Wish List (How To Be The Best Damn Faery Godmother In The World (Or Die Trying) Book 2)

by Helen Harper

  Rose tossed her head. ‘I ain’t telling you nuthing.’ Her eyes flickered towards the back mirror before sliding away again.

  Suspicion flooded through me and I turned round to stare behind us. There was nothing there – yet. I did my best to squash the sudden flare of red-hot fury that zipped through me. ‘Hand it over, Rose.’

  She blinked innocently. ‘Hand what over?’

  ‘The mobile phone you’re hiding in your pocket,’ I said. ‘Give it to me.’

  Rose wrinkled her nose. ‘It’s mine. You can’t take it.’

  ‘I can do what the hell I want. You are putting my life at risk as well as your own.’

  She raised her shoulders. ‘I don’t care. I don’t know you from Adam.’

  Fine. ‘You’re also putting Pumpkin’s life at risk.’ Right on cue, the dog whined again.

  Rose’s eyes shifted. ‘Feck you.’ She reached into the pocket of her dressing gown and pulled out the phone.

  I grabbed it from her. ‘This is how you “invited” them?’ I asked.

  She jerked her head. ‘You don’t even have to dial a number and speak to anyone these days. All you have to do is turn on your phone and half the world can find you if they want to.’ She lifted her eyes heavenward and sighed. ‘Isn’t technology amazing?’

  ‘Wonderful,’ I said flatly.

  I wound down the window and threw out the phone. Just then another car appeared at the top of the hill behind us. I twisted my wand, aiming it to the left of the hedge that lined the narrow road. There was the sound of splintering wood, followed by a loud creak; a moment later an oak tree crashed through the hedge and fell with a groan onto the road. That would slow those bastards down.

  Rose gaped. ‘You really are a witch,’ she said.

  ‘Faery godmother.’ I restarted the engine. ‘As I said.’

  She shook her head. ‘Seven decades I’ve been alive, and I never could have conceived of such a thing. Why haven’t I heard about your existence before? Are you the only faery godmother in the world? Why come to me?’

  ‘Those are all valid questions,’ I said, ‘none of which I’m inclined to answer right at this moment.’ Especially as she wouldn’t remember any of the answers.

  ‘Humph.’ Rose turned away. ‘So do I get a wish then?’

  ‘Yep.’ I smiled as I saw the car behind us come to an abrupt halt behind the fallen oak tree. Both men got out and I was pleased to note that there was considerable shaking of fists.

  Rose wound down her window, stuck out her hand and flipped them her middle finger.

  ‘I thought you wanted them to catch you,’ I said.

  ‘Only so I could kill them before they killed me,’ she answered matter-of-factly. ‘Something which your meddling has made considerably harder.’ She fiddled with the gold band around her middle finger. ‘Now, about that wish.’

  I pulled my attention away from the still-furious goons. ‘Yes?’

  Rose smiled. ‘I wish for you to feck off and leave me in peace.’

  I shook my head, pressing my foot down on the accelerator. ‘It doesn’t work like that.’

  For an old woman, she managed an extraordinarily good example of a toddler’s pout. ‘But that’s my wish.’

  ‘Tough. My absence is not what your heart truly desires. I’m here to give you what you really want, Rose, whether you like it or not.’

  She set her chin at a mutinous angle. ‘There aren’t many people I despise,’ she said, ‘but you’re getting close to the top of my list.’

  Lucky old me.

  Chapter Ten

  I was pretty certain that most other faery godmothers would have simply granted Rose her wish and promptly forgotten that she ever existed. It wouldn’t look good on a report but no one could argue that they hadn’t done what their client wanted. The trouble was that I wasn’t most faery godmothers. I didn’t merely want everyone to think that I was the best, I wanted to be the best. And that meant doing everything I could to help Rose out, even if she was a cantankerous old biddy with a snarling beast of a dog by her side.

  ‘Where are we going?’ Rose asked me for the umpteenth time. She seemed to have perfected putting the exact amount of whine into her voice to create optimum annoyance levels. ‘You might be a faery godmother but you should know that elder abuse is a serious fecking issue. You can’t kidnap an old-age pensioner like me. I’m vulnerable.’ She gestured at herself. ‘I mean, look at me. I ain’t dressed for this. I’m wearing nothing more than a bathrobe!’

