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Wishful Thinking (How To Be The Best Damn Faery Godmother In The World (Or Die Trying) Book 1)

Page 3

by Helen Harper


  ‘If nothing was funny,’ he said, ‘then why were you laughing?’

  I tried to put it into words. ‘It’s like when you’re at a funeral and you can’t stop giggling. You know?’

  His frown deepened. ‘No. I don’t know.’

  ‘It’s a situation that creates a sort of uncontrollable hysteria,’ I said, doing my best to explain but feeling like I was digging myself into a massive hole from which there would never be any escape. ‘It’s not that it’s actually funny. It’s that the anxiety and heightened emotion forces you into laughing.’

  He leaned towards me. ‘I make you anxious?’

  I shrugged. He was the Devil’s Advocate. Making people anxious was in his job description. He was in the very position that he was because he was considered the most powerful faery in the country. That was exactly why it was his job to keep everyone else in line. ‘Yeah.’ Duh.

  His eyes darkened. ‘And my presence heightens your emotions?’ He gazed at me with a freakish intensity. ‘Which emotions precisely?’

  My cheeks began to flame red. Uh. Um. I twisted my hands as my brain continued to flounder. It was like that time when I was fourteen years old and I’d just been caught smoking a joint round the back of the school janitor’s shed. On that occasion my path as a dope faery was carved out for me before I could so much as pretend I was holding the joint for a friend. The wrong answer now might send me back to where I’d come from. I flailed.

  The Devil’s Advocate pulled away. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m only teasing you.’ Teasing? I gaped. Since when did the Devil’s Advocate tease? He raised an eyebrow and I caught a slight gleam of humour in his expression. ‘You’re not a faery godmother, are you?’

  I coughed and tried to recover my equilibrium. I raised my chin up and met his eyes square on. ‘Actually,’ I said, ‘I am. It’s my first day though.’ Maybe that admission would encourage him to go easy on me. ‘My name is Saffron Sawyer.’

  Sudden interest sparked in his eyes. ‘Ah,’ he said. ‘So you’re the one.’

  What? I swallowed. ‘You’ve heard about me?’

  The lift jerked as it reached its correct floor and came to a halt. ‘Indeed I have.’ He paused as the door opened. ‘You’re brave to come here,’ he said quietly. ‘Good luck.’

  Brave? This was my dream job. I opened my mouth to say something in return but he’d already stepped out. A group of people were already there waiting. I wasn’t so naïve as to think the welcoming committee was for me. I watched as the Devil’s Advocate was hustled away into one of the offices beyond. I had no idea what to make of what he’d said. It seemed incomprehensible that he knew who I was. It was unusual for faeries to switch jobs like I had but it wasn’t unheard of. I bit my lip and pondered it further. Then the lift doors began to close and I panicked. I threw myself out before I could be whisked back down to the lobby again. Enough already. Whatever the Devil’s Advocate was doing here, I had other concerns. I’d never get another chance to make a first impression on my new employers.

  Chapter Three

  ‘Your work station is here,’ stated the squat, balding man who’d introduced himself as Billy. He pointed at a dusty corner in the open plan office. Although a surprisingly large number of the more well appointed desks were both empty and clean, as far as I could tell, this one had been used as a dumping ground for other people’s crap. There were several filing boxes, each of which was bursting at the seams, and an array of crumpled wrappers from various snacks. Pinned to the wall was a yellowing poster with fire evacuation procedures and a scribbled advert for the staff Christmas party which, judging by the date, took place three years ago.

  I beamed. ‘It’s wonderful! Thank you.’

  Billy grunted. ‘Are you mad?’

  Possibly. I glanced at him.

  ‘You don’t have to be mad to work here,’ he told me without cracking a smile. He paused for dramatic effect. ‘But it helps.’

  ‘Ha!’ I nodded vigorously. ‘Yes. I see. Good joke.’

  He stared at me. ‘I wasn’t joking.’ He sniffed and turned on his heel, walking away.

  I shrugged to myself and pulled out the swivel chair next to my heaving desk. It jolted when I sat down on it, the seat slipping several inches downwards. I grimaced and stood back up to fiddle with the mechanism and return it to a more useable height. Unfortunately, the plastic knob was jammed. I gritted my teeth and twisted it as hard as I could. It was a fatal error. It creaked once and snapped off in my hand. Now the chair was stuck at dwarf height for the rest of eternity.

