Glasgow Fairytale

by Alastair D. McIver

  ‘Maw!’ Jill said, trying not to gape.

  ‘Can I come in?’ asked Maw.

  ‘Aye. Aye, of course.’

  Maw waddled awkwardly through the door and into the living room.

  She sat down on the sofa and an awkward silence fell.

  ‘Some weather we’ve been getting, eh?’

  ‘Aye,’ said Jack.

  ‘So how’ve you been, Maw?’ asked Jill, to break the ice.

  ‘No too bad,’ said Maw. ‘Things awright wi’ you?’

  ‘Och, cannae complain.’

  ‘Aye, good, good, aye,’ said Maw, trying to call to mind some of the other words she knew. ‘Aye. Ye still seeing that celebrity boyfriend o’ yours?’

  ‘Naw,’ said Jill. ‘Me and Reggie broke up a while ago.’

  ‘Och, ye’re daft!’ said Maw. ‘Ye shoulda married his money, then left him!’

  ‘Aye, right enough.’

  ‘Listen, Jill … see all this time I’ve no been in touch … I was aye meaning to phone. I just, um … didnae.’

  ‘Aye,’ said Jill. ‘Aye, me too. Listen, can I get ye a cup of tea or that?’ asked Jill.

  ‘Aye, that would be lovely. Thanks.’

  As soon as Jill had gone through to the kitchen, Maw turned to Jack.

  ‘Listen, Jack, I … maybe I shouldnae have says some o’ the things I says and that, afore ye left.’

  ‘Naw …’ Jack agreed.

  ‘Also, I … maybe I misjudged whatserface a wee bit.’

  Jack’s studded eyebrows shot up. ‘Whatserface?’

  ‘Aye, you know,’ said Maw, gesturing awkwardly. ‘You know … Rasputin, or whatever it is you call her.’

  ‘Rapunzel, you mean?’ Jack asked icily.

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘Well, I don’t see how you can judge her or misjudge her,’ said Jack. ‘You’ve never met her!’

  ‘Aye, that’s true enough.’

  ‘If you want to make it up to me, you’ll spend some time wi’ her. Get to know her a bit.’

  ‘Aye, awright,’ said Maw. ‘I’ll take her doon the pub the morra night. She can watch the Rangers game wi’ me.’

  ‘That’s no quite what I –’

  Jack didn’t manage to finish his sentence before the phone rang and Jill ran in to answer it.

  ‘Hello? … What’s wrong? … Oh, no. Um … okay, I’ll be there as soon as I can … Right. Bye.’

  She packed herself into her jacket and said, ‘I’m really sorry, I’ve got to go.’

  ‘Is everything awright?’ asked Jack.

  ‘Um … sort of. I’m sorry, it’s a really long story. I’ve got to go. Bye.’

  Ella was scrubbing a pot when there came a knock at the door.

  ‘Keep her out of sight while I get that,’ said her foster father. Kara and Clara ushered her into the conservatory.

  ‘My word,’ said their father when he answered the door. ‘This is a surprise and an honour.’

  Harry Charmaine had his hands in his pockets and was staring at the ground, shifting uncomfortably. ‘Um … hello.’

  Ella could hear every word and recognised Harry’s voice instantly. Her heart pounded and her brain roared, but she dared not present herself.

  ‘Can I come in?’

  ‘Please, be my guest. Make yourself at home. Can I get you anything?’

  Harry chuckled nervously. ‘Um … that sort of depends …’ He lapsed into an embarrassed silence and stared at his feet.

  Kara and Clara oozed into the room.

  ‘Harry Charmaine!’ beamed Kara. ‘It’s such an honour!’ She grabbed his hand and kissed it.

  ‘Yes, an honour,’ echoed Clara. She grabbed the other and did the same.

  ‘Um …’ said Harry. ‘This is a wee bit awkward. Um … I’m trying to find a woman I was dancing wi’ at the ball … the one in the pink and gold dress. Tell ye the truth, I’m desperate to find her.’

  ‘Why, yes, of course,’ said Kara. ‘I shouldn’t be surprised you don’t recognise me in my ordinary clothes. I look just a fright!’

  ‘Um … I’m sorry, but … I don’t think it was you,’ said Harry, shrugging awkwardly.

  ‘Are you calling my daughter a liar?’ demanded her father.

  ‘Don’t listen to her!’ said Clara, pushing herself in front of Kara. ‘I was the one you danced with at the ball! Don’t you recognise me?’

