Glasgow Fairytale

by Alastair D. McIver

  ‘You’re no stupid, Snowy.’

  ‘I accepted sweets from a stranger when I knew there was someone out there trying to kill me,’ said Snowy. ‘I’d say that qualifies as stupid.’

  Jill shrugged. ‘Well, when you put it that way … But everyone’s stupid sometimes. Look at me: I’ve got six Highers, and I’d still be a’ day shoving my weight into a door that says, “Pull”.’ She put a hand on his shoulder. ‘Nae sense beating yerself up aboot it. You’re alright noo. You’re definitely not stupid.’

  Snowy smiled at her. She was such a warm person. That had been obvious the first time he had looked into those big, brown eyes.

  ‘Tell you what,’ he said, ‘I’ll admit I’m not stupid, if you’ll admit you’re beautiful.’

  Jill smiled and blushed. ‘It’s no that easy.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because I’ve … I’ve reconciled myself to being a big, fat lump. I’m okay with it, now.’

  ‘Fat is relative,’ shrugged Snowy. ‘If my mother were to see you, she’d say, “That lass doesn’t eat enough,” and start shovelling haggis down you as a matter of urgency.’

  Jill laughed out loud. ‘No likely. I’m a vegetarian.’

  ‘If you told her that, she’d faint.’ Snowy stroked her hair. ‘You have great beauty, Jill. It’s not the sort of beauty that gets you on the cover of a magazine, but that’s not the sort of beauty a man remembers for long. Your beauty has nothing to do with how fat or thin you are. It comes from deep inside you and shines through your eyes and your smile. It’s the sort of beauty that can get right into a man’s soul and make him love you at a glance … which is the only reason I’m here, after all.’

  Jill avoided his gaze. On the one hand, she enjoyed the flattery. On the other, she was unused to it, and had absolutely no idea how to deal with it.

  ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘I said I’d show you the sights.’

  ‘Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!’

  A doorway in Buchanan Street, which appeared at a glance to lead to just another shop, actually led into Princes Square, which Jill described as ‘the prettiest mall in Glasgow’.

  She never could resist going up the escalators at the near end, crossing over to the far end, and sliding down the banister there. This time she was doing so with Snowy on her knee.

  They were both helpless with laughter when they landed at the feet of a stern security guard.

  ‘I thought I tellt you no to come back in here!’ he growled at Jill, then escorted them from the premises.

  ‘Well,’ said Jill, ‘was that worth getting flung oot for?’

  ‘Absolutely!’ cried Snowy.

  They walked past a shut-down bookshop, now dark and empty. Jill’s smile faded.

  ‘Heart and soul got ripped right oot Buchanan Street when that closed,’ she mused sadly. ‘It’ll never be the same again.’

  Snowy squeezed her hand sympathetically.

  ‘See them lights?’ said Jill. Several rows of lights were strung between the bookshop and the adjacent building. ‘Used to be ye could go up the stairs by the window in the bookshop, and you’d reach a point where the lights outside were at your feet.

  ‘I always thought it looked just like a sparkly floor. Like you could just walk across it to the office over there, chap their windae and run away!’

  Snowy smiled.

  Jill sighed. ‘I miss that shop.’

  They walked up Buchanan Street, where everyone was marching unconsciously to the rhythm of their nearest busker: a saxophonist in the alleyway to the Gallery of Modern Art; a bit further up, two reggae singers with electric guitars; further still, a lone piper.

  ‘Sometimes I walk up and doon Buchanan Street just because I love it,’ Jill explained. ‘It’s so alive, you know. Ye can really dance to the heartbeat of Glasgow here. Feel it coming up through the soles o’ yer shoes.’

  ‘Aye,’ said Snowy.

  They reached the top of Buchanan Street, where Donald Dewar’s statue stood looking over the city, his glasses permanently stolen.

  ‘This is my favourite spot,’ said Jill. She looked down the street on a hill, whose tunnel-like structure showed only a slice of a view at the bottom, which went on for miles and miles, through the South Side of Glasgow, all the way to the hills beyond. It was breathtakingly beautiful.

  A cold wind blew her hair all over the place.

  ‘Unfortunately, it is a bit of a wind-tunnel …’

  ‘Aye,’ said Snowy. ‘You’ll soon ken if your fly’s undone in that!’ He took her by the hand and said, ‘Thank you for showing me Glasgow. Your Glasgow, I mean.’