  I’d admit it was a setback, albeit a minor one. I looked around. There had to be another free chair around somewhere. I eyed the desk next to me. The chair there seemed alright. I could swap them around. Then, however, an older woman appeared. Without paying me any attention whatsoever, she plonked down a cup of coffee, grabbed the chair and sat down. Her steel grey hair was set in rollers and she wore a set of pince nez spectacles. She actually looked like the sort of faery godmother you’d read about in a human child’s book.

  ‘Hello!’ I peered round the partition wall. ‘I’m Saffron.’

  ‘Delilah.’

  It was time to start making friends. I wouldn’t give anyone else the opportunity to act like Alicia had. In order to do that, I had to set the tone. ‘We’re going to be office buddies!’ I burbled. ‘I know we’ll get on wonderfully!’

  Unfortunately, I used a tad too much enthusiasm. Delilah rolled her eyes and edged her chair away from me.

  ‘Are there are any more chairs?’ I asked, toning down the bounce in my voice to indicate that I too could be somber and serious as this job required. ‘My one seems to be broken.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘It’ll be difficult for me to get any work done because I’m not sure I’ll be able to reach my desk if I sit on the chair I’ve got.’

  Delilah used her middle finger to push her spectacles up her nose. ‘Honey,’ she said tiredly, ‘no-one cares.’ She reached for her computer mouse and began clicking. It appeared our conversation was over.

  I pursed my lips. Despite the high regard the faery godmother office was held in, so far my new co-workers were most definitely not happy, contented people. I told myself that was only natural. This was high-paced, high stressed, vitally important work. Not to mention that I was a stranger. It was quite possible that my lack of a decent welcome so far was because everyone felt threatened by my arrival. The Devil’s Advocate had heard of me. Alicia, Figgy and Rupert had all been concerned enough about my appearance to both gossip about me and attempt to bully me. They must all know that I was the highest achieving dope faery in more than twenty years. It stood to reason that they’d feel concerned I was here to throw shade. It was troubling but I remained reasonably confident. They’d all soon realise that I was the ultimate team player. In any case, no amount of snide remarks or unfriendly colleagues could dampen my enthusiasm. I looked around the busy office, breathing in the productive hum. This was going to be fabulous. I was going to be fabulous. Whether I could reach my desk or not.

  ‘Ms Sawyer.’

  I jumped at the sound of the voice behind me and whirled round. Adeline Motus, second in command to the Director himself, was standing there with her arms folded. I wasn’t overly concerned by her stern expression. She’d looked exactly the same throughout my entire interview and she’d still given me the job. She was just a serious person in a serious position, that was all.

  Adeline tapped her foot. ‘Ms Sawyer,’ she said again, ‘I don’t know what things were like in your previous office, but here we expect a certain level of tidiness. Whether this is your first day or not, you should keep your desk clean.’

  I bit back my automatic apology. I wasn’t a trouble-maker. I wasn’t a doormat either though. ‘All these things were already here when I arrived,’ I said. ‘I’m not sure what to do with them.’

  ‘I can’t abide excuses. Anyone who needs to make excuses for themselves is merely lazy.’

>   I scratched my neck, wishing away the hot flush that I could already feel rising up my skin. ‘Should I throw them out?’

  ‘I don’t care what you do with them,’ Adeline sniffed. ‘All I care is that you keep your desk clean. Especially today. The Devil’s Advocate is here.’

  I nodded. ‘Oh yeah, I know. We shared the lift up together.’

  Adeline didn’t blink. I felt myself pinned by her gaze. Even Delilah swiveled round in her chair to stare at me. ‘You shared the lift?’ Her voice dripped with disbelief, as if it were completely inconceivable that I could have been in the same space, breathing the same air as the scourge of the faery world. ‘And he didn’t mind?’

  I coughed. ‘He told me to come up with him.’

  Adeline leaned forward. ‘What did he say?’ she demanded. ‘Did you talk?’

