‘Good plan. How are you doing? And how are you and him doing?’
Jill laughed. ‘Desperate for gossip?’
‘We don’t get much of it when it’s just the five of us, so you cannae blame me really.’
Jill shrugged and folded her arms. ‘I don’t know … it’s awkward. I mean, we’ve no really spoken since … and I’ve never really bought into the whole love at first sight thing, you know? I mean, you have to get to know someone first. I dunno. We’ve certainly got a lot to talk aboot.’
‘Aye,’ said Crabbit. ‘I’m sure it’ll work itself out. Anyway,’ she held up the ball, ‘what I wanted to see you aboot was … I reckon this baby will not only help us locate King’s mirror, but since it’s a magical object, it would make a pretty large hole in it.’
‘Now, that is good news,’ smiled Jill.
‘Thought you’d approve. So, I was thinking of taking away King’s favourite toy for good. Wanna come?’
‘Aye,’ said Jill, ‘more than anything, but I’ve got to be the one to do it.’
‘Agreed,’ said Crabbit, tossing the crystal ball into the air and catching it again. ‘Boy, this is gonna be fun!’
But Fate, it seemed, was in one of its moods. For at the exact moment she went to catch the ball, she heard a car horn sound from Ballater Street. She wasn’t used to hearing car horns, so she started and dropped the ball. It hit the ground, rolled along a bit, and went down a drain with a sickening PLOP!
‘Um … oops?’ shrugged Crabbit.
“Oops”?’ screamed Jill. ‘Crabbit, do you realise what you’ve done?’
‘Awright, keep yer knickers on!’ snapped Crabbit. She knelt down and stuck her arm in as far as it would go. ‘Yeuch!’ she cried. ‘You know, they really should cover this thing up. Somebody could break an ankle!’
‘Any joy?’
‘Naw, sorry, I cannae reach it.’ She withdrew her arm, which was covered in gunk, and wiped it on her clothes.
Jill groaned. ‘Here, let me try,’ she insisted. She got on her knees and stuffed her right arm in, but she didn’t fare even so well as Crabbit. From her wrist, her arm was wider than the opening into which she was attempting to stuff it. ‘Ah. Now that’s embarrassing.’
‘Maybe I could wrap bandages really tight around your arm …’
Jill glared at Crabbit and wiped her hand on her.
Their exchange was interrupted by a loud ‘Ribbit!’ from behind them.
They turned to see a dark green frog about the size of a fist.
‘Forgive my eavesdropping,’ said the frog. ‘What is it thou hast lost?’
‘A crystal ball,’ said Jill, ‘which is very, very important to us.’
‘You couldnae nip doon and grab it for us, could you?’ said Crabbit.
‘Indeed, it would be a simple matter,’ said the frog, ‘but I must ask a favour.’
‘Name it,’ said Jill.
‘Upon my return with thy crystal ball, the green one with the strangely shaped eyes must give unto me … a kiss.’
‘Snog a frog that’s after stank-diving?!’ exploded Crabbit. ‘Nae chance!’
‘Crabbit!’ pleaded Jill.
‘Please thyself,’ said the frog, and turned to hop away.
‘Wait,’ said Jill. ‘I’ll kiss you.’
‘I regret, fair lady, that that is not an acceptable option. For my amphibian senses tell me clearly that thou art already betrothed.’
‘I most certainly am not!’ insisted Jill.
‘In thy heart, thou art,’ said the frog. ‘The distinction matters not to me.’
‘Crabbit, promise you’ll kiss the frog!’ insisted Jill. ‘It’s really, really, really important!’
‘Yuck!’ insisted Crabbit, folding her arms.
‘Crabbit, please,’ said Jill. ‘There’s them that would say a kiss fae you isnae worth raffling!’
‘The fair lady must make her own decision,’ the frog informed her flatly.
Crabbit chuckled. ‘Fair lady? Aye, awright then. Just because you’ve got a sense of humour … away and fetch oor ball for us. There’ll be a wee kiss waiting for you when you come back.’
So the frog hopped – PLOP! – down the drain, and returned presently, climbing up the walls of the drain with his back legs and clinging fast to the crystal ball. He returned it to Crabbit with a solemn bow.
‘Thank you,’ said Crabbit.