  Jill grinned. ‘My Glasgow. I like that. It’s true, I suppose. Everyone’s got their ain personal Glasgow.’

  ‘Mine is wonderful, because you’re in it.’

  Her eyes lit up. ‘I feel beautiful when I’m with you.’

  ‘Well … I suppose I’ll just have to stay with you, then.’

  Then they kissed.

  CHAPTER 17

  ‘KING DISFIGURED BY THUGS!’ cried a headline, as King insisted in an interview that he was famous because of his talent, not his looks; that of course he would keep doing The Reggie King Show; that he was still the same person and nothing had really changed.

  Later that week, The Reggie King Show was cancelled.

  King sat alone in his home, for the first time in years not feeling up to working out. He had no job, no mirror and had lost his looks.

  He still wanted White dead, of course, but now it was from sheer spite.

  As for the … the monsters who had done this to him … Yes, he would like to see the end of them, too. But without his mirror, it seemed impossible.

  He was distracted from his thoughts by an unexpected sound.

  The sound of breathing.

  ‘Who’s there? Show yourself!’ he demanded, terrified.

  ‘A friend,’ came the voice, and from the shadows strutted the Wolf.

  ‘What are you doing in my house?’

  ‘Relax,’ said the Wolf. ‘I’m on your side. You were a customer of mine, once, don’t you remember? Though it’s true, we never met face-to-face. I’m the Big, Bad Wolf.’ He extended a paw.

  King simply stared at it.

  ‘Mr King, I have a proposition for you.’ The Wolf pointed to his own injuries. ‘This was done to me by three little pigs.’

  ‘What’s that to me?’ demanded King.

  ‘I had hoped you would feel some sort of kinship,’ said the Wolf, ‘since you and I were both scarred for life by our enemies. I, for one, want vengeance. Don’t you?’

  ‘What, exactly, is your proposition?’ asked King.

  ‘It’s very simple, my friend. I will help you with your revenge, and you will help me with mine.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘My sources tell me that you have quite an interesting mirror.’

  King covered up his fear by pretending to laugh. His mind was racing. The Wolf obviously didn’t know the mirror had been destroyed or he wouldn’t be here. King knew any chance of an alliance relied upon the Wolf’s remaining in the dark.

  ‘Your sources are good,’ said King. ‘That item is a fairly well-kept secret.’

  ‘No one keeps a secret from the Big, Bad Wolf for very long, Mr King.’ The Wolf grinned hungrily. ‘I think you have most likely guessed the details of my proposition. You will ask your mirror to tell you where the three little pigs are hiding, then report back to me. I, in return, will dispose of those whose existence is so troublesome to you.’

  King nodded. ‘It sounds like a good deal, but I would like you to deliver your part of the bargain first.’

  ‘Why, Mr King, don’t you trust me? I must say, I’m hurt.’

  King shrugged, smiling as pleasantly as he could. ‘You’re a vicious, amoral wolf who’s broken into my home. If I was you and you was me, would you trust you?’

  The Wolf laughed. ‘A gentleman’s word has always been good enough for m
e, Mr King, for the simple reason that if it isn’t, I rip his throat out. For this reason alone, I agree to your terms.’

  ‘Then we have an accord,’ said King, and he shook the Wolf’s paw. ‘Now get out of my house.’

  It was a curious thing, but even after the Wolf had left, King could not shake the feeling that he was not alone in the room.

  ‘Who’s there?’ he demanded.

  ‘A friend,’ hissed an evil voice.

  ‘Don’t any of my friends knock?’ demanded King. ‘Show yourself!’

  A small, hooded figure with red, glowing eyes appeared before him.

  ‘I’m calling the police,’ insisted King.

  ‘By all means,’ replied Rumpelstiltskin, appearing and disappearing several times just to demonstrate that he could. ‘You will succeed in convincing them that you are crazy, and that would amuse me.’

  ‘Who … what are you?’

  ‘My name does not concern you,’ said Rumpelstiltskin. ‘I have come to help you, and to offer you a gift.’

  ‘I don’t accept gifts from strangers,’ said King. ‘It’s a bad idea!’

  ‘You will accept this one if you are not a fool.’ Rumpelstiltskin held his tiny, gnarled hands high and yelled, ‘Club!’

