Martin Millar - The Good Fairies of New York.html (18 page)

The assistant in the health food shop fumbled with Dinnie's change. Dinnie opened his mouth to complain but

noticing Heather's warning look he smiled instead, and waited patiently.

'Did you recognise him?' the assistant asked her fellow worker as Dinnie left. 'He seemed to remind me of

file:///Users/lisa/Downloads/Martin%20Millar%20-%20The%20Good%20Fairies%20of%20New%20York.html

Page 61 of 99

Martin Millar - The Good Fairies of New York.html

6/5/11 2:11 PM

someone, but I can't think who.'

'Nice-looking guy anyway. Great pony-tail.'

As they walked back down First Avenue Heather announced that perhaps it was no bad thing that Dinnie had

knocked Kerry down the stairs. After all, it now gave him an excellent reason to strike up a conversation.

'You can apologise for being such a clumsy oaf and then subtly work the conversation round to the first two Slayer albums. While you're doing it, be sure she gets a good view of your hip new hairstyle. You'll start to impress her right away.'

Dinnie thought that this was all a little simplistic and began to wonder if the fairy had ever matched up a pair of lovers in her life. Possibly some village idiots in Cruickshank.

As they turned on to 4th Street they saw Kerry and Morag coming out of the deli.

'Now is your chance,' whispered Heather.

They met on the sidewalk.

'Hello, Kerry,' said Dinnie. 'I'm real sorry I bounced you down the stairs. It was an accident.'

'That's all right. I'm sorry I punched you in the face.'

There was a short silence.

'I've just been listening to the first two Slayer albums. Fine stuff.'

Kerry smiled encouragingly. Unfortunately Dinnie's conversation then ground to a halt. He could not think of what to say next. Kerry's smiling put him off completely, because it was a lovely smile.

They faced each other in awkward silence.

'Well, good,' said Kerry finally. 'I like them as well.'

'Right,' said Dinnie. 'Excellent records.'

'Yes,' agreed Kerry.

'I must be off,' said Dinnie, and departed quickly.

'Why did you run away?' protested Heather, back indoors.

'I felt stupid. I didn't know what to say. I was drowning in my own sweat.'

Heather told Dinnie off from force of habit, but she did not really mind that he had not made much of the

conversation. She knew that prospective lovers often found each other's company a little awkward at first. Quite possibly Kerry would prefer a man who was a little shy to one who was too full of himself. The important thing was that he had made a start.

She reassured Dinnie that this had been a reasonable beginning.

'My plan is working fine. I got the distinct feeling she likes you.'

Heather looked forward to fulfilling her part of the bargain and gaining the fiddle.

Across the road Kerry was slightly shaky after her first trip outside since her illness. She drank tea with Morag.

'I'm sorry I couldn't do better with Dinnie,' she said, 'But I was feeling a little weak. Also he seemed difficult to talk to.'

'That's all right, Kerry. I thought you did fine. If I'm going to convince Dinnie that you've fallen in love with him it wouldn't do for you to be too enthusiastic at first. He might be suspicious. He will know from experience that women do not fall in love with him right away. Just keep smiling at him and we'll fool him easily. I am already looking forward to fulfilling my part of the bargain and gaining the fiddle.'

The MacLeod sisters sat in Joshua's shopping trolley as he pursued Magenta along West 23rd and down Sixth

Avenue.

'Hurry,' hissed Ailsa. 'You're catching up.'

Joshua stepped up his pace. He did not really understand why four Scottish fairies had come to his aid in his pursuit of Magenta, but as they were liberal with their whisky and cunning in obtaining food, they were welcome to trail along.

file:///Users/lisa/Downloads/Martin%20Millar%20-%20The%20Good%20Fairies%20of%20New%20York.html

Page 62 of 99

Martin Millar - The Good Fairies of New York.html

6/5/11 2:11 PM

TWENTY-FIVE

Morag was also out hunting for Magenta, but in the large city she could not find her.

She sat, dispirited, watching some squirrels in Madison Square.

'Hello, fairy.'

It was Johnny Thunders.

Morag repressed an urge to giggle. She found Johnny Thunders unusually attractive and regretted that he was four times as tall as her, and a ghost.

'You look sad.'

