by Helen Harper
Slightly mollified, her shoulders dropped a fraction. ‘I know,’ she sniffed. There was a faint blush to her cheeks. My compliment had pleased her far more than she was letting on. I suddenly felt a wave of sympathy for her. Given the egos of the other godmothers I’d met so far, her job couldn’t be easy. Then I frowned to myself. If I was going to fit in, I needed an ego to match to theirs. ‘I’m an excellent judge,’ I told her, in an overly loud and imperious tone. ‘If I say they are fabulous, then they truly are.’
Angela yanked her proud gaze away from the dubious artwork, looking at me as if was making fun of her. ‘Indeed,’ she sniffed. She set her jaw and turned away, seemingly deciding that further chitchat with me was pointless. Reaching for a small remote control which had been sitting forlornly in the middle of the table, she clicked it and there was a loud rumbling sound. From the ceiling, a projector screen began to unfurl. I was impressed. The most the dope faeries had was a grubby whiteboard and a television set so old that it had to be wheeled in on a trolley rather than affixed to the wall.
‘Cool,’ I said, as the screen came to a juddering halt about halfway down.
A spasm of annoyance crossed Angela’s face. She stalked over and took hold of the corner, yanking it down the rest of the way. I kept my expression as straight as possible. So much for technology then.
‘There are three training videos which you are required to watch,’ she said. ‘Each one has been made at great expense and with excellent production values. You will find the information contained within them very useful.’ She smirked. ‘Make sure you take notes.’
It was already clear from earlier that the videos were going to be interminable. I sat up a bit straighter in my chair. No matter how dull they were, I told myself, I would sit up straight, keep my eyes open and pay rapt attention. Anything less and I knew it would picked up. I could cope with a little boredom in exchange for the wonders this job would bring. It would be a small price to pay.
Angela clicked on the remote again and the projector behind me began to whirr. Flickering images appeared on the screen, coalescing into the familiar image of the Director. As Angela walked out, without saying so much as another word, I drew in a breath and prepared myself. I was actually hoping I might learn something useful. You never knew.
‘Welcome to the Office for Faery Godmothers,’ the Director intoned from the screen. ‘You are entering an institution which is not only steeped in tradition and has an esteemed reputation amongst faeries all around the world, but also one which has the highest possible standards. To be a faery godmother is to be a part of excellence. We only accept faeries of the highest possible quality. We do not only require intelligence. To be a successful faery godmother, you require wits, the ability to think on your feet and…’ Her image froze, her mouth hanging open in mid-sentence.
I stayed where I was for a moment or two but the video didn’t re-start. I got up and moved round the table, reaching for the remote control. Then I jabbed the play button.
‘Welcome to the Office for Faery Godmothers. You are entering an institution which is not only steeped in tradition and has an esteemed repu…’
It froze again. Fuck a puck. I pressed the play button once more. This time, however, the image of the Director didn’t flicker. I pressed another button. Then another. Nothing happened. The video was kaput.
I glanced around. Out in the main office, everyone seemed to be busy, with their heads down over their computers. It didn’t look like I’d get any help from out there. I’d have to go and find Angela and get her help again. It didn’t take a genius to know that she’d automatically blame me for the video’s failure. I didn’t think I had much choice, however.
Sighing heavily, I pushed back my chair and stood up, walking to the conference room and pushing it open. I paused for a moment, watching the office. This was the perfect vantage point to see everything and everyone. Alicia sashayed her way from one end of the room to the other, pausing to lower her head and murmur something to Figgy along the way. Delilah was still at her desk, her lips moving as she spoke to herself. Adeline was tapping a clipboard and looking serious, and various others were doing everything they could to avoid eye contact with her. There was no sign of the Director or the Devil’s Advocate but there was still a definite tension in the air which indicated that they remained in the building. I chewed on my lip and eyed the various empty desks once again. Was it faery godmothers who’d been disappearing? Was that why the Devil’s Advocate was about to perform an audit? I nibbled on my bottom lip and shrugged to myself. I supposed I’d find out what was going on sooner or later.