  A wooden club, twice the length of the elf’s body, appeared in his hands. ‘For you.’

  King picked up the club and examined it. ‘Why would I want this? It’s a hunk of wood.’

  Rumpelstiltskin picked up the hunk of wood and brought it down upon the coffee table. There was a crackle, and what looked like lightning and the table shattered into tiny splinters of wood.

  ‘I barely tapped it,’ said Rumpelstiltskin. ‘I overheard your conversation with the Big, Bad Wolf. My sources are ahead of his, it would seem: I know that your mirror is no more.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘So, you play a dangerous game, Mr King. When the Wolf learns he has been cheated, he will be disappointed in you, and those who disappoint the Wolf do not have a high life expectancy. I can protect you from his wrath.’

  King stood up solemnly and looked at his charred and scarred face in the mirror on the wall. ‘Everything I ever gave a hoot aboot is gone. See after Snowy and the Freaks are deid and buried? I don’t care what happens to me. I have nothing left to live for.’

  ‘I had thought you were stronger than that,’ hissed Rumpelstiltskin. ‘No matter. If you want to commit suicide after the Wolf has done your bidding, that neither concerns me nor concerns me. But if the Wolf’s success is so important to you – the only thing that is important to you – well, if I were you, I would want some insurance. After all, how can you be sure he will succeed? How can you be certain he won’t learn of your deception prematurely?’

  King thought hard about that. Where was the harm in a little insurance?

  ‘What will this … insurance … cost me?’

  King couldn’t see the creature’s grin, but the sudden brightening of its eyes told him it was there.

  ‘Jack Cameron, whom I believe you know, and his wife-to-be, the one he calls Rapunzel … they have something which belongs to me. If you slay them both, I can take it back.’

  King nodded. ‘You have the magic club. How can ye no dae yer ain dirty work?’

  ‘I’m sure you understand my reluctance to explain everything. It is enough to say … they have a weapon. It is effective against me, but it won’t harm you.’

  King picked up the club and tried it himself. He knocked a large hole in the wall with a single blow.

  ‘Okay,’ said King. ‘I’ll take care of Jack and Rapunzel, then use the same club to get rid of Snowy and the Freaks … with your help, I trust.’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘And you’ll keep the Wolf off my back when he realises I’ve been at it?’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  A grin spread across King’s disfigured face, as he swung the club through the air. ‘Pleasure doing business with you.’

  Ella and Harry were the first to arrive at Jack’s housewarming party.

  ‘Hey, Jack,’ she said, hugging him and handing him a bottle of wine.

  ‘Come on in,’ said Jack, smiling warmly.

  ‘Ella!’ cried Upenda, the instant she saw her and wasted no time in jumping into her arms.

  ‘Hi, Upenda,’ said Ella, hugging her tightly. ‘It’s really good to see you again!’

  ‘It’s an honour to meet you, Mr Charmaine,’ said Jack, shaking the foot-baller’s hand.

  ‘Likewise,’ said Harry. ‘Call me Harry.’

  Ella nearly jumped out of her skin when the ostrich nuzzled her.

  ‘Bwarrkh!’ said the ostrich.

  ‘She likes you,’ said Jack. ‘Her name’s Baxter, the ostrich that lays the golden eggs.’

  ‘Hey, Baxter,’ said Ella, stroking him. ‘I wouldnae have called her Baxter, though,’ she commented. ‘She looks more like a … Henrik, or a Jinky. Or maybe even a Harry!’

  ‘I felt I owed it to her to name her after a Rangers legend,’ said Jack. ‘You can tell by the look in her eyes she’s a blue-nose.’

  ‘I’ll set the SSPCA on you,’ teased Ella. ‘Turning an innocent creature into a hun!’

  Jack laughed.

  ‘Oh,’ said Ella. ‘Nearly forgot, I brought a wee house-within-housewarming prezzie for Thumbelina.’

  ‘Now that’s what I like to hear,’ cried Thumbelina, coming out of her doll’s house.

  ‘I’ve been dying to meet you,’ said Ella, presenting her with a tiny pair of sparkly shoes.

  Thumbelina tried them on. They were a perfect fit.

  ‘Aw, you shouldnae have! Och, who am I trying to kid! Of course you should’ve! You can call me Thumbsy, by the way. You’re my friend.’ Then she added, as an afterthought, ‘I’m destined to marry the King o’ the Pixies!’

