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

by Helen Harper

  We all thought about that for a second. Up until now, I’d allowed myself to believe that the others were still alive, as Lydia had been at least up until the point her ear was sliced off. Jasper was right, however. It was perfectly plausible that the other faery godmothers were dead. It was even logical.

  I drew back my shoulders. ‘Whether they are still breathing or not, Harry makes a very good point. It doesn’t make sense for the kidnapper to get in touch now. Unless…’ my voice trailed off. I bit my lip.

  ‘Unless,’ Jasper finished for me, ‘he’s sending us a message because he’s escalating matters.’

  ‘It doesn’t bode well,’ Harry said.

  No. It really didn’t. I sighed heavily. ‘I’ll go back to the park tomorrow,’ I said. ‘We know that Lydia hung around for three days running before she was taken. Maybe I need to loiter there for longer before I’m approached.’

  ‘You mean,’ Jasper said, ‘put yourself out there as bait. I thought that was the very thing which enraged you.’

  ‘I’m choosing to do it this time,’ I said. ‘That’s entirely different from being forced unknowingly into the same position.’

  He inclined his head in brief acknowledgment. Harry looked highly entertained.

  ‘I’ll ask around the office too,’ I declared, keen to change the subject. ‘Maybe one of the missing godmothers mentioned something to someone else that can give us a clue as to why they went to St Clements Park in the first place.’

  ‘Good plan,’ Jasper agreed. I didn’t argue. It wasn’t a good plan but it was the best we had for now. ‘Now that we know godmothers aren’t being attacked when they’re out on jobs, I’ll get the Director to release you from your other clients. We should put our full attention towards this investigation.’

  I started. ‘You want us to work together full time?’

  He turned his green eyes to mine. ‘It makes sense.’ His tone dropped a notch. ‘Until you got yourself involved, we’ve been spinning around in circles. Now we’re actually getting somewhere.’

  Most of that was purely by coincidence. I decided not bother pointing that out, however. ‘The thing is,’ I began.

  ‘What?’

  I raised my shoulders awkwardly. ‘I don’t want to abandon my faery godmother duties entirely. I still want to be a faery godmother.’

  Harry smiled. ‘The best damn faery godmother in the world.’

  ‘Amen.’ I smiled back. ‘If I abandon that work and we solve the case then it’s entirely possible that I’ll then be turfed out on my ear for not doing my real job properly.’

  Jasper’s expression darkened. ‘That wouldn’t happen. I wouldn’t let it.’

  Where there was a will, there was a way. I knew how most of my colleagues felt about me. Not to mention the way the overly nice way Director spoke to me which suggested she actually despised me underneath her smiling mask. Adeline’s snarky attitude towards me was far more trustworthy than the Director’s. It was honest. ‘All the same,’ I said, ‘I think I can do both. It’s still possible that someone from within the office is involved. If I alter what I’m doing too obviously then it might alert them to the fact that we’re getting closer. Not to mention that I’ve still got Lydia’s old client, Luke, to worry about.’

  ‘Then,’ Jasper said, ‘continue working with him alone. You’ll have a hand in your godmother work should anyone question it but you’ll have more time to focus on the investigation.’

  I could cope with that. ‘You’ll clear it with the Director?’

  ‘I will.’

  Harry beamed at me. ‘Look at you, Saffron! From dope faery to faery godmother to bona fide faery investigator with the Devil’s Advocate in her back pocket.’

  Jasper’s brow furrowed. I raised my glass. ‘Mad skills, Harry. Mad skills.’

  Chapter Nineteen

  I arrived at the office ridiculously early the next morning. I was buzzing with anticipation at my plans for the day. By five o’clock, I told myself, I’d have rescued all the missing faery godmothers – all of whom would still be alive and well, minus one sole ear – and I’d be feted as the most wonderful faery the world had ever seen. I allowed myself a moment of picturing the other godmothers raising me up onto their shoulders and parading me around the office, while loudly singing ‘For She’s A Jolly Good Faery’. A girl could dream. Then I walked into the office lobby and realised that, despite my early start, Mrs Jardine was still here before me and I didn’t feel quite so buoyant.

