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

by Helen Harper

  I snorted. That was hardly news to my ears. Not after my last couple of days.

  ‘With that said, however, there have been attempts to improve matters. My predecessor discussed the chance that the office would be placed under special measures…’

  My mouth dropped open. ‘No! Really?’ Only the very worst faery departments ended up like that. Special measures meant regular inspections, constant target setting and frozen funds until things improved. Unfortunately, the stress of being under special measures usually meant that things actually got a whole lot worse.

  The Devil’s Advocate nodded. ‘Oh yes. Since then there has been a marked improvement across the board. Next month’s audit was already scheduled, however, when the shit truly hit the fan.’ His mouth flattened into a grim line. ‘The kidnappings have everyone reeling. No-one has ever experienced anything like this before. Not in generations. Every single faery godmother up there is dealing not only with the anxiety about what has happened to their colleagues but fear that they will be next.’

  My rage sparked once more. ‘That doesn’t mean I should be next either!’

  He remained calm. ‘Let me finish. What I am trying to say is that the atmosphere and welcome you have experienced so far is not typical. Under different circumstances, things would be very different for you.’ He didn’t move his eyes from mine. ‘Fear causes people to react strongly. Especially when those people are faeries who aren’t used to being threatened. That’s without the atmosphere of mutual suspicion which now clouds everything. I understand you might not be impressed with your new colleagues but you should cut them some slack. They have all been struggling. Far more than they are letting on.’

  My lip curled. ‘So I’m a convenient scapegoat.’

  ‘Something like that.’ He grimaced in sympathy. ‘It doesn’t excuse the way you’re being treated but it does explain it.’

  I sniffed. ‘A few barbed comments is one thing. But…’

  ‘Being bait is something else,’ he finished. ‘Yes, I appreciate that.’ He brought his palms together as if in prayer, before resting his chin on the tips of his fingers. ‘I recommended some time ago that the office diversified itself. Long before the abductions began, I gave the Director a list of names of faeries who might suitable godmothers and who would bring different skillsets. Your name was on that list.’

  Part of me felt a warm glow at being recognised in this manner. Part of me remained disgusted. ‘So it is your fault that my life is now on the line.’

  ‘The plan to use you as bait was not my idea and I counseled against it. The Director is desperate, however. With every new disappearance, there is more strain to find out what’s going on.’ He gave me a pointed look. ‘I’m sure I don’t need to remind you of how important the families of the godmothers are and how much pressure they are able to bring to bear upon the entire department.’

  ‘That’s still no excuse,’ I said.

  ‘No,’ he answered quietly. ‘It’s not. I had initially been under the impression that you were aware of the plan and had agreed to it.’ His jaw tightened. ‘You should have been given that opportunity.’

  ‘They didn’t want to give me the chance to back out,’ I said bitterly.

  His gaze remained steady. ‘I can tell you that every precaution has been taken to ensure that you will not be in any actual danger. Every time you trigger the Metafora, you are followed. Usually within minutes. There is an entire team of faeries who are watching you work on the off-chance that you are then targeted.’

  I tilted up my chin. ‘If that’s supposed to make me feel better,’ I said, ‘it doesn’t.’

  The Devil’s Advocate exhaled. ‘No, I don’t suppose it does. Look, until now, we have had no leads. There have been no clues and no way to tell who is behind all of this. Lydia DuChamp’s ear has changed things.’

  I sat up straighter. ‘You got something from the delivery faery?’

  ‘No. He was a dead end. He never met the person who sent the ear. But I’ve been able to use some old magic to link to her ear and trace Lydia’s whereabouts. I can’t tell where she currently is but I can tell where she was. Until we had that ear, such a thing wasn’t even remotely possible. Believe me, Saffron, I’m doing everything I can to find the bastard who’s behind this without going near you and your work.’

  ‘The park,’ I said. ‘That’s why you were at St Clements Park.’

  He nodded. ‘As far as I can tell, she was taken from there. It’s not much but it’s a start. I was coming back here to check the records and see if she was at that park for any specific reason. She might have been meeting a client there. Once I can find out who, then I’ve got more chance of finding more about her actual abduction.’ His expression turned darkly earnest. ‘I am trying to find the perpetrator before anyone else gets hurt.’