I stepped out of the conference room, just as the lift pinged and a delivery faery wearing lurid cycling shorts which were tighter than tight and left very little to the imagination, walked out. He spotted me watching him and raised a hand.
‘I’m looking for the Director,’ he said. He waved a small brown box in my direction. ‘I have to give this to her.’
I tried not to grin too widely. Here was someone who immediately accepted that I was a faery godmother like everyone else. He wasn’t questioning my presence and he expected that I would know where the Director happened to be. I could feel my chest puffing up with pride.
‘I can pass it to her,’ I said, as if the Director and I were very close and spent lots of time together rather than the reality which was that she’d given me a brisk good morning on the day I’d arrived for my interview and that had been that.
The faery’s mouth down-turned. ‘I’m supposed to get her to sign for it personally.’ He checked his watch. Clearly he was on a tight schedule.
‘I think she’s in an important meeting,’ I said, thinking of the Devil’s Advocate. I nodded at the parcel. ‘I’ll place it directly into her own hands,’ I promised.
Indecision warred across his face but, in the end, my earnestness convinced him. He handed me the package. ‘Thanks.’
‘No problem. I’m a faery godmother,’ I said importantly. ‘Nothing is not a problem.’ My brow creased. Did that make any sense? ‘I mean nothing is a problem.’ Somehow that didn’t make any sense either. Damn it. Faery godmothers used correct grammar at all times, I told myself. So far I merely babbled.
The delivery faery gazed at me implacably. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Okay then.’ He turned on his heel and stepped back into the lift.
I sighed and promised myself I’d do better next time. Then I looked at the box. It wasn’t particularly heavy. Neither was it particularly remarkable. Whatever it was, I hoped it was important enough to warrant me interrupting the Director’s busy day to give it to her. It was fortuitous that the delivery faery had appeared at that moment. It would give me the perfect chance to introduce myself properly to the Director. What would I say to her? I ran through various possibilities in my head. I’d aim for polite but not obsequious. Confident but not bolshy. Intelligent but not geeky.
I was pondering the merits of using a casual ‘hello’ over a more formal ‘good morning’ when I heard the murmur of voices and looked up to see the Director walk out of a room with the Devil’s Advocate by her side. I jerked forward. This was my chance. Unfortunately, however, as I began to move, my toe caught on the edge of an expensive rug, laid out across the floor. The upper half of my body continued to propel forward while my legs were yanked back. I threw my arms out in a desperate bid to steady myself, flailing them around in order to keep my balance. The box flew out of my hands and went sailing across the room just as I managed to grab hold of the corner of the nearest desk and steady myself. If it weren’t for the lightning speed reactions of the Devil’s Advocate, thrusting his arm out in time to block it, the box would have hit the Director smack bang in the centre of her forehead. It tumbled to the ground while I straightened up and wished that the same ground would open up and swallow me whole. Every single head in the office swiveled towards me.
‘I … uh … I …’ I stammered.
Alicia, who’d appraised the situation with a
stonishing speed, sprang towards the Director. ‘I can’t believe she almost hit you in the face with that thing! You could have broken your nose! It’s awful, simply awful. I’ll retrieve it for you straightaway.’ She knelt down to pick the box up. She never got that far, however. Her fingers hadn’t even touched it when her eyes widened and she began to scream. This time she wasn’t putting on a show. Her inarticulate cry was filled with nothing but pure terror.
Chapter Six
Five of us were in the Director’s office. Despite the sun streaming in through the large windows, and the warm tones of the well appointed furniture which I reckoned Louis XIV would have been proud to call his own, a deep chill had settled into my bones. Alicia had wrapped her arms around herself and was still visibly trembling. I supposed I should be glad that there existed something in the world which unsettled her. The trouble was that it deeply unsettled me too.