  ‘I’m taking you somewhere I can keep an eye on you.’

  ‘I ain’t gonna be your prisoner!’ Rose yelled. Her sudden change in volume stirred Pumpkin into another series of yips and barks.

  I rubbed my forehead. I definitely had a headache coming on. ‘You’re not my prisoner,’ I said.

  ‘Then let me go!’

  ‘Not until we’ve sorted out this whole mess. Together.’

  ‘So I am your fecking prisoner then!’

  I thought about that for a moment then I shrugged. ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Alright. You’re my prisoner. Now do what I say and keep the noise down.’

  She harrumphed loudly and adjusted her dressing gown.

  I sped up; the sooner we reached Colchester the better. The only good thing about all the hours I had to spend on the motorway instead of doing something more productive was that I had plenty of time to think and plan. Assuming that at some point Pumpkin and Rose were kind enough, or tired enough, to grant me some peace.

  ***

  After speeding most of the way, I finally reached my destination around mid-afternoon. Rose’s head was tilted back in the same position it had been for the last two hours. Her white, wispy curls were flat against her forehead and a trickle of drool snaked down from the corner of her mouth. Pumpkin hadn’t moved from his curled-up position on the back seat for some time but, thanks to his incessant snoring, I’d not been able to forget his presence.

  My neck was stiff and sore and I was, to coin a phrase from a certain dark-haired Devil’s Advocate, very, very grouchy. It was just as well that I’d managed to call Vincent as I drove and that he was already waiting on his doorstep.

  Leaving Rose and Pumpkin to slumber on for a few more moments, I unclipped my seatbelt and got out. Somehow, the ex-drug dealer looked far older than he had the last time I’d seen him, but at least he had some colour in his cheeks and his frame had filled out a little. Regular eating does that to a person.

  ‘Miss Faery Godmother!’ he bellowed. I winced. ‘How are you?’

  ‘I’d be better if you didn’t advertise what I am to the whole world,’ I told him. ‘Faery godmothers are supposed to be incognito. Just because I messed up last month, and the memory magic that makes other humans forget what I am didn’t work on you, doesn’t mean that you can shout out my existence to all your neighbours.’

  He waved a dismissive hand. ‘Pffffft. Even if any of my neighbours heard me, they wouldn’t believe it. And not because of what you are but because of what I am.’ He gave me a wide, yellow-toothed smile. ‘Now, tell more about this favour that I can do for you.’

  The obvious pleasure in his face was more than enough reason for me to frown at him. ‘While I appreciate your help in many ways and for many reasons, I’m not granting you a wish in return for this one favour, Vincent. I can give you money or help you out in some way, but you’ve already had one wish from me that you shouldn’t have received. You’re not getting another.’

  ‘Aw, Saffron.’

  I folded my arms. ‘I mean it. I appreciate your help but there is a limit.’

  Vincent fluttered his eyelashes. I suppose he thought it made him look adorable but unfortunately it gave him more of a serial-killer edge. ‘Even if my wish was to help someone else?’

  ‘Is it?’

  He grinned. ‘Nah. I want to know what this week’s lottery numbers will be.’

  ‘Not gonna happen.’ I dug into my pocket and pulled out some crumpled notes. ‘Ei
ghty quid. Take it or leave it.’

  Vincent swiftly snatched the money out of my hand. ‘Cheers, love.’ Before he took my money, he should have asked me what I wanted him to do. It wouldn’t have taken him long to work out that I’d nabbed myself a fabulous bargain.

  ‘You’re welcome. All you have to do is look after a sweet old lady and her cuddly pet pooch for a couple of days. She’s in a spot of danger and I need her kept safe and out of sight.’

  Vincent nodded. ‘I can do that. Except…’

  ‘Except what?’

  He pointed down the street. ‘Do you mean that old lady?’ he enquired. ‘The one that just got out of your car and is legging it that way?’

  Fuck a puck. I swung my head to the left and immediately spotted Rose about thirty metres away, her dressing gown flapping around her calves as she ran. I muttered a curse and pulled out my wand, twisting it in her direction with an irritated flourish. A moment later, the cotton belt around her waist came loose. She tripped on it, splaying out her arms as the pavement rushed up to meet her.