‘Thou art welcome,’ said the frog. ‘Now … to thy part in our agreement.’
Crabbit grimaced. ‘Do I have to keep my promise to a frog?’
‘Shame on you, Crabbit!’ cried Jill, trying not to smirk. ‘A promise is a promise.’
So Crabbit took the frog in one hand, and holding her long, pointed nose out the way with the other, she raised the frog to her lips to give it a kiss.
Luckily, the Adelphi Centre’s car park was almost deserted, and those few who were around were facing the other way. For as soon as Crabbit’s lips touched the frog’s, there was a blinding flash of blue light … and standing before her was a seven-foot naked black man, handsome as handsome could be.
Slightly stunned and at a loss for something to say, she remained silent for several seconds, before nodding curtly. ‘Awright?’
‘My lady,’ said the man with a bow. ‘It has been many centuries since I enjoyed the benefits of human form. In my kingdom, I was a prince and first in line for the throne, but my scheming younger brother employed the services of an evil witch to bind me in the form of a frog, so that he could be King. I searched and I searched for the solution to my problem, and I finally learned that my only hope to have the spell lifted was for a lady to kiss me of her own volition, and that I must marry her for the transformation to become permanent. I also learned that though I may ask directly for a kiss, I may not explain the reason beforehand, or the spell would be useless.’
‘Oh, my,’ said Crabbit, suddenly becoming very girlish and giggly. ‘Kissing gets a lot done in the magical world, doesn’t it?’
‘Aye,’ said Jill.
‘Um … could this guy borrow your jacket, Jill? He’s a wee bit, um … exposed to the Glasgow weather.’
Jill handed him her jacket, which he had to wear around his middle.
‘I am eternally in thy debt. Be my wife, that I might never have to return to the form of a frog.’
‘Aye, awright, then,’ said Crabbit. ‘It’s no like I’ve had any better offers.’
‘Well, yous pair have a lot to talk aboot,’ said Jill. ‘I’ve got to get back to work. Meet me here aboot five, okay? We’ll go do that thing wi’ the mirror.’
The mirror knew they were coming and it knew why. It also knew there was nothing it could do about it, except torment them a bit first. It heard them picking the lock and creeping into the room.
‘Well, if it isn’t Frankenstein’s Monster and Mrs Blobby. And who have they brought with them for company? A frog that the slightly uglier one turned into a man. Nicely done. Between you and me, I can’t think of any other earthly way you could pull. Since marrying for love is overrated, I say congratulations.’
‘Tread carefully,’ said the Frog Prince. ‘I am certain it is a demon!’
The mirror laughed. ‘Well, duh! So … what can I do for you three ladies?’
‘Die,’ Jill informed it, simply.
‘Long time, no see, my dear Jill-atinous blob.’ The mirror cackled. ‘Get it? ‘Jill-atinous?’
Jill looked it in the eye. This pathetic creature, this mere object, had once driven her to attempt suicide. Now she was the one with the power. She finally felt no fear.
‘Your words can’t bring me down, mirror. Not anymore.’
‘Oh, but they will. Oh, no the day. Your heid’s too full of thoughts of destroying me, your lardy body too full of adrenaline and excitement. No, my taunts won’t get you now, but they’ll get you. They’ll get you when you’re walking down the street and some ned shouts something nasty. They’ll get you in quiet moments when there
’s nothing much happening at work. They’ll get you last thing at night before you go to sleep. These are the times your head will fill with my singing: “Jilly’s got a ten-ton-bum, Doo-dah, Doo-dah.”
‘You see, you can destroy this form, this mirror, but I’m not worried, because I’ll live on. I have always existed, and will always exist in the darkest corners of everybody’s soul.’
‘Nice speech,’ said Crabbit, unimpressed. ‘Ye been rehearsing that?’
The mirror had no answer.
‘You know,’ said Crabbit, idly tossing and catching the crystal ball, ‘you could’ve saved us all a lot of trouble if you’d just said, “It’s a matter of opinion” in the first place.’
‘Aye,’ said the mirror, ‘but that wouldn’t have been much fun, though, would it?’
‘Do it, Jill!’ cried Crabbit, tossing her the crystal ball.
Jill caught it and pitched it into the centre of the glass in one smooth motion.
The mirror shattered.
The piercing sound of glass shattering faded into silence.