‘Go through it again,’ the Devil’s Advocate said, his expression set into harsh lines. ‘What actually happened?’
I swallowed, wishing my mouth weren’t quite so dry. ‘I was in the conference room. I stepped out to find someone to help me with the training video because it had frozen. A delivery faery came out of the lift at the same time.’
‘How do you know he was a delivery faery?’ the Director asked, her dark eyes fixed on mine. Her voice remained pleasant and her expression was benign. There was nothing benign about this situation, however.
It was a good question. I licked my lips. ‘I assumed he was. He was definitely a faery and he was wearing cycling shorts. I didn’t see any ID but he seemed to know what he was doing.’
Next to me, Mrs Jardine coughed uncomfortably. ‘He showed me his ID downstairs. His name was Joe.’
‘Surname?’ the Director barked.
She twitched. ‘He signed it in the book but it’s illegible.’ She held up the same book which I’d seen Alicia and the others use. There was a thumbprint next to the name Joe, followed by what could only be described as a squiggle.
‘You didn’t take his full name?’
Mrs Jardine shook her head. She had the grace to look shame-faced. ‘I did not.’
‘Have you seen him before? Has he made other deliveries here in the past?’
‘A few times.’
A muscle jerked in the Devil’s Advocate’s cheek. ‘I will contact the delivery faeries and find out what else they can tell us about him. Assuming he’s genuine and actually does work for them, then perhaps he can enlighten us more on where the … box came from.’
We all stared down at the box in question. It still looked innocuous enough on the outside but the contents were clearly anything but. Nestled in some carefully arranged tissue paper was a single bloody ear. It was only just starting to shrivel up at the edges, indicating that it had been severed from its owner in the very recent past. A single pearl drop earring hung from the lifeless lobe.
‘Do you know who it belongs to?’ the Devil’s Advocate asked quietly.
Alicia raised her head. ‘Lydia,’ she whispered, her answer barely audible.
The Director pressed her fingertips against her temples. ‘Lydia DuChamps,’ she said.
‘She disappeared last month?’ he probed.
She nodded. ‘Yes.’
I stared from her to him and back again. ‘She was a faery godmother?’ I asked.
‘She is a faery godmother,’ the Director snapped.
I recoiled slightly at the tone of her voice even though I instinctively knew it was the stress of the situation rather than my word choice which had caused it. Almost immediately, the Director also seemed to regret it and softened her expression towards me once again. I couldn’t help thinking that she was on a mission to play nice towards me. Something about it didn’t sit quite right. There more important things to worry about anyway. At the same time as the Director relaxed, the Devil’s Advocate gave me a long look. ‘You don’t know,’ he said. ‘You haven’t been told what’s going on here.’ It wasn’t a question.
‘You may go now, Saffron,’ the Director said.
I started. ‘But …’
‘You’ve had a trying time. Get yourself a cup of tea and have a break.’ She paused. ‘Now.’
If this weren’t my first day, I’d have stood my ground and demanded to know what was happening and who Lydia DuChamp really was. All this was too new and too baffling to cope with right now, however. Considering I would now be forever synonymous in the Director’s mind with throwing a severed ear at her face, I decided that I should do as I told. I was going to find out what was going on here, however. I already knew who to ask as well. I inclined my head just once like the good girl I was attempting to present myself to be and walked out. As soon as the door was closed I could hear the raised voices behind me, although the words themselves were too indistinct to properly make out. Rather than lingering and trying to eavesdrop, I walked slowly back to my desk, aware that every single eye was watching my every step.
Despite her earlier unfriendliness, I’d only just sat myself down on my broken chair when Delilah began. That was what I’d been banking on.
‘Oh. My. God.’ Her eyes were saucer wide. ‘That was an actual ear. Did it smell? Was there blood on it?’ She looked me up and down, her expression suggesting that she was half expecting to see blood splatters.
‘There was a bit of blood,’ I admitted. I had to give her something in order to get her to talk. ‘But I didn’t actually touch the thing.’
