Martin Millar - The Good Fairies of New York.html (20 page)

big city had got to her.

'We will have to go and bargain for them.'

TWENTY-NINE

Morag had a date with three Chinese and Heather had a date with four Italians and Dinnie was booked to go

shopping with Kerry.

'Shopping?' he said, rather weakly, as she appeared at his door.

'Don't you like shopping?'

'I love it,' said Dinnie, lying so convincingly that even Heather was moved to give him a firm nod of approval.

'Okay. Let's shop.'

They went first to the psychedelic clothes shop in Ludlow Street. This had been a great success with Morag who, after visiting, had asked Kerry if she could possibly make her a fringed shoulder bag, a multicoloured waistcoat, pink and red sunglasses, tartan tights, and a headband with the Southern States flag on it. Kerry said she would do her best, and did. With Dinnie it was not such a success, but he pretended nobly.

Morag was meanwhile out with the Chinese fairies, searching for Magenta.

They laughed good-humouredly at her tales of Scotland and were sympathetic about her being forced to flee. They knew what it was like to be a fugitive; back in China their families had suffered hard times, and the humans they had joined to cross the oceans had been fleeing from terrible oppression.

'Still,' said Shau-Ju, 'I do not understand why you did not simply hand back the pieces of the banner to the

MacLeods right away. Then they would surely not have pursued you.'

Morag shrugged, and said that the MacLeods were just not that reasonable.

Heather, now feeling fairly confident that Dinnie would not commit any outrages with Kerry, was settling into file:///Users/lisa/Downloads/Martin%20Millar%20-%20The%20Good%20Fairies%20of%20New%20York.html

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having a good time with the Italians. Her four prospective lovers showed her round the crowded streets of Little Italy, where the pavements outside the restaurants were jammed full of tables, and the quieter streets a few blocks north, where for some reason there was a series of shops selling guns.

Heather peered through the metal-clad windows and shuddered.

'If the MacLeods ever invent such things I'm done for.'

'Why did you not simply hand back the pieces of the banner?' asked Cesare, but Heather could not give a

convincing reason, save that the MacLeods were most unreasonable and would have chased them anyway.

Kerry took Dinnie to all her favourite clothes shops in the East Village. Afterwards they made their way home via the health food shop.

'He sure is a good-looking guy,' said the assistant after they left.

'Looks like he's got a nice girl now.'

The assistants were slightly disappointed at this. 'Got a nickel?' asked a beggar down the street. Dinnie gave him five quarters, four nickels and eight dimes, and apologised for not having any more change.

'No,' said Morag. 'I promise we are not Persian cavalry. Nor are we hostile Carduchian tribesmen. Neither are we enemies from the country of the Drilae, or a force of Macrone warriors. We are not any of these things. We are Scottish and Chinese fairies.'

'Ha, ha, ha,' said Magenta. 'Don't be ridiculous.'

'Isn't it wonderful having fairies visiting us?' said Kerry.

'Truly wonderful,' answered Dinnie, figuring that one more lie couldn't make any difference.

'But I'm so sorry for Morag and Heather having to flee from Scotland.'

Dinnie shrugged. He had never understood why they had not just given the pieces of the flag back, and said so to Kerry.

'Well,' said Kerry. T think the pieces have too much sentimental value for them. They can't bear to part with them.'

'Sentimental value?'

'The bargaining did not go well,' Morag informed Kerry, later in the evening. 'Magenta refused utterly to give up the guitar, which we suspect of being Johnny Thunders' 1958 Gibson. However, after much hard negotiating,

during which time she referred to me continually as an agent of Tissaphernes and threatened to set her Hoplites on me and to hell with the consequences, she eventually agreed to trade the Bhat Gwa mirror for a tin of shoe polish, a bottle of methylated spirits and a bag of assorted herbs and spices.'

'And the poppy?'

'She lost it.'

Kerry was not surprised to hear this.

Heather rolled into Dinnie's rooms spectacularly drunk. It had taken her four attempts to mount the fire escape and a long time after that to climb in the window.