  ‘Sorry, um … I don’t think it was you either.’

  ‘Are you calling at least one of my daughters a liar?’ demanded their father.

  Harry tensed up, and looked like he would rather be anywhere else in the world. ‘Um …’ He produced a shoe from his largest jacket pocket. The shoe. ‘The woman … she, um … you? Um … she left this. I’ve been looking for her, and I thought if I find someone who was at the ball and fits the shoe … well, she’s probably the wan, know what I mean?’

  ‘Oh, you are clever,’ said Kara. She snatched the shoe from him and ran upstairs with it, calling, ‘Back in a moment!

  Clara followed.

  Only then did Ella feel it safe to come out from the conservatory. ‘Um … hi,’ she whispered nervously. She wanted to chew her hair, but thought better of it.

  Her foster father shot her a piercing glare.

  ‘Mr Charmaine,’ he said, ‘I’d like you to meet Ella. A child we’ve been fostering. We’re a –’ he laughed ‘– a big-hearted family, you know.’

  ‘Hi,’ Harry responded absently, barely glancing at her.

  ‘I’m no a child, I’m a woman,’ Ella informed her foster father with a small smile. ‘I’m the same woman you were dancing with at the ball, Harry; playing fitba’ wi’ the balloon.’

  Harry looked up and down the young lady who stood before him, hair all over the place, faded brown polo shirt tucked into her worn, beige cords.

  ‘Look into my eyes, Harry. Then ye’ll see who I really am.’

  He did. And he did. ‘It’s really you!’

  ‘Aye,’ said Ella, laughing with delight. ‘It’s really me. Now … was there something you wanted to say to me?’

  ‘Aye,’ said Harry. ‘I love you and I want to marry you.’

  ‘Och, is that all?’ answered Ella, and threw her arms around him.

  They were interrupted by a scream of pain from upstairs, followed by an agonised cry of ‘Change of plan! You marry Harry and I’ll do the sawing!’

  ‘We’d better tell those two what’s going on afore they amputate each other’s toes,’ said Ella.

  ‘Now wait just a minute,’ Ella’s foster father said sternly. ‘Ella’s under my care. She can’t get married without my permission. Of course, I’m happy to discuss the matter with a gentleman of your means. I’m sure we can work something out …’

  ‘Um … I think that’s no actually true,’ murmured Harry. ‘Even if someone’s in care, I reckon they can marry at sixteen without permission in Scotland.’

  ‘Ha ha!’ said Ella, cheerfully.

  The two ugly sisters came down. Kara was cradling the shoe and limping slightly.

  ‘Now may I please have my shoe back?’ asked Ella.

  Kara backed off, startled, and clutched it tightly to her.

  ‘Give her the shoe!’ her dad snapped. She threw it at Ella.

  Ella slipped her foot into the shoe. Not only was it a perfect fit, but it shimmered and sparkled with a strange yellow light … and then turned back into the tatty, cheap, pink trainer it was to begin with.

  Kara gasped.

  Clara fainted.

  Their father said, ‘My word!’

  Harry grinned and said, ‘You’re some woman.’

  But before any of them had fully digested what they had seen, there was a knock at the door.

  Ella’s foster father opened it … to admit her social worker. She didn’t shut the front door behind her.

  ‘Oh, hello,’ she said, upon seeing Harry Charmaine. ‘This is a surprise. I might ask you for your autograph for my daughter in a minute.�
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  ‘No problem,’ smiled the football star.

  ‘But first, to business,’ she smiled at Ella. ‘Ella, I’m glad I caught you here, because I have a surprise for you …’ she turned around and called, ‘You can come in, now.’

  In walked Ella’s mum.

  Ella stood, stunned for a second, not quite able to believe her eyes.

  ‘Mum?’ she finally breathed.

  ‘I got released,’ said Ella’s mum, while Ella sobbed into her shoulder. ‘I asked the social worker to keep it a surprise. I hope you don’t mind.’

  ‘No,’ said the smothered voice of Ella. ‘It’s a lovely surprise.’

  ‘I’m as surprised as you are … I didnae know I had a parole hearing until they came for me. They seemed to think I knew all about it! Funny the things that can happen, eh?’

  Ella had the first spark of suspicion in her mind about what might be going on. She whispered in her mother’s ear: ‘Was there a lovely, middle-aged lady in a sparkly blue dress on the parole board?’

