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THE CHRISTMAS FAIRY
By
Daisy Banks
© copyright December 2007, The Christmas Fairy
Cover art by Alex DeShanks, © copyright December 2007
ISBN: 978-1-60394-122-8
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author's imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.
Chapter One
Gilly wiped her eyes as she hunted through the cupboard. Even the simplest task could reduce her to tears these days. She dumped stuff on the floor behind her, stuff she hadn't even bothered to unpack since the move here three weeks ago. The large brown box she searched for, was of course, right at the bottom of the pile. She hauled the box out and shoved the other stuff back.
"I don't know why I'm bothering," she murmured as she carried the box into the small lounge. The décor in here managed to revolt her anew each time she entered the room. The mixture of reds and orange enough to turn her stomach, but this was a rented flat, and she didn't intend to stay too long.
For a moment, more tears welled, and she simply stood to try and blink them away. This had become a habit in the past six months, and she knew if she blinked hard enough and thought about what a real selfish swine James was, they would go. She was certain some of the people she worked with thought she had a serious eye complaint. There was nothing wrong with her eyes, the problem lay in her heart still.
Six months passed, and her heart was as frozen as it had been the day she found out. Her sense of betrayal had not diminished from that day to this, she did not think it ever
would. Yet still she thought about him all the time. To know he had been seeing someone else for so long before telling her still made her feel the biggest fool on the planet. A shudder passed through her, for a moment she saw his eyes again as he had said their marriage was over. Any sane person would have guessed months before, but no, not her. Age did not always gift wisdom, and for her it had been no guarantee against folly. To be thirty-four and feel such a fool was bitter indeed.
Taking a deep breath, she put the box next to the tree. What had possessed her to buy such a large tree she had no idea. But the pine smelled sweet, and, if she had nothing else this Christmas, she would have that scent to give her memories of what Christmas could be like.
She turned the radio on, but the sentimentality of the first song took her mind back to where she did not want to go. The memory of Christmas shopping that first year with James was too much tonight. All the thoughts of him were too much. Turning the radio off, she poured herself a large glass of wine. This was rapidly becoming her cure all. If she drank enough of it, the memories disappeared into a nice foggy place. Gilly took a large swig, she gritted her teeth to put the decorations on the tree, it would be stupid not to do so after buying the thing.
She opened the box and unwrapped the first decoration, she sighed, it would be this one wouldn't it. The golden little heart that James gave her that first Christmas they were together. The thing lay in her palm, and somehow the first instinct to crush it dissolved as tears slid once more down her face. He had loved her then, of that, she was certain. Eight years was not such a very long time, how could things have changed so much that he didn't love her now? Steeling herself, because if she did this with every one of the baubles she would be here all night, she slid the little heart back into the box. There was no way she could live with that hung on the tree. After some more wine, she unwrapped four or five decorations and hung them up. To do it in bulk and not think back on the memories that any of them brought into the open was easier. Perhaps she should just have binned the lot and bought new.
Her third glassful was empty by the time Gilly got to the last thing in the box. She smiled at it, suddenly glad she hadn't binned the box. This was the fairy, her fairy, all hers from home. She had brought this with her when she and James first moved in together. Carefully, she unwrapped her. The old girl was still as beautiful as ever, even if her silver trimmed, pink gown was a bit tired looking now. The lovely crystal wings, she dusted them off carefully, yes they still shone. The little face was so very realistic with its pouting pink lips. She had always thought this fairy was simply perfect. For a brief moment, everything else slid away, and she was a little girl again, with the real magic of Christmas just within reach.
Gilly attached the fairy to the tree and straightened her up. The old girl always looked as though she had been out on the tiles, it was almost a daily job over the Christmas holidays to keep her straight on the tree. One year she and James hadn't bothered, and the old girl had drooped so much she nearly fell off. She stood back to admire the tree, yes very pretty, seasonal, and now she'd had enough. Enough wine to make her sleepy, enough memories to make the pain bite sharp. Taking a last large swig of wine, she curled up on the sofa and closed her eyes.
****
As Wilomena opened her eyes, a ripple of excitement slid over her flesh for this was the last year of her punishment, and, when the tree was taken down, Willomena would be free to fly. The enchanted sleep would not take her, and she would be free. Her eyes scanned the room. Where on earth was she? This didn't look right at all. The mortal girl who held her for the time of her punishment didn't have much taste, but this was the worst yet. All the colors were foul. What had happened to the furniture? The over-stuffed flowery stuff was gone. There was only a plain sofa, on it her girl was asleep.
