Glasgow Fairytale

by Alastair D. McIver

  What looked at a glance like a large bug seemed, on closer inspection, to be a very small man, with wings … and a lopsided crown.

  He was flying, sort of, but it looked more like jumping, for he was flying drunkenly, getting a few feet into the air before crashing into something or someone.

  When he reached Jack’s table, he tried to fly up, crumpled his nose, and decided perhaps he’d better climb.

  On reaching the top of the table, he staggered about, barely able to stand.

  ‘Thumbelininina,’ he slurred at the top of his tiny lungs. ‘It is I, (hic!) the Ping of the Kixies … I mean the King of the Pixies (hic!) yer one true love! Yer destiny! So come oot here and gie’s a kiss!’

  Thumbelina hopped out of Jack’s pocket and down his tie.

  All eyes were upon their table, and there was silence. There was no hiding the fact that Jack had had a tiny woman in his pocket all this time, or that a tiny drunk man had come to court her.

  A voice whispered, ‘It’s witchcraft!’

  ‘How dare you?’ Thumbelina demanded. ‘Two o’ my best friends have just lost their mammy, and you’re barging in here right after the funeral? How dare you?’

  The King of the Pixies staggered a step back. ‘But-but … you and me are destined to be together! You’ve to be my Queen! It’s destiny, so it is!’

  ‘On yer bike, ya drunken bampot!’ cried Thumbelina. ‘I don’t take orders fae destiny!’ With that, she shoved him off the table.

  ‘You’re making a mistake!’ cried the King. ‘Nobody spurns the King o’ the Pixies!’

  He half-staggered, half-flew from the building.

  ‘Are you sure aboot this?’ Jill asked Thumbelina, gently. ‘I mean, it’s what you wanted. What you’ve dreamed aboot. What you’ll no shut up aboot …’

  ‘Och, I don’t need the likes o’ him!’ cried Thumbelina. ‘See yous lot? Yous lot are sad, needing to be paired off afore ye can be happy! I’m happy just the way I am. Just me and my friends. I mean … I’ve got amazing friends. I really do.’

  Jill stroked her with a pinkie. ‘You’re awright, Thumbsy. You’re awright.’

  CHAPTER 19

  The big day came, and what a lovely day it was!

  Jack, Snowy, Harry and the Frog Prince stood in their kilts on Glasgow Green, awaiting their brides.

  ‘Let’s go through this one more time,’ said Harry. ‘I’m your Best Man … you’re Snowy’s Best Man … Snowy’s the Frog Prince’s Best Man … and the Frog Prince is my Best Man.’

  ‘Aye,’ said Jack. ‘It’s no that hard.’

  ‘Och, well I was only asking!’ insisted Harry.

  ‘Sorry,’ said Jack. ‘I didnae mean to snap.’

  ‘That’s okay,’ said Harry. ‘Ye nervous?’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘What ye mair nervous aboot? The wedding or the war?’

  Jack shook his head and tried to laugh. ‘Six o’ wan, half a dozen o’ the other, mate.’

  ‘So whose ring have I got?’

  ‘Mine,’ said Jack, ‘because you’re my Best Man.’

  ‘So we’ll be handing the rings round in a circle?’

  At that, Snowy burst out laughing. ‘Rings in a circle! Sorry … I’m easily amused.’

  Thumbelina popped her head out of Jack’s shirt pocket. ‘Never mind nervous,’ she said, ominously. ‘Question is, are you ready?’

  ‘Aye,’ said Jack. ‘I’m ready.’

  * * *

  Jill, Ella, Crabbit and Rapunzel gathered in Jill’s living room, wearing their wedding dresses, waiting for the taxi.

  The atmosphere was one of dread and tension, not excitement and butterflies.

  ‘Well,’ said Ella, dryly. ‘Here it is. The happiest day of our lives.’

  ‘Aye,’ said Jill.

