by Helen Harper
I beamed. ‘Yes! How did you know?’
Billy sighed and tutted. ‘This is something every newbie goes through. They settle in and then they think that they can make their jobs more efficient if they fiddle with the system. I don’t know why I thought you’d be any different.’
I frowned. ‘But it would be more efficient! It’d make the whole process much easier.’
‘Saffron, did you ever try to put a stop to the memory magic when you were a dope faery?’
I folded my arms. ‘No, but there was no need to in that job. In this one, if I could get my clients to remember me temporarily I could get them to trust me more and…’
‘And nothing.’ Billy’s voice was flat. ‘I know my focus on the rules is usually over-baked and ridiculous. You know my reasons for that. But you also have to appreciate that some rules should not be broken.’
I’d found the opening I needed. ‘Should not be broken but could be broken?’ I pressed.
‘Don’t go there, Saffron,’ he warned. ‘It’s not worth it.’
‘Yes, but…’
Billy’s head jerked up and he glanced over my shoulder. ‘She’s coming back. I’m out of here.’ He shuffled away quickly. I had the feeling that was less to do with his supposed fear of Angela and more to do with his desire to shut down our conversation.
I stared after him. I’d leave it for now but I wouldn’t forget about it. My suggestion about messing with memory magic wasn’t about being difficult or making trouble for anyone, it was about creating the optimal environment and situation for my clients. Just because faery godmothers had always done things in a certain way didn’t mean that was the right way. Change could be good. For all of us.
My eyes lost focus as I imagined the Director presenting me with an award for the most innovative and ground-breaking work. Until you came along, Saffron, she declared proudly in my head, we didn’t realise there could be another way to do things. You have shown us the light. Without your efforts, we would still be stuck in the Dark Ages and following the old ways. You are magnificent in every way.
‘Where was I?’ Angela asked, marching back to her chair and sitting down again. She looked up at me. I hastily wiped the dreamy smile from my face and sobered up. ‘Oh yes. Your attitude. Your willingness to make everyone else in this office appear in as negative a light as possible.’
‘That’s not what I’m doing!’ I protested.
She raised an eyebrow. ‘Rupert was in here earlier. He was very upset at something you’d said to Billy about him.’
My heart sank into my boots. ‘Okay, but he deserved that.’
‘You have no idea of the sort of flack I will get if he complains to his father,’ she snapped. ‘The world does not revolve around you, Saffron.’
I bit my lip. ‘I will try harder, Angela.’
‘You’d better.’ She opened a drawer and rummaged around, eventually taking out a small white paper bag and reaching inside it for a boiled sweet. ‘I know that Rupert is an arse. Everyone knows that Rupert is an arse.’ She popped the sweet into her mouth. ‘But we’re stuck with him. You need to learn…’ Her eyes opened wide and she began to choke.
‘Angela?’ I asked, alarmed. ‘Are you alright?’
She didn’t answer – and she definitely wasn’t alright. Her face was turning a worrying shade of puce and her hands were fluttering in alarm.
This I could deal with. Without hesitation, I leapt round to her side of the desk, hauled her flailing body up from her chair and wrapped my arms around her, ready to perform the Heimlich manoeuvre.
Angela elbowed me sharply in the ribs. ‘What are you doing?’ she cried.
‘I…’ I rubbed my forehead. ‘I thought you were choking.’
She glared at me. ‘I was choking, you idiot. I swallowed my sweet whole because of you.’
I couldn’t quite see how that was my fault. All the same, I ventured a hesitant, ‘Are you okay?’
Angela snatched up the snow globe and caressed it lightly before returning it to her desk. ‘I am, now that my globe is back in its correct position.’ I stared; it couldn’t have been more than a centimetre out of place. ‘Don’t touch my things!’
‘Uh … sorry.’
She tutted. ‘Just go, Saffron. Go back to whatever you were doing. I will re-book you on the training. Next time, make sure you’re there.’
I stayed where I was.
Angela glared at me. ‘I thought I told you to go.’
I licked my lips. ‘Angela,’ I said, ‘have you heard about the task force I’m heading up?’