Wilomena looked closer, yes the poor creature was getting those nasty lines, looked like the she'd put on a few pounds too. Poor thing, she would be glad to be gone. Watching them as they aged like this was dreadful. She'd been almost fond of the girl that first year, the starry blue eyes looking up at her, the little voice, 'she must be the prettiest fairy ever.' That soft little voice had done much to reassure Wilomeena she wouldn't end up in a bin.
There had been one Christmas that was great fun some years ago, when she had woken in the other house, not the first and certainly not this revolting room. Her girl had a partner, and my goodness for mortals they certainly weren't the shy and retiring sort. She hadn't seen stuff like that since she had become a decoration. The energy they had created had been sweet indeed, but, by the next year, all that loving seemed to be gone. Each following year her girl had seemed a quieter creature, and sometimes she and the male did not even seem to speak.
Wilomeena had always thought of mortals as cold creatures, and those years as she watched her girl become almost a shadow had reinforced the thought. She simply did not know how the mortal females put up with it, no fairy would have stuck around with a male like that. But mortals were different.
Hanging on the top of the tree, Wilomeena mused on how good it would be to be able to go into the garden and rejoin the court. The first thing she would do was get a new dress, then she'd maybe find the Thistlebrite brothers. They were always willing and entertaining company. The thought made her shiver, yes a lovely thought that. Much better than this
depressing place and her tired looking mortal who snored now.
She wondered where the male was, and horror crept over her. There was no sign of him. No socks lying by the sofa, none of his shoes, even the smell of him was missing. Sympathy moved through her. Perhaps he had perished, that might explain the empty wine bottle and the empty glass that her girl held tilted towards the floor. Poor thing.
Wilomeena had never felt quite so impotent as this, after all the girl's care, because she did care in her way. Always that smile, always tenderness when the girl wrapped her up. She had to do something for the poor creature. But what? Her armoury was so small under the circumstances, but while she was conscious she could still grant a mortal a wish. This poor creature that lay dribbling now as she snored deserved one. She would try this Christmas, her last here, to do something for the poor girl.
****
Gilly woke cold and stiff, she stretched and picked up the fallen glass. This falling asleep on the couch was becoming a habit too. But it was better than the lonely bed, the empty expanse of space where James should be. Well, he wouldn't be again, and that was becoming more certain by the day, the letter from the solicitor had told her that.
Divorce proceedings for the New Year, what a lot she had to look forward to. The prospect terrified her. Years of loneliness, losing herself in her thoughts of what she had done wrong and why James had found someone else so much more desirable.
Looking over at the clock, she could just make out the little blue numbers without her glasses. Well, it was Christmas Day already. She would go to bed for a few hours and then go over to her parents. The thought of the forced merriment with her parents, her brother Mark and Paula, his wife, turned her stomach, but for the sake of her niece and nephew, Molly and Tom, she would do her best. She dragged herself up off the couch and went into the bedroom. The bed was cold, and never had she felt lonelier in her life.
****
Wilowmeena watched her go and reeled at the waves of bitter sorrow from her girl. Such dreadful sorrow, she had to do something for the poor creature. Such a sad bunch were mortals, but mostly when she became conscious each year and she got stuck on the tree, her girl had seemed happy enough. There had been occasional little blips, like the year the girl had bad spots and sulked all the way through a Christmas party and, of course, the quiet years recently, but never anything like this.
Wilowmeena dozed for a bit, this was the worst part when you woke and wanted to party and were just stuck on a tree. It was very uncomfortable really, but she had seen out her twenty-five years, and soon it would be over. When she went back home she would make sure she never got caught stealing nectar again.
Mind you, it had been the dress that had done it, not just the theft. She had recognized the look in Titania's eyes immediately. Oberon would have let her off, she knew it, but not Titania, not when Wilomena had a better dress than she did. She sighed at the memory. Of all the fairies that there were, the Queen was the one who could be so very nasty. The sneer from Titania as she was sentenced had been a most unpleasant one, and she wondered once more how on earth Oberon could put up with his bad tempered wife.
Soon it would be morning, and then she'd have a look at her girl again and try to work out what had happened and how she could do something about it. She yawned, life really was rotten stuck on a tree, but of course, that was the punishment bit.
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