Fairy Doors

The Fae council officially meets twice a year. In June and in September. We meet at a place known locally as the daisy hollow and all senior members are present, even Aelfric, King of the Fae. To the non believers in the Fae council it is an important meeting but to those in the know it’s nothing more than a picnic. We discuss the forth coming celebrations that occur in the village every year at Litha and Mabon when a big bonfire on the village green always takes centre stage.  
    “So where’s the vicar?” Granny asks, seating herself down on an old tree stump that she had bagsied years ago. Granny is always the last to turn up.
    “We have a new vicar now, Granny,” I say, forcing a smile. “Cyril passed away last christmas. Remember?”
    “Oh,” says Granny. “That was inconsiderate of him.”
    I glare at Granny. I know very well she has not forgotten. She never forgets anything.
    “He was very old,” says Aelfric. This evening, he is as tall as, if not taller than, any human.
    Granny ignores Aelfric and glares back at me.
    An impossibly thin man puts his hand in the air. “I’m here,” he says, almost apologetically. He is wearing a dog collar (not the canine sort) and dressed exactly as you would expect a vicar to be dressed. “Stephen Miller,” he says reaching his hand towards Granny expecting to shake hands.
    Granny snatches her hand away and clasps it to her ample chest. “Don’t touch me,” she says.
    The Reverend Stephen Miller looks shocked. “I was only offering my hand in friendship,” he says.
    Granny scowls at him. “I chooses my own friends, I do. You mustn’t go presuming. And I would strongly suggest that you keep your hands to yourself.”
    Stephen goes red, “But I …”
    “Stephen,” I stop him before he can start. I grab his arm and pull him back. “Just leave it,” I tell him. “You can’t reason with Granny, you will just end up offending her. I won’t go into any details, but everyone who has ever upset Granny has ended up …”
    “In the pond,” says Summer, speaking over me. “Those that upset Granny always end up in the pond. Helen’s right. Best keep quiet.” Giggling, she adds, “We wouldn’t want you getting wet.”
    “Oh,” says Stephen. “I wouldn't worry about that. There’s no way she could get me into a pond!”
    “Shall we see?” Granny says.
    “No! No,we won’t,” I say, and clap my hands together frantically. “Lets start the meeting shall we?” I have had this meeting planned in my head for months. Since the arrival of the Reverend Stephen Miller in fact. It was going to be a calm, pleasant meeting where I would introduce our new vicar. There would then be pleasantries and sandwiches with lots of cake and lemonade. No more business would be declared immediately after the introduction and soon after that we would all trundle off home. That was what was supposed to happen. Things are not going to plan and I know I have to round things up quickly. “Now, as you all know, our Litha celebration has been planned well in advance this year. All of the houses surrounding the green have flower wreaths on the doors and Summer is receiving more requests, which is amazing”. (Summer nods at this point). I clear my throat. “Now, I was going to introduce Stephen, here, to you all this evening but … “
    “And what a fine evening it is too,” says Aelfric, stopping my flow.
    I smile a big smile. “Indeed it is Aelfric,” I say.
    “All things considered,” he adds.
    I don't like this comment but decide to ignore it. Aelfric, being King of the Fae, likes to be respected and so I simply bow my head to him.
    “As I was just saying, I was going to introduce our new vicar to you all but as we all now know the Reverend Stephen Miller, I declare the introduction complete and this meeting …”
    “Oh, oh, oh…” Aelfric is agitated. “Before you go ending the meeting, Helen, I have something important to say.”
    Oh dear. Here it comes. The ‘all things considered’ comment.
    “Is it about the unsettlings?” Granny asks him.
    “You feel it, Granny? Is that what it’s called? Unsettlings? I call it something else,” says Aelfric, stepping, on what I call dangerous territory.
    Granny nods and stuffs a chocolate eclair into her mouth.
    Stephen Miller asks what is meant by unsettlings.
    Bob Griss, the Police Commissioner, throws me a cautious look and nods his head towards Stephen.
    Barbara, quiet until now, nudges me hard in the ribs.
    “Lets talk about this tomorrow, Aelfric,” I say. “Now’s not really the time,is it?” I’m silently pleading here and Aelfric knows it. “This meeting is just about the introduction, remember?”
    “Oh.” The penny drops. “Yes of course,” he says.
    But, Stephen is all about transparency. Apparently. He points out the fact that as we only meet twice a year we really need to sort things out as and when they arise. He is a keen new member. Too keen. He’s not supposed to be this keen.