Dinnie was watching television. She lurched over to him and clapped him heartily on the shoulder.

'Hey, Dinnie old buddy,' she enthused. 'These Italians certainly know how to show a girl a good time. How'd it go with Kerry?'

Dinnie seemed to shrink in his chair and did not reply.

'Well?'

'She stormed away in a bad mood. I don't think she wants to see me again,' he replied finally.

Heather was aghast.

'But you were getting on so well. What went wrong?'

It took some time for Heather to drag the story out of him. Apparently Kerry had told Dinnie that she believed the reason Morag and Heather refused to let go of the fragments of the banner was because they had used them as

blankets the first time they had had sex.

The sentimentality of this story left Kerry dewy-eyed. Unfortunately Dinnie had thrown back his head and

guffawed heartily before saying he had always known they were a pair of goddamn lesbian pervert fairies and no file:///Users/lisa/Downloads/Martin%20Millar%20-%20The%20Good%20Fairies%20of%20New%20York.html

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wonder they had been chased out of Scotland. Probably they'd end up being chased out of the USA as well.

'And after that Kerry seemed to be upset.'

Heather abused Dinnie for abusing Kerry's sensibilities in the strongest possible terms, for a very long time.

'You have now well and truly fucked the whole thing up. Good night.'

Heather woke up with a sickening hangover. She tried to rise but could only make it to her hands and knees.

'My head feels as big as a tennis ball,' she moaned, and crawled slowly along the carpet to the bathroom, her wings trailing down limply around her. She promised herself she would stick to whisky in future, and avoid wine completely.

Dinnie was woken up by a series of groans and gurgling noises.

'Good morning, Dinnie,' said Heather, crawling back into his room. 'I have just been sick in your shower stall.'

'I hope you cleaned it up.'

'I was too weak to reach the tap. Don't worry, fairy vomit is no doubt sweet-smelling to humans. Make me some coffee.'

The thistle fairy was in a foul mood, partly because she was so hungover and partly because her hair was in such a state.

'The air here is filthy. It is ruining my looks.'

'It helps if you don't crawl home in the gutter,' commented Dinnie.

Heather sharply told him to shut up.

'If I'm going to think of a way for you to win your way back into Kerry's affections it will need total

concentration. And let me say it is a difficult problem, enough even to tax the mind of a specialist like myself. Not only have you insulted Kerry's friend Morag, you have insulted all her other friends who are lesbians by calling them perverts. Furthermore, you have mocked her for being sentimental and she will hate that.

'Worst of all, you let your true self shine through, and no woman is going to want to risk that happening a second time.

'It will require much thought. In other words, you keep your big mouth shut for the entire morning and leave me in peace.'

Aelis and Aelric stood shoulder to shoulder, battling with Tala's mercenaries. Aelric had a sophisticated twin-sword-fighting technique and could hold his own even against the experienced mercenaries, as could Aelis, but the rebels were outnumbered and hard pressed.

After being surprised on a cattle raid they were now trying to reach the relative safety of Tintagel Castle.

Aelric slashed at his adversary, forcing him to retreat.

'I refuse to die without receiving a kiss from Marion,' he moaned, breathing heavily.

'For the Goddess's sake,' complained Aelis, 'will you shut up about that bimbo and concentrate on fighting while I conjure a mist.'

Aelric and the others gathered around Aelis to protect her while she magicked up a mist to help them escape.

Things were considerably more peaceful in Central Park now that Brannoc had made friends with the Ghanaian

fairies. He had successfully explained who they were and where they came from and why, and apologised for any past misunderstandings. The Ghanaians accepted these explanations and apologies like the gracious folk they were, and now the three English and two Irish fairies were welcome to come and go as they pleased. Maeve, Padraig,

Petal and Tulip were now frequent visitors in Harlem. Brannoc visited too, but his most favoured destination was underneath a bush with his new girlfriend Ocarco, a fairy with black skin, black wings, black eyes and an excellent file:///Users/lisa/Downloads/Martin%20Millar%20-%20The%20Good%20Fairies%20of%20New%20York.html

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gift for cheering up poor lonely homesick strangers.