  For a split second I was tempted to let her deal with the consequences but then I flicked my wand again and cushioned her fall. Pumpkin, who’d been cradled in her arms, squeezed out from underneath her and turned his rotund body towards me.

  ‘Did that dog just give you a dirty look?’ Vincent enquired curiously.

  ‘Nothing would surprise me any more.’ I rolled my eyes and stomped towards the hapless pair.

  ‘Rose,’ I said, ‘running away from me isn’t going to help matters. I’m here to help you.’

  ‘I don’t want your help.’ She was still lying face down on the pavement so her words were somewhat muffled. Pumpkin whined and nosed her arm before returning to glare ferociously at me.

  ‘Your life is in danger, Rose. I can do something about that if you want me to.’

  From her supine position, she huffed. ‘Because you’re my fecking faery godmother?’

  I smiled. ‘Exactly.’

  ‘People like me don’t get faery godmothers. Life ain’t like that.’

  ‘Life is like that.’ I reached down to help her to her feet. Pumpkin growled and bared his teeth, so I changed my mind and stepped away. ‘I can’t kill anyone for you, Rose, but I can get those assassins to stop harassing you if that’s what you want.’

  She sniffed and waved her arm. ‘Give me a hand.’

  I tried again. This time Pumpkin retreated and allowed me to pull her up. She brushed herself down and tightened the belt on her dressing gown.

  ‘I don’t want them to back off,’ she said, avoiding my eyes. ‘I want them to come at me so I can kill them myself. I can take care of my own dirty work.’ She glanced over my shoulder. ‘Who’s that shifty-looking fella who’s staring at us?’

  ‘My … uh…’ I grimaced. Vincent wasn’t a friend, or a colleague. And he was definitely shifty looking. ‘My acquaintance,’ I finished feebly. ‘He’ll look after you until I return.’

  She snapped her head towards me. ‘Why? Where are you going?’

  I sighed. Much as my life would be easier if I could sort out Rose and her problems right now, I had other things I had to do. ‘I’ve got to get back to my office. Once I’ve gone, you won’t remember who I am and we’ll need to do this all over again next time I see you.’ I was hoping, however, that her subconscious would twinge just enough to tell her that she could start to trust me.

  ‘I don’t like the look of him.’

  ‘He’s not as dodgy as he appears.’ I was lying, of course.

  It didn’t help when Vincent marched up, his arms swinging and a maniacal grin plastered all over his face. ‘Hello, dear,’ he cooed. ‘My name is Vincent and I’m going to look after you for a while.’

  ‘I’m not a fecking child,’ Rose snapped. ‘You don’t have to talk to me like I’ve just managed to go pee-pee on my own for the first time.’

  Vincent’s smile only grew. ‘I like her,’ he beamed.

  That was something, I supposed. ‘Try not to get her killed. I’ll be back tomorrow morning and we’ll sort this all out once and for all.’ I paused. ‘And try not to kill her yourself.’

  ‘Saffron, darling, you don’t have to worry. We’ll get on like a house on fire.’ He hooked his arm round Rose’s. ‘Now tell me, dear. Do you have any children? Grandchildren? Valuable antiques that you’re looking to bequeath to someone in the near future?’

  I rolled my eyes. I already knew this was a very bad idea but right now it was the best bad idea I could think of.

  ***

  I felt grubby and tired when I walked through the Metafora room and into the office. What I wanted was at least five minutes’ peace and quiet with a hot cup of tea and something chocolatey. Unfortunately, it appeared that was the last thing I was going to get.

  Angela, who must have been watching the door like a hawk for the moment I returned, sprang towards me and barred my path. ‘Where have you been?’

  ‘Working,’ I said tiredly. ‘I’ve been out with a client all day.’

  Her mouth puckered into a tight bud. ‘My office. Now.’

  I was tempted to refuse. Angela – and indeed anyone in the Human Resources office – was at the bottom of my list of things to care about. Then I caught sight of Jasper out of the corner of my eye; he was standing by my desk with his arms folded and the sort of look on his face that suggested he wanted serious words with me. I didn’t think I had the energy to play nice with him twice in one day, so I tilted up my chin and smiled at Angela instead. ‘Of course. Whatever you want.’