  ‘There will be many press photographers,’ said Rapunzel. ‘I am sure we do not want our confrontation with Mr King in the newspapers …’

  ‘Way ahead of ye,’ said Jill. ‘I’ve put an anti-photography spell over the whole o’ Glasgow Green. Don’t worry, it won’t affect Aunt Heather’s camera, so there will be actual wedding photies. I’m also gonnae put a memory hex on all the journalists and paparazzi. Whatever happens, they’ll no remember it, and they’ll no get a picture of it.’

  ‘Good,’ said Ella. ‘I’ve already told the press there’s gonnae be some improvised theatre. Avant-garde, so they’ll no be expecting it to make sense.’

  ‘Clever girl,’ said Jill with a warm smile.

  ‘What aboot the polis?’ said Crabbit, shifting uncomfortably under the dress she didn’t feel quite herself in, and the layers of make-up that made her look almost human. ‘I mean, sooner or later they’ll realise they’re not watching any improvised theatre.’

  ‘I’ll put a sleeping spell on them,’ said Jill. ‘It’ll become active as soon as any magic is used. Probably when the Wee Man shows up, or King calls for his club, or Jack calls for his sword.’ She sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. ‘Boy, my Special Cupboard’s gonnae be near empty by the time this is over! I hope I’m alive to care.’

  ‘Something has been troubling me,’ said Rapunzel. ‘When it comes time to throw the bouquet, do we throw one each or one between the four of us?’

  Jill and Ella exchanged a glance, then burst out laughing.

  ‘What?’ asked Rapunzel. ‘What is funny about that?’

  ‘I’m-I’m sorry,’ Ella managed between guffaws. ‘It’s just … I wasnae expecting anyone to say anything aboot the actual wedding!’

  ‘It’s our Wedding Day,’ giggled Jill. ‘We cannae mention the wedding!’

  The two dissolved in laughter.

  The intercom buzzed and the laughter suddenly abruptly.

  ‘Taxi’s here,’ said Jill.

  ‘Aye,’ replied Ella. ‘This is it.’

  Jill answered the intercom. ‘Aye, we’ll be doon in a minute.’

  The four women gulped in harmony.

  ‘Well … this is it,’ said Jill.

  ‘Aye,’ said Ella. ‘High-fives all round.’

  The brides briefly slapped each other’s palms, gathered their things, and left the flat.

  Jill was led down the aisle by her Fairy Godmaw; Ella by Harry’s dad; Rapunzel by the man who ran the drop-in centre where Jack did his community service; and Crabbit by Dragonman.

  The Freaks were all made up to look as normal as possible, but they were still drawing stares and camera flashes.

  Finally, the brides were lined up face-to-face with their grooms, but none of them was able to give much thought to that. They were all distracted by the fact that they could well be married and widowed within minutes.

  ‘We are gathered here today,’ the Minister was saying, ‘to celebrate the joining of not one couple, but four, who have chosen to join each other in bonds of matrimony. To be cherished and loved throughout the great adventure of their lives. It is not the end of a story, mark my words … it is the beginning.’

  None of the brides or grooms were listening. The threat of doom was far stronger in their bellies than the promise of joy.

  Then the Minister said, ‘If anyone knows of any reason why any of these couples cannot be legally wed, let him speak now or forever hold his peace.’

  There was a great commotion as someone pushed their way through the crowd.

  The man with a wolf by his side was wearing an anorak with its hood up, mirror shades and a scarf over most of his mouth. No one who wasn’t expecting him knew it was King.

  All four brides and all four grooms were almost relieved to see him. This was it. It beat waiting.

  ‘Aye!’ shouted the man, as he was roundly photographed in vain. ‘I know a reason yous cannae get married! You’re all aboot to die!’

  ‘Very well spoken, sir,’ said the Wolf.

  There was a great mutter from the crowd. They all knew to expect some sort of performance, but this was not the moment at which it had been expected.

  Jack and
Jill both approached King. Jill pushed her way in front of Jack.