Chapter Eleven
Harry pushed another drink in my direction, his expression fascinated. ‘But why her? Of all the faery godmothers you could have chosen to work with, why choose the deranged HR woman?’
I grinned. ‘There is method in my madness.’
‘I’ll believe it when I see it.’
I wagged my finger at him. ‘You’re not seeing what I’m seeing. First of all, Angela is ruthless. She stole my idea for Rainbow Fridays and took all the credit for it.’
Harry slurped his beer. ‘You know that is a really stupid idea, don’t you?’
‘The stupid ideas are the best ones,’ I said airily. ‘Dressing up is fun. Anyway, if we’re to stop the trolls from any further acts of violence, we have to be prepared to be conniving.’ I took a sip before continuing. ‘Secondly, Angela has an excellent eye for detail. That snow globe of hers was only a centimetre out of place and she still noticed that it had been moved. Finally, much as she despises me, she loves the Office of Faery Godmothers. She’ll do anything to see it succeed. She genuinely cares. And she’s not like most of the others. She sees the flaws and recognises them for what they are then she either uses them to her advantage or flat-out ignores them because they don’t fit her agenda. Frankly,’ I finished, ‘that’s why she doesn’t like me. I mess up her plans and I don’t let her use me. There’s a lot to be admired in that.’
‘Some task force. You and one other person? You’re not going to get very far.’
I didn’t let Harry’s pessimism affect me. ‘Oh ye of little faith. I’ve got lots of the others working for me too. Rupert is scouring the Adventus room, focusing on all the wishes from around the time that things went wrong for the trolls. He’s looking for anything that mention them in any way.’
Harry snorted. ‘Sounds like busy work to me.’
My smile broadened. ‘Busy work at which Rupert is excellent.’
‘Is that it?’
‘Nope.’ I reached one hand round and patted myself ostentatiously on the back. ‘I’ve involved everyone I possibly could. Anyone who wants to be on the task force is on the task force. Delilah has the best ear for gossip of anyone I’ve ever met. She’s hitting the streets and listening for anything that might hint at the trolls’ whereabouts. If there are any whispers out there to be heard, she’s the one who will hear them. Then there’s Alicia. She’s got to be one of the most potentially vicious faeries I’ve ever met.’ I shook my head. ‘Honestly, she missed her calling. She should have been a ninja with the way she can sneak up on people and stab them in the back.’
Harry leaned forward. ‘So what’s she doing?’
‘Attack training.’ I nodded smugly. ‘Looking for the best ways for us to attack trolls and defend ourselves against them.’
‘What about Billy?’ he asked. ‘Didn’t he want to be involved too?’
‘He did.’ I glanced round, taking care that we weren’t overheard. ‘You can’t tell anyone else about this,’ I said.
‘You can trust me.’
‘I mean it, Harry. No one can know.’
He clasped his hand to his heart in mock offence. ‘Saffron. Whatever you tell me, I will take to the grave. Leprechaun’s honour.’
‘You hate leprechauns.’
His eyes flashed. ‘Thieving wee bastards,’ he grunted. ‘They’re supposed to guard the damn gold at the end of my rainbows, not help themselves to it when
ever they feel like it.’
‘Harry,’ I reminded him, ‘half your family are leprechauns.’
He nodded. ‘That’s why I can count myself among them and despise them at the same time. You’ve met my cousins. You know what I’m talking about.’ He smirked. ‘In any case, I won’t tell anyone. What have you got Billy doing?’
I leaned forward. ‘He’s searching through the archaic rule books. Not just the ones for faery godmothers but for all faeries. He’s looking for something that might help me get the trolls off the hook for what happened with the kidnappings.’
Harry’s mouth dropped open. ‘Off the hook?’
‘Shhhh,’ I hissed. ‘Keep your damn voice down!’
‘Saffron,’ Harry said, his expression pained, although he at least spoke more quietly, ‘the trolls abducted five faeries. Seven, if you include the Director and the Devil’s Advocate. They maimed them for life and they would have done far worse if you hadn’t stopped them. They’re plotting to bring all the faery godmothers down, for goodness’ sake. They’re evil.’