  She clicked her tongue, suggesting that my acquiescence didn’t please her in the slightest. She was probably hoping that I would refuse so she could mete out an appropriate punishment. But I was trying to get on with everyone in the office and I wouldn’t achieve the meteoric rise to the Director’s chair that I deserved unless I stayed on the good side of Human Resources, so I followed her in.

  Angela sat down and beckoned and indicated that I should stand in front of her desk. I did as she bade then clasped my hands and did my best to appear meek and willing to improve whichever personality deficiencies she was hell-bent on pointing out.

  ‘You were supposed to attend time-management training today, Saffron.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t have time.’

  Angela’s eyes hardened. ‘Are you trying to be funny?’

  ‘It just comes naturally.’ The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. I winced. ‘I mean no, Angela, I’m not trying to be funny. I have a particularly difficult client at the moment. I could do with some guidance to be honest. You see, there are some assa—’

  ‘I don’t like being made a fool of!’ Angela hissed. ‘I put you on that course at great personal risk. The Devil’s Advocate heard me do it! He was in the fucking room! If you’re trying to make me look bad then congratulations! You’ve achieved your goal.’ Her bottom lip quivered and for one horrifying moment I thought she was going to cry. Somewhat belatedly, it occurred to me that my non-attendance at the training did indeed reflect badly on her. She was under as much pressure from Jasper’s audit as everyone else. Even more.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I began.

  ‘Angela,’ one of her colleagues called. ‘Can you take a look at this for me for a moment?’

  A tiny vein throbbed in her forehead. ‘Wait here,’ she spat, heaving herself out of her chair before stamping over to the hapless faery who required her help.

  I sighed. A couple of days earlier, I’d felt as if everything in the world was under my control but in the space of forty-eight hours it had all gone to pot. I was on a runaway horse, galloping wildly into chaos.

  I dropped my shoulders and breathed in. I had to handle Angela more effectively. I didn’t want to antagonise her every time we spoke but somehow my mouth ran away with itself whenever she faced me and I ended up doing just that. I had to handle myself more effectively.

  In a bid to distract myself, I focused on the objects
on Angela’s desk. Her vast array of kitsch collectibles, which both baffled and amused me, was as garish as ever. I reached for a snow globe, unable to resist the temptation to shake it. I watched the white glitter float around what appeared to be a tiny facsimile of Buckingham Palace. I sighed then returned the globe to Angela’s desk and put my hands in my pockets.

  ‘I’ll have you know,’ Billy said in my ear, making me jump like a skittish kitten, ‘that decorating your desk in this fashion is against the rules. So don’t go getting any ideas. You are permitted one small family photograph and that is it.’

  I turned to look at him. If I hadn’t known better, I’d have assumed that the grim sincerity on his round face was a dire warning. ‘Oh yeah?’ I smirked. ‘If it’s so against the rules, how come Angela gets away with it?’

  He leaned forward, shifting his weight onto the balls of his feet. ‘Because she’s the only faery in this office who’s scary and intimidating enough to get away with it. If I say anything to her, I’m afraid the look I get in return will scare all the hair off my head.’

  ‘You’re already as bald as a coot, Billy.’

  His face grew dramatically fearful. ‘And why do you think that is?’

  I grinned. Billy’s banter wouldn’t help me get Angela on side but it was an entertaining diversion. ‘While you’re here,’ I said, ‘I wanted to ask you what you know about memory magic.’

  His smile vanished. ‘Oh no. This isn’t about that human, is it? The one who remembers both who and what you are?’ He shook his head ominously. ‘It won’t go well for him if he’s causing problems. It won’t go well for you, either.’

  ‘You mean Vincent. And no, it’s nothing to do with him. It’s my current client.’

  Guarded and wary now, Billy folded his arms and straightened up slightly. ‘Let me guess,’ he said. ‘You’re finding it difficult to work out what her wish is. You want to remove the memory magic so that she’ll remember who you are and it’ll be easier for you to grant her heart’s desire.’