with your mind you will be able to create something…’
I’ll think about that particular problem tomorrow.
For now, Belle is on my side and I’d like to keep it that way. ‘It would help the image of the royal family if she came from humble beginnings,’ I say.
Who knew that being bullied and called names at school would come in handy someday? As would Ella’s complaints that she does most of the chores at home.
‘You don’t mind being labelled as the evil stepmother in all of this?’ Belle narrows her eyes.
I shake it off, ‘If Ella is in on it, so she and I will both know I helped her, not harmed her.’
And if she’ll parrots no lies later, unlike her maman, maybe I won’t be remembered as evil. After a while.