  Ella’s flowing dress had a hidden compartment sewn into it, so she was able to zip the flower girl, Upenda, into the very fabric of the dress. No one noticed this taking place, as they were distracted by the outrageous behaviour of King and the Wolf.

  ‘I’ll die afore I’ll let anyone touch you,’ Ella whispered to her dress.

  ‘That’s no much comfort,’ the dress muttered back.

  Meanwhile, Jill was approaching King. ‘Reggie. We’ve been expecting you. Hate to disappoint ye, but yer invitation didnae get lost in the post.’

  ‘Aw, I was gonnae say that,’ grumbled Jack.

  ‘You know why I’m here,’ growled King. ‘Step aside.’

  ‘Never,’ said Jill. ‘Only way to my family is through me.’

  ‘I don’t want to do that, Jillipoos,’ said King. ‘But I will, if I have to.’

  ‘It’s no too late to walk away fae this,’ said Jill, softly. ‘Reggie, please. Turn around and walk away. Then naebody gets hurt.’

  King shook his head. ‘It’s gone too far for that, Jill. After what they done to me …’

  ‘I didnae want them to do that. I was angry with them.’

  ‘No angry enough to let me destroy them, though?’

  ‘No, because whatever they done, I love them. And because … you did sort of bring it on yersel’.’

  ‘Wolf,’ seethed King. ‘Avoid killing that one if you possibly can. Other than that … kill!’

  ‘It would be my pleasure,’ replied the Wolf. And he pounced on King.

  King tried to struggle free, but the Wolf was too strong.

  ‘Did you think you could go on fooling me?’ demanded the Wolf. ‘Did you think I wouldn’t find out the mirror you promised to loan me was destroyed before we ever met? Oh, Mr King, it is the insult to me, as much as the deception, for which you are about to die!’

  A voice from behind him cried, ‘Sword!’

  There was a gasp from the crowd, as a great, flaming sword appeared in Jack’s hands. What power he felt as he held it high above his head! He roared as he brought it down on the wolf and cleft off the beast’s head.

  That might well have been the moment at which the police would have realised something very real was going on, and chosen to intervene … were they not fast asleep.

  A flurry of flashes failed to capture the action.

  The assembled guests moved back. Children screamed. Adults gasped. They were beginning to realise this was not theatre.

  King rolled away, scrambled to his feet and yelled, ‘Club!’ The magical club of Rumpelstiltskin appeared in his hands.

  For a moment, he and Jack stared at each other, wielding their respective weapons, poised to pounce.

  ‘Shield!’ cried Jack, and the magical shield was in his free hand. ‘I just saved your life, mate,’ he panted to King.

  ‘Why?’ demanded King.

  ‘Because your ex-girlfriend made me promise,’ said Jack. ‘Go home King. We’re even.’

  ‘No we’re not!’ snarled King. ‘You think I care about my life?’ He tore off his disguise. There was a gasp as everyone present recognised him, and irrelevant cameras clicked away.

  ‘LOOK AT ME!’ cried King.

  ‘What a pathetic creature,’ spat Jill. ‘I’ve never been happy with the way I look, but I live. My life is beautiful, filled with beautiful friends. You think the looks ye had were all you had to live for? Well, maybe ye are better dead.’

  There was a flash of light and Rumpelstiltskin appeared by King’s side.

  ‘Enough talking,’ hissed the elf. ‘Start the slaughter!’

  Jack roared as he struck the creature with his flaming sword.

  Rumpelstiltskin screamed and, in a great ball of fire, was gone.

  In an instant, Jack had the sword back over his shoulder, poised to despatch King. ‘It’s over, King,’ he breathed. ‘Magic cannae outlive the magician. Your wee friend is dead, so your club is just a worthless hunk o’ wood. You lose!’

  No sooner had Jack spoken than the impotence of King’s weapon was demonstrated; snatched from his hand by a lasso of Rapunzel’s hair.

  She pulled her pleats to safety, and Jack plunged his sword into the weapon on the ground. It was burnt to a cinder in an instant.