  Informing her that I’d spent most of the lift ride giggling hysterically probably wouldn’t paint me in a very favourable light. ‘He, uh, wished me good luck.’

  She stared at me even harder. ‘Did he indeed.’ Her lips tightened. ‘You’ll need more than luck to do well around here.’

  I straightened my shoulders. ‘That’s why I’m keen to get started right away.’ I put on my best eager to please expression. Jacob had loved it when I did that and had often taken it as a measure of his own brilliance. I had the feeling, however, that Adeline would be a tougher nut to crack.

  ‘It will be some time before we let you loose on the public,’ she said. ‘This is a complex job. You will need considerable training first.’

  I smiled. ‘I can’t wait.’

  She frowned at me, her expression clouding with suspicion. I wasn’t being facetious though. I’d do all the training they wanted, regardless of what it was, just so long as I could stay here. ‘You can wait,’ she said. ‘And you will. First of all, there are manuals to be read and papers to be signed. Not to mention sorting out your identification and your equipment.’

  I couldn’t prevent the gleeful grin from spreading across my face. ‘Equipment?’

  Adeline rolled her eyes. ‘Here,’ she said, thrusting a piece of paper in my face with a checklist on it. ‘Do these things first. When you are done, come and talk to me.’ She sniffed loudly and stalked off.

  ‘Wow,’ I said to Delilah, ‘she takes no prisoners, huh?’

  Delilah didn’t hear me. ‘Tell me what he was like,’ she breathed.

  I scratched my head. ‘Who?’ Then I realised. ‘Oh, the Devil’s Advocate.’ I shrugged. ‘He seemed nice enough. A bit stern perhaps but he was alright. What’s he doing here?’

  Delilah glanced around, checking that no-one was listening in. ‘Pre-inspection,’ she whispered. ‘He’s setting the tone before he comes in to do his full audit.’

  I started. ‘The Faery Godmothers are being audited?’ That was almost unheard of. This office was usually held in such high esteem that they were left to get on with things themselves. We were left to get on with things ourselves, I reminded myself. I was part of this office now.

  Delilah looked down. ‘Yes, well, everyone gets audited sooner or later,’ she said. ‘It must have happened all the time with the dope faeries.’

  Apparently, my reputation really did precede me. ‘Not while I was there,’ I told her. Then, unnecessarily, I added, ‘We did our jobs well.’

  ‘It can’t be hard though, can it?’ she said. ‘I mean, all you’re doing is creating trippy dreams for zoned out drug addicts. It’s not …,’ her lip curled, ‘honorable.’

  That depended on your point of view. Despite my moans to Harry, I was proud that I’d managed to bring sixty-three people into rehab through the dreams that I’d granted them through their drug induced hazes. I knew instinctively that Delilah would never understand that the care dope faeries gave their clients could often steer them away from a destructive path, however. I thought briefly of the two deaths that had occurred on my watch. I might have been unable to bring them back to the light but my work had ensured that those people had slipped away without fear or horror. Perhaps it wasn’t honorable work. Perhaps I’d been finding it unsatisfying towards the end. But, for all their faults, I’d liked my clients and done my best by them.

  ‘We all have our roles to play,’ I murmured.

  Her eyes narrowed slightly. ‘You might find this one more challenging.’ She looked at me expectantly. ‘Did you ever have anyone famous? I’d love to see inside the head of one of those Hollywood stars.’

  Data protection was as important with dope faeries as with faery godmothers. ‘The thing about those Hollywood stars,’ I said, ‘is that they tend to be in Hollywood. Not rainy Britain.’

  Delilah tossed her head. ‘So that’s a no then.’ She turned back to her computer, indicating that our conversation was over. I debated conjuring up a juicy titbit about the Devil’s Advocate, as it was clear that gossip was the way to Delilah’s heart. I wasn’t going to get drawn into those kind of office politics though. That’s not what I was here for.

  I returned my attention to the piece of paper which Adeline had given me. Top of the list was arranging for my godmother ID. I beamed to myself. It would make my new job title official. I was more than ready for my close-up.

  ***

  There wasn’t a specially designated studio area. There wasn’t a professional photographer. It was just me and a bored looking teenager in a corner of the main office. As far as I could tell he was on work experience.