Morag explained all the latest developments. Johnny sympathised.

'I'm having a hard time myself. I can't see any sign of my guitar. If I even passed the building it was in I'd know, but it's gone. Still, I think I can help you. I remember down in Chinatown there was an instrument maker could fix anything. Hwui-Yin. To look at him you wouldn't think he knew what an electric guitar was, but one time he fixed one of my favourites when it was just about totally destroyed after a Dolls gig at the Mercer Arts Centre.

Morag shook her head. She remembered the name.

'I can't go there without being lynched by Chinese fairies.'

'Nonsense. Hwui-Yin was a good friend of mine. I'll see you're all right. Hop on my shoulder and we'll float on down.'

With the aid of the MacLeods, Joshua was able to cunningly corner Magenta at West 14th.

'Okay, Magenta. Hand it over.'

'Never, Tissaphernes.'

'Stop being crazy and hand it over.'

The MacLeods meanwhile dived into Magenta's shopping bag, hoping that it still contained Heather and Morag,

but emerged looking frustrated.

'Where are they?'

'An Athenian nobleman does not rat on his associates,' replied Magenta, stiffly.

'Oh yeah?' sneered Joshua. 'Xenophon would have. For an Athenian he was very fond of the Spartans.'

'That is entirely beside the point. He was brought up fully in line with the high standard of conduct expected of an Athenian.'

Bored with this, the MacLeod sisters began to drift off.

'Hey,' said Joshua. 'Where are you going?'

Xenophon, a general renowned for his military cunning, saw his chance. While Tissaphernes talked with his allies, she sprinted for a cab, wrenched open the door and disappeared at speed.

'So where are Heather and Morag?' muttered Seonaid as they floated up to the sixth floor of a handy fire escape.

None of them knew. They would have to start their hunt anew.

'What is that, Rhona?'

'A flower,' replied the youngest sister, who was not always so serious as the others. 'I found it in the old lady's shopping bag. I feel that it is a powerful thing.'

She looked happily at the triple bloom, the most pleasant thing she had seen since arriving in New York.

Heather was in a bad humour. She had just seen Morag returning from what seemed to have been a wild drunken

celebration with a group of Chinese fairies.

'I can't understand it,' she complained to Dinnie. 'Back in Scotland she was the quiet one. Now, not content with being the girl about town with Kerry, she is out partying with the Chinese. How did she manage that? Last week they were trying to kill us. How come she is having fun all the time while I'm stuck here with you?'

'I expect it's her pleasant manner,' said Dinnie. 'No doubt she treats her friends well instead of forcing them to eat vegetables and listen to endless tapes of Sonic Youth.'

Heather was not at all pleased. She had not liked the way some of these Chinese fairies were looking at Morag.

file:///Users/lisa/Downloads/Martin%20Millar%20-%20The%20Good%20Fairies%20of%20New%20York.html

Page 63 of 99

Martin Millar - The Good Fairies of New York.html

6/5/11 2:11 PM

'Hello, Kerry,' shrieked Morag, and fell on the floor drunk. 'Guess what. My fiddle is being fixed by a clever man in Chinatown. He is a friend of Johnny Thunders. He is also a friend of the fairies and I explained everything away and now they like me. I have four dates for next week.

'Furthermore, I have brought you a bloom from the
Polygo-num multiflorum
which I cleverly remembered appears in your alphabet. It grows in China, but the Chinese fairies had lots of them. And not only that,' — she raised herself on her elbow — 'Johnny Thunders played me the guitar solo from "Bad Girl". Slowly. I now have it in my head and will teach you it when I'm sober. He is a wonderful guitarist. Have you seen a 1958 Gibson Tiger Top guitar anywhere? No?'

Morag folded her wings untidily behind her and dropped into unconsciousness.

'I am sick of being stuck here alone,' declared Heather. 'I am going to make some fairy friends of my own.'

'Oh, yeah? Who?'

'The Italians.'

Dinnie laughed.

'You told me they were after you for robbing their banks.'

'I shall rectify the situation.'

Heather sat down in front of the mirror, spat on it to clean away the dust, and took a tiny ivory comb out of her sporran. She got to work on her hair, combing it out till it hung down golden and crimson almost to her waist.