  There was an odd whirring sound. Both the Devil’s Advocate and I looked around, expecting the lift to start moving again. Unfortunately, it just juddered for a moment before the whirring stopped.

  ‘Saffron,’ he said, ‘you know you can leave at any time. The dope faeries will have you back with open arms. Your old boss was most reluctant to let you go in the first place. No-one will reproach you for returning there.’

  ‘But some other poor bugger will then be drafted into my place, right? Some other expendable faery will be used as bait.’

  His gaze shifted. ‘Probably,’ he admitted.

  ‘If I walk out that door,’ I told him, ‘I’ll never be allowed back in. This is my one and only chance to be a real faery godmother. I’ve always dreamed of this. I’m won’t allow one evil bastard or a bunch of conniving godmothers stop me from achieving my dream.’

  The Devil’s Advocate was silent for a moment before speaking. ‘Good for you,’ he said finally. He dropped his hands and leaned forward. ‘So why were you there? What brought you to St Clements Park?’

  I pushed back my hair. ‘I thought that if I could solve the kidnappings, I’d no longer be in danger.’ I told him about Duncan and his drug-dealing boogeyman. ‘It was always a long shot but it was worth checking out. Even if everyone else thinks the kidnappings are an inside job.’

  He absorbed this. ‘You’re sure that this … boogeyman has nothing to do with it?’

  I shrugged. ‘Pretty damn sure. He’s scum but he doesn’t know anything about faeries.’ I twiddled with my cuffs. ‘You know, Mr Devil’s Advocate, that no-one does. The only people who know faery godmothers exist are faeries themselves. Whether it’s someone from this actual office or not, it still has to be one of our own who’s behind all this.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said heavily. ‘I realise that.’

  ‘Do you have any ideas as to motive?’

  He shook his head. ‘No. I can’t imagine why a faery would want to do this to another faery. It beggars belief. It’s clearly some sort of vendetta against the godmothers, however. No other department has been involved.’

  ‘Apart from yours,’ I pointed out. If you could call the one man band of the Devil’s Advocate’s office a ‘department’.

  He laughed slightly. ‘Yes. Apart from mine.’ He hesitated and looked at me. ‘It’s Jasper, by the way.’

  I stared at him. ‘Pardon?’

  ‘My name is Jasper. After being stuck in a lift together for this long, the least you deserve is my real name.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘And if you’re serious about finding the bastard behind all of this, why don’t we join forces? I’m sure you’ve got work to do this afternoon. Once I’ve checked out Lydia’s records, I’m going to find out more about St Clements Park and then return there. Why don’t you join me? Around five o’clock? I’ve been too close to all this shit for too long. A fresh perspective might help.’

  I swallowed. Out of all the things I’d been expecting him to say, this hadn’t been one of them. I could hardly say no, however. ‘That depends on whether we both ever get out of this lift,’ I reminded him.

  His mouth crooked up. ‘True.’ He reached
one hand out towards me. ‘You have a few crumbs stuck to your chin,’ he said. ‘Stay still.’ He gently brushed them away.

  ‘You could have said something before now,’ I accused.

  He grinned. ‘Where would be the fun in that?’ He glanced down, his smooth brow furrowing. ‘Why is your arm bleeding?’

  I started. ‘What?’ I followed his gaze, then realised he was staring at the spot where I’d unfortunately gotten myself tattooed with a very ugly cat.

  ‘It’s nothing,’ I said.

  ‘It doesn’t look like nothing. Did that drug dealer attack you?’ His eyes glinted with a hard anger that reminded me of who he actually was.

  ‘No. Don’t worry about it.’

  Jasper glared some more. ‘Show me.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Saffron, if you’re hiding some sort of wound in order to make yourself look tough in front of me, then your intentions are very misguided.’

  ‘It’s not a wound.’ I sighed then rolled up my sleeve. ‘It’s a tattoo.’

  He did a double take. ‘A tattoo?’ He peered at my arm. ‘Of what? Is that some sort of dog?’ He squinted. ‘A raccoon perhaps?’

  ‘It’s a cat,’ I said stiffly. The last thing I wanted to do to tell him that it hadn’t been an entirely deliberate choice. ‘A stylized cat.’