  ‘Really? Congrats!’

  Ella and Harry sat down on a sofa near the table, which was chock-a-block with food and drink.

  ‘Help yersel’ to whatever ye like. Treat this like yer ain hoose, you know? There’s plenty there. Nearest toilet is straight across the hallway oot that door.’

  ‘Oooh, “Nearest toilet”,’ mocked Ella. ‘I knew him when he was dole scum,’ she informed Harry in a stage whisper.

  Next to arrive were the Freaks and the Frog Prince.

  Introductions were made, pleasantries exchanged. Thumbelina said, ‘You’re right enough: they’re seriously ugly!’ and they all tucked into the food and drink, exchanging anecdotes and laughs.

  When Jill and Snowy arrived, laughter was replaced by an awkward silence. Jill’s glare at Crabbit seemed to say, How could you? Crabbit met her gaze unflinchingly. She was proud of what the Freaks had done.

  ‘It’s really good to meet you, Snowy,’ said Ella, trying to break it up a bit. ‘I almost killed you once. Hope there’s nae hard feelings aboot that.’

  Snowy smiled. ‘I’ve never been one to hold a grudge.’

  ‘Well, if that doesn’t call for a hug, I don’t know what does,’ said Jack.

  Ella and Snowy laughed, stood up and hugged each other. They got a round of applause.

  The guests mostly relaxed after that, although Jill maintained a steady glare at the Freaks, of whom Crabbit was the only one who would meet her gaze.

  ‘Look,’ Crabbit said, eventually. ‘We did what we had to, alright? He killed one of oor family. Aye, we were lucky enough to get him back, but he still killed him.’

  ‘I didn’t ask you to,’ said Snowy.

  ‘We have a code,’ insisted Crabbit.

  ‘And what of mercy?’ said the Frog Prince.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Mercy,’ said the Frog Prince. ‘It is the quality of acting with compassion, towards thine enemies as much as thy friends.’

  ‘I know what “mercy” means, smarty pants,’ snapped Crabbit, ‘and I’ve got to tell you, I love you, Honey, but you’ve got a lot to learn aboot being a Freak.’

  ‘But I am not a Freak, I a
m a former frog,’ the Frog Prince told her calmly. ‘I have been both a frog and a man, and I have found mercy to be the very best quality of both.’

  ‘Besides which,’ Jill interjected, ‘you’ve put all of us in danger; more danger than we were afore. You had no right.’

  ‘Snowy’s no in any more danger,’ shrugged Crabbit. ‘The Freaks are, but we all knew that when we made the decision to rearrange his face. I don’t see how the rest of yous are in danger. In fact, he might even lay off of Snowy. Let’s face it, if he wants to be the bonniest man in Glesga noo, it’s an A-bomb he’s wanting!’

  ‘Anyway,’ said Jill, seeing the need for a change of subject. ‘Ella … you said you had something you wanted to talk to me aboot?’

  ‘Yes, um …’ Ella blushed and wriggled awkwardly. ‘Actually, it’s something I wanted to run by all of yous. It’s probably daft …’

  ‘Well, what?’ said Jill, smiling. ‘What is it, Ella?’

  ‘Well,’ said Ella, ‘we’ve all become, like, really good friends … sort of. And we’d all be going to each other’s weddings and that, so why not all get married at the same time? One big wedding, instead of four?’

  ‘Five,’ Thumbelina corrected her, grumpily.

  ‘Look, your wedding’s your ain special day, and if any of yous think it’s a daft idea, we’ll say no more. But I just think … me and Harry, you and Snowy, Crabbit and the Frog Prince and Jack and Punzy … and, of course, Thumbsy and the King of the Pixies, if that’s on in time … getting married at the same time in Glasgow Green … I just think it would be, well, nice.’ She shrugged and shifted awkwardly. ‘Och, it’s a daft idea.’

  ‘Well, I think it’s a dandy idea!’ said Crabbit. ‘Wan for a’ and a’ for wan and that! What do you reckon, Honey?’

  ‘I would make thee happy,’ said the Frog Prince. ‘What thou wishest, so shall I do.’

  Crabbit giggled like a little girl. ‘Isn’t he great?’

  Rapunzel and Jack exchanged a glance.

  ‘We’re in,’ said Rapunzel.

  ‘What do you reckon?’ Jill asked Snowy.