    All eyes are on Stephen as he speaks. No one dares tell him that all of the important stuff is dealt with in unofficial meetings to which he will certainly never be privy too. Not if we can help it. Church and faeries and witches don't mix. Like all the vicars before him, the Reverend Cyril Foster, our old vicar, had never, ever learnt that his parish was home to real faeries. He had never questioned Aelfric’s pointed ears and pale, shiny skin, or the fact that his height varied during the meetings. No one ever lied about Aelfric being King of the Fae, we just never said that he was. But then we never told him that Granny was a witch, either, yet he definitely had his suspicions about her.
    “I urge you to speak out. I think we are all friends here,” Stephen looks at us all.
    “I wouldn’t say that,” says Granny.
    Stephen ignores her comment. “And that is what friends are for. We help and support each other.”
    It’s beginning to sound a little like a sermon.
    “Oh,” says Aelfric, looking at me while pointing at Stephen, “I like him!”
    “What is your name?” Stephen asks.
    “Aelfric,” says Aelfric.
    “Yes. Yes I got that. But what is your real name?”
    Aelfric looks hurt. “It is my real name, sir. I am Aelfric, King of the Fae.”
    “Oh God,” groans Bob Griss and he buries his head in his hands.
    There’s a big sigh from Barbara.
    I can feel my heart banging in my chest.
    Stephen suddenly roars with laughter. “Oh this is brilliant,” he chuckles. “ I get it now. Oh how wonderful. Yes, yes, I see how this works. Thornton Under Elm, the well known Fairy Village. Ha, Ha. Roll play at it’s finest.”
    “Yes!” I laugh from sheer relief. “Ha, ha you’ve found us out, Stephen. Roll play.” I look across at Granny who is too busy poking her fingers in the sandwich fillings to notice.
    “Roll play?” Aelfric has never heard this term before. “What is roll play?”
    “Just go with it, Al,” says Summer.
    “If I knew we was playing that game I would’ve worn my hat,” says Granny, licking her fingers.
    I thank whatever gods there may be that she didn’t.
    “Well, as we seem to have that sorted out,” says Aelfric, “perhaps you can sort out my problem, Mr Griss.”
    “Me?” Bob has never been asked anything from Aelfric before. His usual job for the council is to hush things up. It’s a job he hates which is why he hardly ever answers my phone calls. To say he is a reluctant council member is a huge understatement.
    “You and your people, Mr Griss.”
    “By my people you mean the police force I take it?”
    “Indeed, sir. I need an arresting done.”
    “An arresting?” Bob has become extremely uneasy.
    “He means,” says Summer. “That he wants someone arrested.”
    “I know what he means, thank you very much,” Bob says to Summer.
    “Granny calls it an unsettling but I call it criminal, and something has to be done about it,” Aelfric's voice has gone up an octave.
    “And who is it you want arrested?” an unsettled Bob asks as he slowly lifts a cup of lemonade to his mouth.
    “The new owner of Dunstan House.” Aelfric is very clear on the matter and his voice is back to normal.
    The lemonade falls from Bobs hand. “You want me to arrest Ethan Day?” He asks,while frantically rubbing his trousers with a paper napkin and cussing under his breath.
    My ears prick right up at this news.“Wait! What? Ethan Day? The Ethan Day? The singer? Love is a Stranger? More Than Roses? That Ethan Day?” I am astounded I did not know this,” I say. “Why did I not know this? We have a celebrity living in Thornton!”
    “First I’ve heard of it too,” says Barbara. (I am surprised to learn this, Barbara usually knows what is going on in the village.).
    Summer is very excited. She knew and tells us she was there when he moved in.(I’m not at all,  surprised to learn this)
    Granny is perplexed. Anything that does not involve herself is simply not worth knowing, which is unfortunate because she likes to know about everything and usually before anyone else does. She is, at this time, like a falling cat scrabbling to reach something to save itself. And she mutters something I can't quite catch.
     “Oh Granny, you do know who he is!” Summer’s voice is loud and mocking. “You love his song!” She starts singing the chorus of Ethan’s song, Goddess and immediately Granny is calmed. She is a good singer and it sounds lovely until Granny joins in.
    “I do want you to arrest him, yes.” says Aelfric, ignoring the minor stir that’s just been created.
    “Why? The police cannot go around arresting people,” says Bob. “Accusations are one thing, having proof of those accusations is quite another. What’s he done?” He looks across at Summer and Granny. “And can we turn the volume down, please?” It’s his way of telling them to shut up.