  ‘Good morning, Saffron,’ she said primly as I walked up to the desk.

  ‘Good morning, Mrs Jardine,’ I answered. I crossed my fingers, part of me hoping that she would now afford me the same latitude which Alicia enjoyed and ask me to call her Miranda. Alas, no such nicety was forthcoming. ‘How are you this fine morning?’

  She sniffed. ‘I’m alright, I suppose.’ She pursed her lips. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Good.’

  She glanced behind me as if expecting to see someone behind me. ‘And the Devil’s Advocate? How is he?’

  I repressed a grin. ‘I have no idea. I didn’t spend the night with him, if that’s what you’re wondering.’

  She stared at me. ‘I wasn’t wondering that at all. I couldn’t give a single fig for your sex life. What I do care about, however, is this office. Is he likely to be joining us today?’

  I looked down. Despite her professional demeanour, her fingers were so tightly curled around her fountain pen that her knuckles were white with the tension. ‘I don’t think so,’ I said softly. I debated whether to tell her that I was no longer being used as unwitting bait and was now entirely … witting, if that was a word. It seemed wise to keep the plan to myself for now, however. After all, we still didn’t know everything that was going on or who was involved.

  I pressed my thumb down onto the sign in sheet before heading up to the office. When I stepped out of the lift, which had managed to make its way all the way up without any sort of incident or mishap whatsoever, I realised that Mrs Jardine wasn’t the only one who’d come in early. At least half of the office was already here. I gaped. The official start time was 9am. It wasn’t even seven yet and the place was already remarkably full. Perhaps I’d not given the other faery godmothers enough credit for how hard they all worked.

  Pleased that I’d at least remembered to bring my own mug in this morning, I headed first to the little kitchen to make myself a coffee. I’d barely managed to flick the kettle on when Rupert appeared, leaning against the doorway with his hair falling across his forehead and at least one curl hanging over his eyes so that he was looking at me with some sort of faked squint which I supposed was meant to come across as both artless and sexy.

  ‘Hello Rupert,’ I said. I pointed at his hair. ‘Isn’t that annoying? I know the name of a good barber if you need one.’

  He blinked at me and pushed the curl back. ‘Thank you but no,’ he muttered. He watched as I busied myself with measuring out a teaspoon of coffee into my mug. He obviously wanted to say something but was waiting for me to ask him what it was first. He’d be waiting for a while.

  ‘How are things going?’ he said eventually. ‘It’s still only your first week but I hope you’re settling in.’

  ‘I’m getting there,’ I answered cheerfully. ‘It’s hard with everything that’s been going on but I feel like I’m starting to get a handle on everything.’

  ‘I’m really pleased to hear that, Saffron.’ He reached out and put a hand on my arm, squeezing gently. Then his head tilted and he gazed at the thin material of my shirt. ‘Is that a tattoo?’

  ‘Yes.’ I pulled up my sleeve to show him, hoping that the horror of the image would imply enough of my supposed bad taste that he’d leave me in peace.

  ‘A dog! It’s so cute,’ he cooed. ‘It suits you. Does it hurt?’

  Damn it. ‘A bit,’ I said. I covered up again. ‘And it’s a cat. Not a dog.’

  He smirked. ‘I love a bit of pussy myself.’

&
nbsp; I counted to ten in my head.

  ‘If there’s anything I can do to help, do let me know,’ Rupert continued, blithely unaware of my growing irritation. ‘Maybe we can go out for lunch together. The canteen is good but there’s a lovely little café around the corner. We could go out just the two of us and get to know each other better.’

  I hastily poured out some hot water from the urn into my mug and smiled at him. ‘That’s so kind of you, Rupert. I’m going to be busy all day today though.’

  ‘You have to eat. I’m sure you can find some time.’

  I pondered this. ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I’m sure I could. You know what though?’

  He half smiled at me. ‘What?’

  I shrugged. ‘I don’t want to.’ I grabbed my mug and walked off. I didn’t want to be rude to the guy but I would be if that was what it took to shake him off.