  Her mum frowned and nodded.

  ‘Talk to ye about it later,’ whispered Ella.

  ‘Mrs McCinder,’ said Harry.

  ‘Miss McCinder.’

  ‘Miss McCinder … I care aboot your daughter very much, which is why I’m here …’

  ‘We’ll talk about it over dinner,’ said Ella’s mum. ‘And you can call me …’ she hesitated. ‘Actually, ye can keep calling me Miss McCinder until ye start knocking them in for Celtic again!’

  Ella and Harry laughed.

  ‘Anyway,’ said the social worker. ‘I’ve spoken to my superiors, and we’re quite happy for you to go home today, Ella, but it will take a Children’s Panel decision to officially restore custody to your mum.’

  Ella burst into tears again, and sat on the floor. ‘I’m going home! I’m actually going home!’

  ‘Aye,’ said her mum. ‘Away and pack your things.’

  ‘Afore I do,’ said Ella, ‘I have a complaint to make against this family …’

  ‘Come now, Ella,’ said her former foster father with a forced laugh. ‘This is a happy occasion. Let’s not ruin it with this sort of nonsense!’

  Ella stood up and looked him straight in the eye. That was when she realised for the first time that she was taller than him. This was her moment of triumph.

  ‘Your daughters tellt me – and you never said a word against it – that if I said anything aboot the way I was getting treated you’d make sure I would get sent somewhere even worse. Well noo I know that’s no gonnae happen, I’m spilling the beans!’

  And she told her social worker all the details of her mistreatment.

  At one point the social worker gently restrained her mother from attacking them – holding her wrist gently, but with a subtle strength that said she could break it if she had to. ‘You’ve only just got out of jail,’ she whispered. ‘Don’t be sending yourself back now!’

  To Ella, she said, ‘You should have told me about this in the first place. I’ll make sure this matter is thoroughly investigated. In the meantime, get your things. You’re going home.’

  ‘She’ll be here soon,’ said Dragonman. ‘Don’t panic.’

  ‘Aye,’ said Crabbit impatiently. She was pacing like a caged animal around the fallen Snowy. ‘This is me no panicking.’

  ‘Nonononononono,’ Nono remarked sadly.

  Dagger kicked Snowy. ‘Get up!’ he snarled. Then he shrugged. ‘Just checking.’

  ‘Who would do this to him?’ asked Glaikit.

  ‘What’s he still on the flair for?’ demanded Crabbit. ‘We should at least make him comfy.’

  ‘I don’t think he minds much either way …’ Dragonman was silenced by Crabbit’s lopsided glare. ‘Tell you what, why don’t we make him comfortable?’

  The Freaks all helped to lift Snowy onto the sofa and cover him with a blanket.

  Then they waited impatiently for Jill to arrive.

  A medium-sized eternity passed before Jill burst in the door.

  She wasted no time in going straight to the sofa where Snowy lay and examining him.

  ‘Thanatosium,’ she said. ‘His only hope is true love’s kiss and he must get it within three days.’

  ‘Way ahead o’ ye,’ said Crabbit.

  ‘Well, if he’s got a girlfriend, or a boyfriend, or whatever, or if he’s in love wi’ someone, we need to track them doon fast.’ She was breathless now, and trying not to cry. ‘It’s a really slim chance.’

  ‘No as slim as you might think, Jill,’ said Crabbit. ‘There is such a woman. We’ve already tracked her down.’

  ‘I … I don’t under –’

  ‘It’s you, ya dafty!’

  It took a moment for Crabbit’s words to sink in.

  ‘Did he tell you that?’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘Well, he must’ve been joking. I mean … I’ve only met him the once, and that was to bundle him into a taxi and send him here.’

  ‘Some people don’t need more,’ insisted Crabbit. ‘Anyways, I can assure you he was not joking!’

  ‘It’s impossible. I mean, look at me! I’m no exactly the prettiest woman in Scotland.’

  Crabbit snorted. ‘All normals look the same to me, so I cannae comment. But you look awright from where I’m standing. But it’s no what I think and it’s no what you think that coonts. It’s what he thinks.’

  ‘It’s just… it’s just so hard to believe.’

  ‘He says he loves you, Jill,’ Crabbit told her gently. ‘And ye know that cannae be bad.’

  ‘Stop blethering,’ Dagger growled, waving his knives about dangerously. ‘Start kissing.’