  ‘Are you sure? Because…’

  I yanked my sleeve down. ‘What I do with my own body is up to me.’

  ‘Of course it is. I’m just … surprised. That’s all.’ He fidgeted in a most uncharacteristic fashion. ‘You know, Saffron,’ he began, ‘I …’

  ‘We’ve got it!’ Mrs Jardine’s tinny voice broke through the intercom. ‘Any second now! I’m so sorry about all of this. It’s never happened before.’

  The Devil’s Advocate – or rather Jasper – pulled back and immediately stood up. ‘You should see to it that it doesn’t happen again,’ he said gruffly for Mrs Jardine’s benefit.

  There was a jolt and the lift began to move. I hastily got to my own feet and brushed myself down before the lift doors opened and the main office floor was revealed, along with the large group of wide-eyed faery godmothers who had clearly been panicking that the Devil’s Advocate was stuck in the lift.

  ‘Well, that was fun!’ I declared loudly. I turned to Jasper and gave his cheek a kiss. ‘We should spend more time in the lift together,’ I told him, adding in a saucy wink for the benefit of everyone else.

  His arm went briefly round my waist and his mouth found my ear. ‘It wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen,’ he murmured, before releasing me and striding off in the direction of the Director’s office.

  I swallowed hard. No. Surprisingly, it wouldn’t be the worst thing at all.

  Chapter Sixteen

  It turned out that all I had to do in order to gain myself some office ‘friends’ was to get stuck in a lift with the Devil’s Advocate for half an hour. By the time I got back to my desk, I’d garnered myself all sorts of hangers-on.

  ‘I always said,’ sighed Figgy, blinking her enormous eyelashes in my direction, ‘that if I was going to get myself stuck in a lift with anyone, it would be the Devil’s Advocate.’

  ‘You didn’t snog him, did you?’ Rupert asked me, with a dark edge. Clearly, sex was the only thing on his mind. Ever.

  Alicia snorted in derision. ‘He wouldn’t kiss her.’ She tossed her head and stomped off to her desk, muttering to herself about the important work she had to complete.

  Billy wasted no time in getting himself involved. ‘There is to be no crowding around cubicles!’ he said in a high pitched complaint. ‘It’s a fire hazard!’ He gave me a long look, apparently as curious to know what had happened as everyone else was.

  Delilah ignored everyone and leaned across to me. ‘You’ll tell me all about it once everyone’s gone,’ she said, her tone suggesting a command rather than a mere request.

  Not everyone was impressed. Adeline appeared, again as if out of nowhere. She put her hands on her hips and glowered at the small crowd. Almost immediately, they all melted away.

  ‘I trust there are no ill side effects from your little misadventure, Saffron?’ she inquired.

  ‘No.’ I shook my head. ‘I’m fine.’ I managed a fake smile. ‘Thank you so much for asking though.’

  She looked at me, seemingly convinced that I had ulterior motives and had engineered the lift’s failure just so I could have some time alone with the Devil’s Advocate. ‘How are your clients coming along? How many have you completed?’

  She seemed to have forgotten that this was still only my second day and that I’d had no training whatsoever.

  ‘Er, none.’

  Adeline stared at me, her foot beginning to tap the floor. ‘How many have you visited?’

  ‘One.’

  She folded her arms. ‘Luke Wells.’ She arched her eyebrows. ‘And you’ve not yet granted him another proper wish?’

  ‘I haven’t finished investigating him yet.’

  Her expression grew more stony. ‘I gave you eight clients to work through by the end of the week.’

  I stood my ground. I’d had enough of being treated like dirt. ‘I will do my best to get through them all,’ I answered evenly. ‘But I want to do my best by my clients as well. That takes time.’

  She pointed at the Metafora door. ‘Then get out there and do so! Go visit more of them!’ She spun around and marched away.

  I couldn’t help thinking that she wanted me out on the streets and trying to do my job so that there was more chance I’d be kidnapped in the process. All the same, I snapped my heels together and saluted her in return. No matter what else had happened today, I meant what I said. I was still a faery godmother no matter what. And I would still prove that I could be fabulous at it. I reached for the nearest file on my desk, giving a Delilah a helpless shrug to indicate that I couldn’t stay and gossip now. Then I headed back for the Metafora room. Perhaps my other clients would be less complicated than Luke Wells and I’d be able to tick through their names with ease.