  I was pleased to see that Delilah wasn’t at her desk. At least she started work at a normal time unlike all these other faeries. I plonked down my mug and started up my computer to check Luke’s file and update it with the information I had on him so far. I’d try some more research and see if I could uncover any useful information before I visited him again. If I could sort him out this morning then I’d be free to concentrate on the missing godmother investigation for the rest of the day. Before the screen had flickered into action, however, there were raised voices behind me.

  ‘I’ve had it enough of it! Can’t you keep quiet?’

  ‘I’m humming, Sarah. It’s only humming. I’m allowed to hum.’

  ‘You’re doing it deliberately to annoy me. I know you are.’

  ‘The fact of my humming has nothing to do with you.’

  I glanced round and spotted two faery godmothers squaring off against each other. Honestly, it looked to me as if they were about to descend into fisticuffs at any moment. I gulped down my coffee and grabbed my bag. It would be safer to get out of the office as quickly as possible.

  ***

  The Metafora room transported me directly outside Luke’s flat, a small student type affair that he shared with five others. Unfortunately, while I might be up and about and raring to go, I’d temporarily forgotten that he was still a university student. He’d be fast asleep for the next few hours at least. It was the way students rolled. I gazed at the closed door for a moment. Just because he was sleeping didn’t mean I couldn’t still be working on his case.

  I tried the door but, sensibly, it was locked. Flicking my fingers towards it, I used a swirl of faery magic to jiggle the mechanism. A moment later I was in, carefully closing the door behind me so as not to wake up any of the flat’s occupants.

  The flat seemed surprisingly well kept. I knew from Luke’s file that the parents of one of his flatmates owned it and rented rooms out to the others at reasonable rates. Perhaps that was the reason why it was so neat and tidy. I peered at the handwritten rota which had been pinned up onto a wall in the kitchen. The chores had been divided up equally between all of them. I tapped thoughtfully at Wednesdays. It was Luke’s job to take the rubbish out on that day. It should have been done yesterday. I strolled over to the bin and flipped the lid open. It was brimming full with squashed packages and empty takeaway cartons. Hmm. Luke’s flatmates might be conscientious when it came to housekeeping but it appeared that Luke himself was slipping.

  I nosed around the rest of the flat, opening cupboards here and there and rifling through various bits of paper which had been left lying around. As pleasing as it might have been that these students looked after their home, temporary though it may be, it didn’t make it easy for me to find any clues as to what Luke really wanted. I gave up on what I was doing and headed for his bedroom instead. I opened the door and peeked in. There was a strong smell of feet and, troublingly, the same stale alcohol reek which I’d noted in the study carrel the first time I’d met him. Luke himself was curled up in a foetal like position, his thumb in his mouth. I considered waking him up but from what I’d seen of him yesterday and the gaunt look to his face which was visible even through his repose, I decided to leave him be. I could wait for an hour or two at least to see if he would wake up.

  Ambling back to the living room, I sat myself down on a comfy chair. There was no doubt in my mind that Luke’s wish would have something to do with his demands at the tattoo shop. He was tracking something – or rather someone – down. The question was who. His file hadn’t indicated anything helpful when I’d looked through it.

  I crossed my legs as I tried to sift through the information in my mind. Just then, however, the living room door opened and a young woman wearing a fluffy purple dressing gown appeared. I stiffened but she merely offered a vague sleepy smile in my direction and curled up in the chair opposite.

  ‘Hey,’ she said.

  I licked my lips. ‘Hey.’ I was taken aback by her lack of reaction at a stranger in her flat. She might not remember this encounter given that I was officially on the clock but I’d have expected more wariness from her.

  ‘I’m Lucy,’ she said. ‘I take it you’re one of Luke’s friends.’ There was a faint emphasis on her last word. Ah. Now I understood.

  ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘I woke up before him so I thought I’d come through here and wait.’ That was sort of true.

  She tutted to herself and threw me a look filled with little but sympathy. ‘He does this a lot, you know,’ she said gently. ‘He has a lot of … friends.’