  ‘He’s right,’ said Crabbit. ‘Just snog the lad and see what happens. I guarantee it won’t make him any worse!’

  Jill nodded and knelt before Snowy. He looked just as if he were sleeping, just as beautiful as when he was healthy.

  She touched his cheek. He was still warm. Apart from being clinically dead, there didn’t seem to be much wrong with him.

  She stroked his snowy-white hair and leant over him.

  Closer and closer she drew, until finally, as softly as you like, she allowed her lips to touch his.

  His eyes snapped open.

  CHAPTER 15

  Ella and her mum invited Harry for dinner. They laughed and chatted about football, and all three were as happy as they’d been in a long, long time.

  The following Saturday, Harry knocked in a hat-trick against Rangers, prompting headlines such as: HAT-TRICK HERO HARRY: ‘MY ELLA INSPIRED ME!’ which, in turn, prompted Jack to grumble to his sister that she could’ve waited until after the Old Firm derby to set her Fairy Godmaw on the happy couple.

  Ella received a large amount of compensation from her former foster family, which she publicly donated to charity, telling journalists: ‘What dae I want wi’ money? I’m marrying Harry Charmaine!’

  ‘So tell me, mirror, and tell me true,’ said King, a satisfied grin spreading across his wicked face, ‘Who is now the bonniest living man in the Greater Glasgow Area?’

  The mirror yawned. ‘Alas, Mr King, it’s still Snowy White.’

  ‘That’s impossible!’ snarled King. ‘I killed him myself!’

  ‘You poisoned him with a magical poison, which is essentially a spell,’ the mirror explained patiently. ‘Every spell has a counter-spell, and true love’s kiss is the antidote to yours. Unfortunately, your beautiful victim got it in time.’

  ‘What?’ roared King. ‘Inconceivable!’

  ‘No, Mr King, I’m telling you the truth. And you’ll never guess who he got it off of? Your ex-girlfriend! How’s that for an irony?’

  King fumed. The mirror seemed to be enjoying his frustration.

  ‘How did ye no just slash his throat like a normal psycho?’

  King lost what remained of his temper. He picked up a chair and slung it with all his might at the mirror … and it bounced back with a flash of golden, magical light.

&nbs
p; King was pulled out of his rage for a moment by bewilderment.

  The horrible, twisted face in the mirror let out a demonic sigh. ‘I can only be destroyed by a magical object, Mr King. As far as you’re concerned I’m indestructible.’

  For the first time, King was scared of his mirror, and backed away. ‘You’re a monster!’

  ‘Aye,’ said the mirror. ‘So are you, but a monster of a different sort.’

  ‘I’m no a monster,’ said King. ‘At least … I don’t want to be.’

  The mirror could tell that King was starting to doubt himself. Its favourite toy might not want to play anymore, and that could not be allowed.

  ‘Mr King, I am your friend,’ it said softly. ‘Your only friend. Now, you have earned the right to get whatever you want. You have earned the right to be the bonniest man in Glasgow. That means Snowy White must die.’

  ‘Aye,’ said King.

  ‘Good. Glad we’re agreed. Now, I can help you … but you’re gonnae have to stop trying to kill me, because frankly, it’s a wee bit rude.’

  ‘Aye, you’re right,’ said King. ‘Snowy must die, and I need your help.’

  There was just a hint of doubt creeping into his voice.

  A magical object which could destroy the mirror was being tossed into the air and caught again by Crabbit as she waited outside the Adelphi Centre in the Gorbals.

  She had arranged to meet Jill outside her workplace on her lunch break.

  ‘Hi, Crabbit,’ said Jill.

  Crabbit caught the crystal ball and held onto it. ‘Hi, Jill.’

  ‘This is the first time you’ve been outside the house in years, isn’t it?’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘How do you feel?’

  ‘Terrified.’ Crabbit sighed, ‘but the cloaking spell is gone. Oor hoose isnae safe anymore, and wi’ Demenscient dead, we don’t need it anymore. Me and the boys think it’s time to take our chances in the real world.’

  ‘Good for you,’ said Jill.

  ‘How’s Snowy?’

  ‘Still shaken,’ said Jill. ‘That’s to be expected, I suppose. Being deid fair takes it oot o’ ye.’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘He’s staying at Jack’s for now. We reckon that’s the safest place for him, ’cause Jack can call the sword if necessary.’