‘Thou hast done a good deed,’ remarked the Frog Prince.
‘Nicely done, Jill,’ said Crabbit. ‘How do you feel?’
‘Free,’ said Jill. ‘Free for the first time in my life.’
Crabbit smiled. ‘Gaun yersel’.’
Jill stepped forward to the remains of the mirror, pulled a tissue from her handbag, and stooped to pick up a sharp shard, which she carefully wrapped up and put it in her handbag.
‘Souvenir?’ asked Crabbit.
‘I need to keep a bit. I’ll stick it to the wall somewhere I can ayeways see it. I need it to remind me of something.’
‘Gonnae share?’
‘It’s just that … believe it or not, the mirror did me a favour. See, that voice in my heid, that says all them horrible things … it’s been there since long before I met the mirror. But noo I know where it’s coming from. So I can tell it to sod off!’
King arrived home to be met with the uneasy feeling he was not alone.
‘Who’s there?’ he demanded.
‘Only us,’ said Dragonman, leaping out from a cupboard.
He was joined by Nono, Glaikit and Dagger, emerging silently from their hiding places.
King was desperately afraid. He had never seen such a sight before as these … creatures: an oval-headed dwarf whose head spun wildly as he cried ‘Nonononono!’ in an alien voice; a man who seemed more crocodile than man; a man who seemed more gorilla than man; and what his mind could only describe as a vampire with knives for hands.
‘Wha– What do you want?’ stammered King. ‘You want m-money? You can have it!’
‘Oh, you poor, confused fellow,’ said Dragonman. ‘We have no interest in money. You tried to kill our brother. In fact, in a sense, you succeeded. He was effectively dead for some time. In our family, we have a code that says we don’t just walk away from something like that.’
‘Yeah!’ snarled Dagger.
‘Nononononononono!’ Nono agreed vigorously.
King backed off. ‘You stay away from me, you hear? I am a very powerful man. I can have you all shot!’
‘You were a very powerful man,’ Dragonman corrected, ‘thanks to your mirror. Our friends have dealt with that. Now you are nothing but a pretty face, and in just a wee minute, you’ll be nothing. Hold him down, boys.’
Nono and Glaikit held King, pinning his arms and legs. King struggled, but for all his strength, he was no match for the Freaks.
Dragonman sprayed something on his face, which numbed it. ‘That is so it won’t hurt much,’ he explained. ‘We’re not completely devoid of mercy. Dagger …?’
In a flurry of movement lasting less than a second, Dagger drew a roadmap of scars upon King’s face.
Dragonman then put circles of flame-retardant material over King’s eyes, and breathed fire upon him until he was covered in blisters.
King realised that they were not trying to kill him, or even torture him physically, but he would never be the bonniest man in Glasgow again. In fact, he would never be in the top half-million. He wished that they hadn’t numbed him, because then the physical agony would distract him from the mental anguish of losing the only thing he cared about.
He screamed, ‘Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!’
And Nono said, ‘Yes.’
CHAPTER 16
Liz Cameron’s favourite haunt was a pub in Glasgow with very expressive décor.
The cushions on the seats were blue. The cover of the pool table was blue. Nearly every square inch of wall was covered with pictures of Rangers legends, or a signed Rangers strip behind glass, or a Union Flag.
There was no need for any sign to say, ‘No Football Colours’: everyone knew as soon as they walked in which football colours were and weren’t welcome.
The moment Rapunzel stepped in, she was the focus of many stares.
‘Awright, boys!’ cried Liz, stretching upwards to put a hand on Rapunzel’s shoulder. ‘This is my future daughter-in-law, Rapoodle!’
Rapunzel opened her mouth to correct her, then thought better of it.
Those who had been staring at Rapunzel grunted, then went back to watching the match.
‘Look at that, we’re late,’ grumbled Liz (who was already deep into her day’s drinking). She shook a fist at the giant screen, shouted ‘Intae them!’ then waddled up to the screen and squinted until she knew what the score was, then waddled to a barstool and climbed onto it.
Rapunzel sat down gracefully beside her.
‘So you’re marrying oor Jack?’ the bartender asked Rapunzel.
‘Yes, that’s right,’ she replied.
‘Wouldnae have thought you were his type,’ he said, conversationally. ‘Still, life’s full of wee surprises, eh?’