The gleam of morbid delight in her expression made me feel nauseous all over again. ‘Do you know who it belonged to?’ she asked, leaning in towards me.
I followed her lead and moved closer to her. My chair squeaked alarmingly as I wheeled it the short distance over but it held steady. My arse didn’t end up on the floor anyway, which I’d count as a win. ‘They said it was someone called Lydia.’
‘No!’
‘Yes.’ I nodded.
‘Was the ear, you know, fresh?’
‘I think so.’ I blinked at her in earnest confusion. ‘Lydia disappeared, didn’t she? Last month?’
Delilah glanced round. There were still several people watching me but Delilah’s glare was enough to make them drop their heads and return to their work. ‘We weren’t supposed to talk about it with you. The notice came down from on high. But,’ she shrugged as if it were now out of her hands, ‘you obviously already know about it.’
‘Mmmm.’
‘It’s terribly shocking.’
I bobbed my head in agreement. ‘Horrifying. Especially because she’s not been the only one.’
‘I know, right?’ Delilah clasped her hands tightly together in her lap. ‘Five faery godmothers in three months. And nobody knows where they’ve gone.’
Five? I swallowed down my shock. It was a miracle that the entire faery world wasn’t abuzz with that news. ‘Do you know much about what happened?’
She was clearly delighted to have someone new to discuss it with. ‘Well,’ she whispered, ‘we all know they were out on jobs when they went missing. The clients have been investigated and there’s nothing to suggest they were involved. The whole office has been on high alert though and there have been a lot of … questions. They seem to think that someone in the office is responsible for the disappearances.’ She rolled her eyes at the suggestion but there was a still a dubious note to her voice. ‘There’s nothing tying any of the disappearances together as far as anyone can tell. Apart from the fact they all worked out of this office anyway.’ She ticked off her fingers. ‘Lydia, Alistair, Boris, Edwina and Jane. They weren’t friends. They didn’t work in the same team. They didn’t have the same clients.’ She paused for dramatic effect. ‘But now they’re all missing. You didn’t hear this from me but I’m convinced that it’s a disgruntled client who’s taken them. There will be a ransom note before long, mark my words. I reckon whoever it is who’s done this wants their own lifelong link to the faery godmothers. Just imagine what you could do with unlimited wi
shes. You could become anyone. You could do anything.’
‘But clients don’t remember us in between visits,’ I pointed out. ‘They certainly don’t remember us once their wishes have been granted. Their memories are all but wiped clean.’
Delilah pursed her lips as if she’d not thought of this. Before she could say anything else, however, the door to the Director’s office opened and the Devil’s Advocate appeared. He cast a long look in my direction, his face dark. For a brief moment, I thought he was going to walk over towards me. Instead, however, he turned and headed for the lift. I watched him go. No wonder he’d been brought in to do an audit. Every faery godmother in this place was running scared. And, I thought sourly to myself, no wonder I’d been brought in. It wasn’t my excellence as a dope faery that had brought about this new job. It was because the godmothers were short-staffed and barely coping. I’d merely ended up here by default.
As soon as the lift doors had closed in front of the Devil’s Advocate and the office was once again free from his brooding presence, Adeline stood up from her desk at the front of the room and stalked towards me. She thrust a piece of paper in front of my face. ‘Here,’ she said. ‘Your first clients.’
I stared at the list of names. So much for that break and a cup of tea then. There were eight full names on the list. I reckoned it would take an experienced faery godmother a fortnight to get through them all and ensure their needs were adequately met.
‘We’re starting you off slowly,’ Adeline told me, ‘because you’re new. But don’t expect to always have it this easy. All the same, don’t expect special treatment. These clients must be signed off by the end of week.’
Er, what? ‘I’ve not completed my considerable training yet,’ I said, using her own words against her. Hell, I’d not actually started my training yet. Beyond what little I’d managed to glean about how the faery godmothers operated from seeing them around the streets, I had no idea how they went about completing tasks.