‘Perhaps,’ I replied quietly, ‘evil depends which side of the fence you’re sitting on.’
‘Saff…’
I held up my hands. ‘I’m not condoning what happened last month. Those kidnappings were brutal and despicable acts. But not only were they orchestrated by one troll who is no longer with us, they occurred because of what we did to them. The trolls were decimated because of us, Harry. It’s the faery godmothers’ fault that their entire race is virtually extinct.’
‘You told me that was an accident.’
I swallowed. ‘And I believe it was. But if most of us faeries were killed in one fell swoop, wouldn’t you want to see the culprits punished?’
Harry shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with my argument. ‘Perhaps,’ he said. ‘But what you’re talking about was an accident and it’s ancient history. We weren’t alive when the trolls were almost all wiped out! It’s not our fault it happened. Hell, until last month we didn’t even know that it had happened!’
‘Yes,’ I agreed, ‘because at the time the faery godmothers covered it up. They did that because they knew what they’d done was shameful, wrong and, quite frankly, utterly horrific. Don’t forget,’ I added, ‘that you only know about it because I told you. Even now we’re still covering up what happened.’
He sighed heavily, conceding the point but not quite giving in. ‘What about what the trolls did yesterday?’
‘No one was hurt,’ I pointed out. ‘We merely evacuated the building for a short while. That was all about making us more nervous. They want us to think that they have all the power.’
Harry shook his head in dismay. ‘And what if they do have all the power? They have to be stopped somehow, Saffron. Are you suggesting that the trolls should be allowed to retaliate? That we should let them continue to terrorise the faery godmothers until your entire office is closed down for good?
‘Of course I’m not saying that.’ I tried to find the right words to explain. ‘But what’s the end game here, Harry? Do we kill all the remaining trolls so there’s no longer a threat? Complete the genocide that we started, whether accidentally or otherwise?’
‘No, but…’
‘But what? Either we find a way to bring the remaining trolls onto our side, see things from their point of view and prevent any further atrocities from happening, or sooner or later there won’t be a choice and we’ll have to kill them all. Otherwise it will never stop. The only way forward is to broker some kind of lasting peace, one where we atone for the past and they do too. An eye for an eye is never going to do anything other than make us all blind.’
Harry folded his arms, shadowing his emotions in an uncharacteristic fashion. I watched him nervously; for the first time since I’d known him, I was unsure about what he was thinking. Then he raised his eyes to mine. ‘I take back what I said last time,’ he said finally. ‘You’re not being set up to fail. You’re absolutely the best person who could be in charge of this task force.’
I breathed out, relieved that he could acknowledge my viewpoint. If I couldn’t convince my best friend to see things from the trolls’ perspective, I wouldn’t be able to convince anyone else.
‘Unfortunately,’ I said in a half-whisper, ‘persuading the trolls to stop their vendetta won’t be easy. It might not even be possible. We have to try, though – it’s the only way we’ll survive this. If Billy can find some old rules that will help me to appeal to the trolls’ better nature, everyone might walk away from this situation with some degree of satisfaction. I don’t have a plan yet. I need to focus on finding the trolls and stopping them from doing anything else that will turn us faeries against them. I’m making all this shit up as I go along.’
Harry flashed me a quick smile. ‘Honestly, Saff? If anyone can do this, you can.’ He clinked his glass against mine.
I took a sip and matched his smile but I saw the shadows on my old friend’s face. Despite his words of encouragement, I knew that deep down he didn’t think I had a cat in hell’s chance of succeeding. Unfortunately, I secretly agreed with him.
***
Troll task force or no troll task force, I still had my other faery godmother duties to contend with. The next morning, I set my alarm for ridiculous o’clock and stumbled out of bed with protesting limbs and bleary eyes. I didn’t feel awake enough to waste time worrying about my wardrobe; I simply pulled on the first clothes I yanked out of my chest of drawers, downed a strong cup of coffee and headed straight out to check on Rose and Vincent before I made an appearance in the office.
Now that the old woman was in Colchester, I didn’t have to use the Metafora magic to transport myself to her. As long as she and Vincent hadn’t killed each other, I could congratulate myself on such excellent forethought.