  I searched for a way to keep her talking. ‘He and I have a connection,’ I said finally. ‘But I’m under no illusions. I’m here to help him.’

  ‘I don’t know that anyone can help him at the moment. You’re welcome to wait until he wakes up though.’ She sighed and reached for the remote control, turning on the television and effectively barricading any further attempts at conversation.

  I watched her for a moment as she flicked though various channels and programmes, before settling on some sort of horrific chat show which seemed to involve a lot of yelling and cushion throwing and very little else. Then I arced my wrist and cut the power. The television flicked off and Lucy cursed. She got up and began fiddling with the plug. I let her try for a moment or two and then tried again.

  ‘Luke told me about his search,’ I said, testing the water.

  She paused briefly in her attempts to re-start the television and glanced round at me. ‘He did? He won’t say very much about it to any of us.’

  ‘He’s getting close.’

  Lucy’s mouth tightened. ‘I’m not sure that’s necessarily a good thing.’

  ‘Why not?’

  She tugged at her ponytail. ‘Sometimes you have to be careful what you wish for.’

  And then some. I nodded wisely. ‘True.’ I ploughed on. ‘But I don’t think Luke’s wish is all that unreasonable.’

  She frowned. ‘He hasn’t seen his real dad since he was five years old. I don’t think any parent who walks out on their child at that age is someone who deserves attention. Even if Luke finds him, I think he’ll end up regretting it. His stepdad has been more of a father to a him than his real dad ever was.’

  Bingo. I resisted springing up to my feet and doing a little jig at finally discovering what Luke wanted. The file I had on Luke suggested that both his parents were still at home – but if Luke’s mum had re-married and they’d all taken on his stepdad’s name then everything made sense. All Luke wanted was to find his real father. And with one snap of my fingers I could achieve that for him.

  ‘It’s been lovely meeting you, Lucy,’ I said. ‘I think I’ll head home and get a shower. I’ll catch up with Luke later.’ I flicked my fingers and the television sprang into life, forestalling her from questioning my sudden decision to leave.

  ‘Huh.’ She frowned at the screen. ‘That’s weird.’

  I slipped out of the door. She’d already have forgotten who I was. I grinned to myself. Now all I had to do was to find out whether Luke’s father was someone worth knowing and I’d have achieved success. In
this at least.

  Chapter Twenty

  Armed with my new information on Luke, I was able to narrow down my research once I was back at my computer. Fortunately, the bickering from earlier had come to a halt and the office itself was reasonably quiet. It made it easier to focus on my search and, when I finally found the information that confirmed Luke had been adopted by his stepfather when he was seven, I leaned back in my chair and breathed out. If I’d had more time to research him in the first place, I could have discovered this on my own. I’d felt pressure from Adeline to perform, however, and I’d rushed things. Next time, I resolved, I would do far better.

  ‘You’re still wearing those shoes,’ Billy said, appearing silently behind me and causing me to jump half out of my skin.

  I glanced down at my feet. Oh yes. Shiny, patent leather. ‘You can’t seriously have a problem with these,’ I said. ‘Where in the rule book does it say I can’t wear patent leather?’

  ‘Section four, sub section f, line 23,’ he answered without missing a beat.

  ‘You’re not lying, are you?’ I asked. ‘You actually have that memorized.’

  ‘What can I say?’ he shrugged. ‘I have a lot of time on my hands.’

  ‘So what’s the issue with patent leather?’

  He grinned. ‘Who the hell knows? It was probably some Director in years gone past who had a weird aversion to it. Honestly, most of the rules in there are completely nuts.’ He arched an eyebrow towards me. ‘Haven’t you read through them all yet? I know that HR gave you a copy.’

  ‘I haven’t had time.’

  He bent down towards me. ‘That’s the beauty of it,’ he said. ‘No-one ever has time. Frankly, I could make any old shit up and people would believe it’s a rule. Not that I need to,’ he added. ‘There’s so much daft crap in there that I doubt even my imagination could match the reality.’