  ‘I have to take your photo,’ he said, ‘then I’ll print it onto the laminated card along with your thumb print. Once you have that, you can gain access to all areas of the building.’

  I patted my hair self-consciously. ‘Do you have a mirror?’ I asked.

  He fiddled with his camera and didn’t look up. ‘You look fine. Say cheese.’

  I blinked. ‘What?’

  The camera flashed. ‘Done,’ he said.

  ‘Wait! I wasn’t ready!’ I wasn’t sure I’d been looking at the camera.

  ‘The photo is fine. What’s your name?’

  ‘Saffron Sawyer. Let me see the photo in case we need to take another one.’ I wasn’t vain but if I had to have this ID displayed for the entirety of my tenure here, I wanted it to at least look like me.

  ‘There’s no time.’ He picked at a scab on his chin. ‘You’ve got to go to HR now.’ He picked up the camera and walked off, with the shuffling gait of someone who actually had all the time in the world.

  I stared after him. It was only a photo. How bad could it be anyway? I gave myself a nod of vague reassurance that it would be fine then twisted round. Where was HR anyway?

  Spotting a closed door not too far away, I headed in that direction. It was worth a try. When I opened the door, however, all I was confronted with was a mop and a few buckets.

  ‘Planning on doing some cleaning?’ a voice inquired.

  I glanced round and spotted Rupert, the male faery I’d met down in the lobby. Hoping that I wasn’t in for another round of pointed digs as I really did have better things to do, I gave him a small smile. ‘I’m looking for HR,’ I said. ‘I could do with a map. This place is a maze.’

  ‘It’s over there.’ He gestured towards the other side of the room. ‘You can tell it’s HR because the closer you get to them the more joy is sucked from your soul.’

  I looked at him. He grinned. ‘You’ll find your way around soon enough.’ He hesitated. ‘Sorry about earlier. You know, downstairs. It’s been a long time since we had anyone new come into the office. Normally the new starts are already known to us. Faery godmothers tend to keep it in the family. I’m sure you know that though.’

  I proceeded carefully. ‘You’re a faery god … father?’ It used to be that godmothers were only ever female. Male faeries had petitioned for decades to be allowed access and given the same opportunities as us women. They’d finally gained admittance but old habits were hard to break. Blame Francis Ford Coppola if you like but, let’s face it, faery godmother had a better ring t
o it than faery godfather.

  For his part, Rupert appeared unbothered by the terminology. ‘Technically I am. Around here we stick to godmother though. It makes it simpler. I don’t actually go out in the field much these days. I spend most of my time setting assignments.’ He patted my arm. ‘I’ll make sure you get some good ones. You’ll find it hard here to begin with but it’s very rewarding. The others will come around soon enough.’

  Despite his current friendly attitude towards me, I didn’t trust Rupert even a tiny bit. Not yet. Not after the encounter downstairs. All the same, I smiled serenely. ‘I know.’ I pointed off towards HR. ‘I’d better go. Thanks for your help.’

  He swept into a mock bow. ‘You’re welcome.’

  I wended my way around various pieces of office furniture, feeling Rupert’s eyes on my back the entire time. I straightened my posture. A ramrod straight back might make walking somewhat more complicated but I knew I had to project confidence.

  ‘You can do this, Saffron,’ I muttered under my breath as the HR door opened. ‘You are more than capable.’

  The Devil’s Advocate appeared in the doorway and raised an eyebrow in my direction. ‘Talking to yourself already, Ms Sawyer?’

  ‘Pep talk,’ I told him.

  ‘I suppose it’s better than hysteria.’

  ‘It is.’ I nodded vigorously. ‘You should try it.’ I deepened my voice in an effort to mimic his. ‘All you have to do, Devil’s Advocate, is terrify everyone into the entire building. Make their knees knock and their lips tremble. Then whip them into shape.’ I gave him an encouraging smile and returned my voice to normal. ‘Like that.’

  He leaned towards me. ‘I left my whip at home. I usually find that a well written report is more than enough to suffice.’

  I couldn’t stop myself from grinning. The man had more of a sense of humour than I’d ever heard him be credited with. ‘I’ve always been a fan of cutting comments myself.’

 

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