  Rumpelstiltskin reappeared.

  ‘You are successful,’ he said, without emotion. ‘You will keep your part of the bargain, I trust?’

  ‘What?’ cried King. ‘I saw you die.’

  ‘Actually, you just saw him vanish, with a wee bit o’ special effects,’ said Jack. ‘Magic only works if ye believe it, so when you believed yer club was useless, it was.’

  Jill grinned from ear to ear. ‘Nicely done.’

  King’s eyes were wide like an animal’s, as he looked this way and that in a blind panic. ‘I don’t understand!’

  ‘The midget’s on oor side, ya moron!’ elucidated Thumbelina.

  ‘Alas, it is true,’ explained Rumpelstiltskin. ‘It was I who tipped the Wolf off regarding your deception.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘When I offered you alliance, it was in earnest. But circumstances have changed. I agreed to help our former enemies, and they agreed to let me spend alternate weekends with my daughter, providing I do not attempt to leave this world with her. It has been sealed with an unbreakable oath.’

  ‘In exchange for that,’ said Jack, ‘we won’t plaster his name all over the Internet.’

  ‘When one says my name, its power over me diminishes but slightly. I had hoped it would soon be gone, but a million saying my name? All at once? No, I cannot cope with the magic of this modern world.’ He turned his red eyes to the heavens in anguish, and made a fist.

  ‘I had such plans for the child! I would slay her mother and her allies, and raise her as a dark elf, in a world of darkness, away from human influence, and train her well in the ways of evil!’ His head dipped and he unclenched his fist. ‘But I suppose there are other ways to be a good parent.’

  ‘You have no magic mirror,’ Jack told King. ‘You have no magic weapon and you have no magic allies. Noo, away ye go and stop disrupting my wedding!’

  King hung his head, defeated.

  ‘Wait!’ called the Frog Prince, striding forward.

  ‘What are you doing?’ demanded King. ‘Get him away from me!’

  The Frog Prince grabbed him firmly with his huge, black hands … and kissed him on the forehead.

  With that kiss, a yellowish glow passed over King’s face … and the scars and burns were gone. He had his old face back. He was the second-bonniest man in Glasgow again.

  He screamed, holding his face. He could feel the change, but didn’t know what was happening. ‘What have you done to me?!’ he screamed.

  ‘Reggie, your face!’ cried Jill. She borrowed a mirror from one of her bridesmaids and handed it to him.

  ‘But why?’ said King.

  ‘It is called mercy,’ said the Frog Prince. ‘I give it unto thee whether thou deservest it or nay. When thou understandest why, thou wilt perhaps be a step closer to deserving.’

  King felt such a flood of emotions he didn’t know what to do. His reason to kill was gone, as well as his means, but the urge remained. He felt glad to have his looks back, but humiliated by the events leading up to it. He felt gratitude toward those he hated … but he still hated them. And he felt a new emotion, one he had never known before: humility.

  It was all too much for him. He turned around and ran away, sobbing and the cheer that went up shook the very foundations of the city.

  Then, when the din died down, a single voice was heard to say, ‘Bob the Builder!’

  The Freaks rolled on the ground laughing. Poor Crabbit got grass stains on her wedding dress.

  When the laughter faded, Ella cleared her throat.

  ‘Well,’ she said. ‘Noo that that wee bit o’ drama’s by wi’, I think we should get on wi’ the wedding so’s we can all get
down to living happily ever after.’

  And that’s exactly what they did.

  COPYRIGHT

  First published 2010

  by Black & White Publishing Ltd

  29 Ocean Drive, Edinburgh EH6 6JL

  www.blackandwhitepublishing.com

  This electronic edition published in 2014

  ISBN: 978 1 84502 809 1 in EPub format

  ISBN: 978 1 84502 330 0 in paperback format

  Copyright © Alastair D. McIver 2010

  The right of Alastair D. McIver to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  Ebook compilation by RefineCatch Ltd, Bungay