    “He has installed those doors to nowhere in the trees of the Frithgeard. Fairy doors. The Fae who live there cannot enter or leave their homes. They are prisoners. And on the eve of Litha too!” Aelfric then looks straight at me, “I hope he didn’t buy them from your shop, Helen.”
    “I am offended you could even think that Aelfric!” I glare at him and before he can answer me we are all astounded to hear Stephen say something very stupid.
    “I can’t see the problem, to be honest,” says Stephen. “Surely the little fairies can wave their magic wands and escape that way. Or sprinkle a little fairy dust.” He laughs and helps himself to a small sandwich. He has no idea of the enormity of what he has just said.
    Faeries can, and they do, use magic but it takes a lot out of them. Only kings or queens of the Fae have any real magic to speak of and theirs is the most powerful magic of all. Faerie magic is a very ancient, dark sort of magic. They use their emotions. They point their fingers. They stare. They bite and they spit. But they never, ever use a wand. Witches use wands. As for ‘fairy dust’ it doesn't exist, not that kind, anyway. The only ‘fairy dust’ in the world of the Fae is when a faerie dies and turns to it. Faerie dust is sacred and is found only in a place they call a Frithgeard. The Frithgeard is Sanctuary and is the most spiritual place that exists, has ever existed. Anywhere. To anyone. The Fae of the Frithgeard are the chosen few that hold all the knowledge and secrets of the Fae religion.        
   Nobody laughs with Stephen. His words have silenced us all until Granny emits a very peculiar sound — a sort of high pitched and wavering ‘Oooooooo’.
    Granny is peering very closely at Summer’s mobile phone. “Well,” she says in her usual voice, “I do believe I can be his friend.”
    “I’m sorry, Aelfric, I know how important this issue is, to you, but I really cannot arrest someone for putting fairy doors in his garden,” Bob Griss throws up his hands in a show of despair. (His despair, however, is not real and his gesture fools no one.) “However, I can, and will, arrest anyone who causes trouble for or becomes a nuisance to Mr Day,” he looks at us all sternly.
    “Aelfric, I promise I will go and pay Mr Day a visit in the morning,” I tell him, “ and I will ask him to remove the doors.”
    “And what will you say when he tells you no?” Barbara asks me.
    It’s a valid point and I have no idea.
    I shrug my shoulders.
    “Worry not, my dear Barbara, I will go with Helen,” says Aelfric.
    “I’ll go too,” she says. She is a good friend and always has my back.
    “And I will be there too, Helen! So, don't go worrying yourself,” says Granny, “I will most assuredly be there.”
    This actually does worry me. But I thank her.
    “Count me in too,” says Summer.
    “Thank you, that’s most kind,” I say, hoping I don't sound insincere.
    “Like I say,” says Bob, looking at us all in turn, “I will have to make arrests if this gets out of hand.” He is pointing fingers now. “Ethan Day is a celebrity and if you lot go causing trouble there will be nothing I can do but arrest you for affray and … and god only knows what else.” And then to me, privately, he adds, “I mean it, Helen, go careful. It’s one thing for you and Barbara to pop along and ask the guy politely but you have got the Fae King, himself, with you. Hmm? And the witch too! To say nothing of the witch’s apprentice or whatever it is she calls herself these days. That’s a decent recipe for trouble, if you ask me.”
    I nod. I hear what he says. I know what he means.
    “Well,” says Stephen, “as the newest member of the council I’m not sure what the protocol is for these things but er, but I will register my interest aswell.”
    “What?” Granny is clearly confused. “What d’you mean by register your interest?”
    “I think he means he’s coming along too,” says Summer.
    “Indeed, I am,” says Stephen. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
    “It’s not a jolly outing, Stephen,” says Barbara. “I don’t really think there’s anything you can do to help here.”
    “I think we all know that’s not true! I shall be coming along too,” he says.
    I groan inwardly. “And on that note," I say, as cheerfully as I can, "I declare the meeting well and truly closed. I will see you all in the morning. We will meet at my shop at nine and go on from there together.”
    “Do you think he’ll be in?” Asks Summer.
    I really hope not but I say nothing.
    “Oh,” says Granny, “he’ll be in.”
    Not one of us questions this.
    “Well,” I say to Bob as we are all leaving. “You’ve got a vicar to add to that list of yours now! A faerie King, a witch, her apprentice and a vicar. That sounds like a story in the making!”
    “And one written from a prison cell if you're not careful.”
    His words ring in my ears all the way home. Tomorrow was going to be a very interesting day.
    

To be continued