The streets were quiet, with only the odd early morning jogger and street cleaner to be seen. While I doubted that Vincent was a particularly early riser, I reckoned that Rose probably got up at the crack of dawn. It was with this thought in mind that I knocked confidently on Vincent’s door before the local postman would have left the sorting office. When the door opened after mere seconds, I knew my instincts had been bang on.
Vincent didn’t look like he’d slept at all. Wearing a threadbare dressing gown in a most unusual shade of pink, he blinked at me. ‘Thank fuck you’re here,’ he said, his face looking unusually fearful. ‘I can’t do this. I can’t take it any more. That old woman is bloody nuts and I want her out of my house.’
‘Vincent!’ I heard Rose bark from further inside. ‘Who is that? What do they want?’
He flinched. ‘Honestly,’ he muttered, ‘I thought my mother was a scary woman. She’s got nothing on this old bird.’
There was the sound of another door opening. A moment later, Pumpkin’s plump white body barrelled towards us. I leapt back, unwilling to sacrifice more of my flesh to the dog’s sharp teeth, but he came to a skidding halt by Vincent’s feet. His little body quivered with unspent ferocity but, thankfully for now, he chose to stay back.
Rose shuffled towards us. She’d clearly been helping herself to Vincent’s wardrobe; instead of the hotel bathrobe from yesterday, she was now dressed in a pair of overly large jeans and a T-shirt that advised me to ‘Keep calm and roll my own’.
‘Vincent!’ she snapped. ‘This is not the time to be accepting lady callers! We haven’t started cleaning the kitchen yet. And if you think I’m going to scour that disgusting floor of yours while you shag the brains out of this,’ she looked me up and down with disdain, ‘person, then you can think again.’
‘Bloody ’ell,’ he groaned. ‘You told me that there was nothing wrong with your memory. This is Saffron. She was here yesterday. She brought you here yesterday.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve never seen her before in my life. I’m hardly likely to forget someone with hair like that, am I? I thought things were bad enough in the seventies and eighties but I’ve never seen a perm
as bad as that one.’
I wrinkled my nose. Yes, my curls might be described as bushy and unkempt but they were wholly natural. ‘Nice to see you again, Rose.’
‘How the feck do you know my name?’ She swung towards Vincent. ‘Did you tell her about me?’ She looked me up and down and I knew instantly that she was checking me for the tell-tale bulge of a gun. Something had shifted imperceptibly in her body language. There was no doubt about it; Rose was still on full alert for her would-be assassins.
Vincent ran a hand through his greasy hair. ‘I don’t understand. She hasn’t had any other memory problems.’
‘It’s not her fault,’ I explained. ‘There’s magic surrounding me when I’m working. That means my clients forget me as soon as I’ve gone.’
He frowned. ‘I remembered you.’
‘You were never officially a client.’ Explaining that it was my mistake in the first place that meant Vincent would always remember me was too complicated, so I gave him an explanation that would please him. Given Rose’s current circumstances, I needed to keep on his good side. ‘You’re special.’
Vincent’s cheeks turned pink enough to match the colour of his robe. ‘Well,’ he coughed, ‘we know that already.’
‘I don’t fecking know it,’ Rose snapped. She continued to glare at me. ‘Who are you really?’
‘I’m Saffron.’ I paused. ‘Your faery godmother.’
‘Faery what?’
Vincent looked at me. ‘Doesn’t this get tiresome?’
‘And then some,’ I muttered. ‘Can we get in off the street and I’ll explain everything to Rose again indoors?’
He swept out a sloppy bow. ‘After you.’
Pumpkin nipped at my ankles as I walked down the corridor. There was a strong smell of disinfectant, which I was certain was down to Rose’s efforts rather than Vincent’s.
I veered left into a small living room. The wallpaper was old and faded and some of the furniture had seen better days but it was surprisingly comfy, with some interesting artwork on the walls. I admired a seascape and was raising an enquiring eyebrow at Vincent when I noted that the signature at the bottom was his. He shrugged awkwardly and mumbled something about tea before leaving me alone with Rose and Pumpkin.