  I smirked to myself. As if. Nothing about this job was every going to be easy.

  ***

  For no other reason than it would make Billy smile, I wore my pink cloak. In this part of London, no-one blinked an eye. I knocked on the door and waited for Rachel Goldberg, client number two, to answer.

  It took longer than I thought for her to come to the door. When she did, she looked considerably wearier and more harassed than both her picture and her file had suggested. From somewhere further in the house a baby cried. Hmm. That was something else the file had failed to mention.

  ‘Mrs Goldberg,’ I began. ‘I’m …’

  She motioned inside. ‘Come in.’ Her voice wavered and I had the sudden feeling she was about to start sobbing. ‘I was expecting you half an hour ago.’

  She was?

  ‘I know you health visitors are busy,’ she said, ‘and you have lots of people to see. Thank you so much for coming at such short notice. I’m at the end of my tether.’

  Ah. I nodded to myself and put on an apologetic smile. ‘I’m so sorry I couldn’t be here earlier.’ I walked into her house as she closed the door.

  ‘Would you like a cup of tea? I don’t have any milk.’ She sighed. ‘Actually, I’m not sure I have any tea.’

  I waved a hand at her. ‘I’m fine.’

  She bobbed her head distractedly and turned away. I followed her into the next room, where she picked the still crying baby up out of his crib and held him out to me. ‘Here,’ she said. ‘You take him.’

  I didn’t feel I had much choice in the matter. I had next to no experience with children, let alone ones of this sort of age. I awkwardly took him from her arms and did my best to cradle him. His face was red and screwed up and, rather than calm down now that he was getting some attention, he simply squalled even louder.

  ‘He doesn’t need changing,’ Rachel Goldberg said. ‘He’s just been fed. I’ve read him a story. I’ve pic
ked him up. I’ve put him down. I’ve taken him for a walk. I’ve sung to him.’ She raised her hands to her head and, for an alarming moment, I thought she was going to start hitting herself. ‘I don’t know what to do. Nothing works.’ She looked at me with large, pleading eyes. ‘You have to help me.’

  ‘That’s what I’m here for.’ I began to rock the baby. He cried harder. ‘What’s he called?’

  ‘Mikey.’ She sank down into the nearest chair. ‘Oh God. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m terrible at this. Do you know, this time last year, I was in Peru. I hiked along the Inca Trail. I traversed the Amazon. Now I can’t traverse my own damn living room without wanting to give up.’ Her head dropped. ‘I don’t want to do this any longer. I don’t want to be a mother. I made a mistake.’

  It wasn’t much of a stretch to realise that this wasn’t actually her wish. I could do it. I was certain I could wave my wand and disappear away baby Mikey. This wasn’t what Rachel needed though. I supposed I could wave my wand and make him stop crying. Give Rachel a decent night’s sleep from here on out. It would make her happy, no doubt about it. But I could do better than that.

  ‘I’m a horrible person,’ she whispered. ‘I’m a horrible, horrible person.’

  I barely heard her over Mikey’s cries. ‘You’re not a horrible person, Rachel. You’re a normal, tired person.’

  She sprang up to her feet. ‘Look at him! Listen to him! My child is screaming his head off! How unhappy must he be if he has to cry that loudly that often? And I. Don’t. Care.’

  ‘But,’ I said equably, ‘you do care. Otherwise you wouldn’t have called me. You wouldn’t be so upset now.’ I smiled at her. ‘You want Mikey to be happy, don’t you? Because when he’s happy, you’ll be happy.’

  She wiped her nose with the back of her sleeve. ‘Yes.’ She nodded. ‘That’s what I want. That’s all I want.’

  Whether I was going to be the best faery godmother in the world or not, I couldn’t make Mikey happy for the rest of his life. Happiness didn’t exist without unhappiness. If you didn’t know what it meant to be sad, then you’d never know what it meant to be happy. Yin and yang. What I could do, however, would be to make Mikey mostly happy. And able to deal with life’s inevitable hardships with a positive outlook. Such a wish would fulfill both Rachel and Mikey’s needs right now – and also for years to come. A child was for life, after all.