'What are you going to do? Grovel and apologise?'

'No', replied Heather. 'A MacKintosh fairy does not need to grovel and apologise to put right a little

misunderstanding. I shall find out who is important in the Italian tribe, then I'll flirt with them.'

'Flirt with them?'

'That's right. Works every time.'

TWENTY-SIX

In Central Park Petal and Tulip were receiving instruction in swordplay from Maeve.

'Parry. Lunge. Parry. Lunge.'

The young English fairies parried and lunged.

Brannoc and Padraig shared a pipe under a tree. Their new home at the south end of Central Park beside the pond was noisier than their last, but they were getting used to the humans everywhere around.

'It's no use moping about Petal all day,' said Padraig. 'Have you told her you're in love with her?'

Brannoc had not. Nor did he intend to.

'You can't spend the rest of your life hiding up a tree playing sad tunes on the flute, can you?'

Brannoc did not see why not. He was stuck in a foreign country pining over a fairy who spent half her time having sex with her brother. What else was there to do? He looked on at the sword practice, feeling vaguely that he could teach Petal just as well, but somehow never got the. chance.

Maeve hit Tulip on the head with the flat of her blade after he made a particularly feeble attempt at parrying her attack.

'No good at all,' she cried. 'Hopeless. If I'd tried parrying like that the time three Firbolgs attacked me in Connacht they wouldn't have known whether to cut my head off or fall about laughing.'

'Why did they attack you?' panted Tulip, trying to catch his breath.

Maeve shrugged. 'Firbolgs are unpredictable creatures.'

'Especially when you cheat them at dice,' called Padraig.

'Yes,' laughed Maeve. 'Especially when you cheat them at dice. But they cheated first. And it was still a mighty file:///Users/lisa/Downloads/Martin%20Millar%20-%20The%20Good%20Fairies%20of%20New%20York.html

Page 64 of 99

Martin Millar - The Good Fairies of New York.html

6/5/11 2:11 PM

battle, even if it was only over a game of dice. I fought them with swords, knives, bits of magic and bits of wood over three counties before they gave up and fled. My hands were so sore and bloodied it was weeks before I could play music again.

'Which is how I got together with Padraig, really, as he told me afterwards that he'd been trying to catch my attention for months but could never make himself heard over the sound of my pipes.'

Sword practice ended and Maeve came over to play music with Padraig. Petal and Tulip departed into the bushes.

Brannoc felt left out as usual and flew off to wander on his own. Petal's white wings had looked particularly attractive while she was fencing, but this only depressed him further.

He was not, however, as depressed as the fairies across the ocean in Cornwall. They were all being drafted into the army. Tala was preparing a vast fairy host to march across the Atlantic, defeat whatever foreign fairies he found, and recapture his children.

Everywhere there was misery. Red Caps with dogs policed the invisible kingdom and any resistance was quickly

put down.

Magris always made a point of saying that it was not compulsory for the fairies to work in his workhouses. This was true, but as it was forbidden to leave Cornwall, and as all the fairies' land was now in the hands of the landowners, there was no way of growing or gathering food, and the choice was between working for wages or

starving.

Now, as the army mustered, the looms ceased and production came to a halt.

Brannoc, fluttering north through the park, would have been aware that things were bad in England had he thought about it, but he was too involved in thinking about Petal to notice much else. He had a fierce desire to wrap his wings around her and carry her off to a lonely tree-top somewhere. However, he would never do this. He was too polite. Also, Petal would strongly object.

He settled down disconsolately on a tree and there, on the ground below him, were four black fairies asleep on the grass. Brannoc's first impulse was to flee.

No, he thought. I won't. It is stupid for us to be enemies. I will go and talk to them.

Maeve and Padraig, as was customary with fairies, slept through the latter part of the day to awaken at dusk and play music.

They woke, kissed, and poured out a little whisky to set the night in motion. Petal and Tulip emerged from behind a bush to join them.

'Where's Brannoc?'

No one knew.

A furtive bag lady trundled her shopping trolley through the bushes, looking carefully to the left and right. The fairies were interested in this. They had seen her several times, and each time she passed, an equally strange-looking man followed after her.

A fairy-like shape plummeted through the branches above, hovered for a second, then plunged to the earth with a thud.