An old man with a bright red nose, who had been reading a newspaper in a corner, suddenly threw it down in disgust. ‘Away back to yer ain country!’ he cried, and stormed out.
‘Och, don’t mind him,’ said Liz. ‘He’s a pillock, that yin.’
Rapunzel stared into her glass. ‘It was very good of you to invite me out for drinks, Mrs Cameron.’
‘Och, you just call me Liz, Hen,’ said Liz. ‘Or Maw, if ye like.’
Suddenly Rapunzel felt something she had not felt in a long time, had hoped she would never feel again.
She looked around and saw the short, hooded figure disappearing through the door.
‘Excuse me,’ she said to Maw and left the pub. She followed Rumpel-stiltskin to a deserted alleyway.
‘You came,’ said Rumpelstiltskin. ‘Are you not afraid?’
‘If you have something to say, say it,’ said Rapunzel.
‘I have come a long way to find you. Or, rather … to find my daughter. Surrender her now and you need not die.’
‘I’m not afraid of you,’ said Rapunzel. ‘My daughter and I are protected by the King of the Beanstalk and his magical sword! More than this, I know your name!’
Rumpelstiltskin backed off. ‘You overestimate your defences. One man and one weapon do not an army make, and soon that word will lose its power over me. Then I will take what is mine, and spill the blood of any who are in my way.’
‘Haw!’ came a voice from behind Rapunzel.
She turned around to see Maw bearing down fast upon Rumpelstiltskin. ‘That’s my future daughter-in-law-to-be, gonnae be, and that,’ she roared. ‘You leave her alane, or I’ll rip oor yer insides and feed them to ye, right?’
With that, she kicked Rumpelstiltskin so hard he would not have flown harder into the wall behind him if he were a football.
‘I’ll be back,’ gasped the winded Rumpelstiltskin, and vanished.
It was a glorious day. The sun was beating down on Glasgow Green, and every breath of air became a smile.
Near the edge of the park was a tree so perfect for sitting in, Ella had always called it ‘the Perfect Tree’. The angle of the trunk was so gentle one could almost walk up to a
n alcove which seemed designed for picnicking in, and could seat two comfortably.
‘It was nicer afore they chopped off all the higher branches,’ grumbled Ella. ‘But this tree’s still my favourite part of Glasgow.’
‘Aye,’ said Harry. ‘It’s nice.’
They could hear passers-by saying, ‘Oh, look! That’s Harry Charming!’ and, ‘Och, leave him alane, he’s up a tree wi’ his bird.’
They sat in silence awhile, stroking each other’s fingers.
‘So … what kinda music are ye into or that?’ said Harry.
‘Mozart,’ said Ella, blushing slightly. ‘I know, I know. I’m seventeen years old and I’m no a toff, so what am I doing into classical music?’
‘Ye can like what ye like,’ shrugged Harry. ‘Doesnae matter.’
‘It’s just … he takes me places in my mind nae other music does, you know? Places where it’s okay to be me. Does that make any sense?’
‘Aye,’ said Harry, smiling. ‘Aye, it does. I’m into Rage Against the Machine and a’ that.’
‘It’s great how we’re that different, isn’t it?’ said Ella.
‘Aye.’
Ella breathed the warm, fresh air, and felt totally relaxed and happy. ‘I love it here,’ she said. ‘We should get married here!’
‘What?’
‘Outdoor wedding, here in Glasgow Green! That would be so perfect!’
‘Aye, but … ye cannae trust the weather in Glasgow to stay like this, can ye?’
‘We’ll get a giant marquee or something! Come on, it’ll be beautiful.’
Harry smiled. He looked around him at the green grass, the trees, the children playing, the Clyde in the background and the People’s Palace in the distance.
He couldn’t think of a single reason to disagree.
There was no small amount of awkwardness between Snowy and Jill as they sat eating sandwiches on a bench in Buchanan Street.
Snowy had a distant, haunted look about him that worried Jill.
‘What are you thinking?’ she asked.
‘About being dead,’ he answered honestly. ‘About how some day we’ll all be dead and there’s nothing we can do about it. About how I’ve been dead, but I still couldn’t tell you what it’s like. About how it would never have happened if I wasn’t so stupid.’
Glasgow Fairytale Page 15