Everyone was happy apart from Okailey, wise woman of the tribe. When she sniffed the air she did not like it. She could smell some strange scent coming from somewhere. There was a light breeze from the west which troubled

her. Though they had dealt easily enough with the mercenaries, she did not think that their worries were over.

She told the park fairies of her forebodings and asked them to tell her everything they could about Tala, King of Cornwall.

'Do you really think he might invade?'

No one knew for sure, but it seemed possible. His wizard, or technician as he now liked to be known, could send any amount of moonbows over the ocean if he wished, enough for an entire army.

There were one hundred and fifty Ghanaian fairies. Not enough to withstand such an invasion.

'What about the Italians and the Chinese?'

Okailey admitted that she did not know how many of them there were, but she doubted if either tribe numbered

any more than hers. Living in the city parks did not seem to encourage much growth among their peoples. There was no room for their numbers to expand.

'I do not see how we could possibly match the numbers you say Tala can muster.'

They contemplated the prospect of the entire English fairy host marching into Central Park. It was a grim thought.

'Well, anyway,' said Okailey, 'we must decide what to do if it does happen. It may be that we shall just have to flee. But I think it would be as well to know what the other New York fairies think. Normally we have no contact, but I have now decided to go to their territory and speak with them.'

'It is odd,' said Padraig, 'that some fairies came here with humans from Ghana, and from China, and from Italy, but none seem to have journeyed from Ireland. I know that many Irish came to New York. I wonder why no Irish

fairies accompanied them?'

'Perhaps they could not be induced to leave the beautiful green woods and meadows,' suggested Maeve.

'Perhaps they were too drunk to get on the boat,' suggested Brannoc.

'And what do you mean by that?' demanded Maeve belligerently. Okailey stopped the argument before it started.

Her aura was both powerful and soothing and it was hard to lose your temper in front of her.

She departed to make arrangements for her journey south to Little Italy and Chinatown. Maeve, not pleased by

Brannoc's remark, announced that she was going to look for some Irish fairies.

'If there are any more O'Briens here, we won't have to worry about a Cornish army.'

Heather spent the entire day either grumbling at Dinnie or trying to think of some way for him to win back Kerry's affections. When Dinnie played his fiddle she abused his lack of skill, saying that Morag was right, he was a disgrace to the MacKintoshes, and if that tune was meant to be the 'De'il Amang the Taliors', then she was a bowl of porridge.

When Dinnie listened to his tape of Bad Brains she said that if he didn't like it, it was because the merits of the music were far beyond the comprehension of his small brain and why didn't he get on and practise his fiddle.

All in all, it was a tense day. Heather switched on the baseball and switched it off in frustration as the Yankees'

manager came off worse in a fierce argument with the umpire. She moaned loudly about not being able to find a drop of proper malt whisky anywhere and more or less accused Dinnie of being personally responsible for the

production of Jack Daniels.

She switched on the baseball again, just in time to see the Red Sox hit a home run.

'Oh, to hell with it. This is a bleak day. And I cannot think what you should do next. You are an idiot, Dinnie, and you will never win Kerry now.'

Dinnie slouched in his armchair, too depressed himself to reply to Heather's tirade of insults.

There was a knock on the door.

'Hello, Dinnie,' said Kerry, flowers in her hair, bright smile on her face. 'You want to come out with me tonight?'

After she left, Heather was perplexed to the point of amazement. Was it possible that Dinnie had actually become so attractive that Kerry liked him even after his vile behaviour?

'Ha, ha, you dumb elf,' sniggered Dinnie. 'So much for all your plans and worries. She wasn't insulted at all, she's file:///Users/lisa/Downloads/Martin%20Millar%20-%20The%20Good%20Fairies%20of%20New%20York.html

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practically beating the door down for another date.

'Yes, sir.' Dinnie beamed at his mirror. 'That girl recognises a fine catch when she sees one.'

Across the road Morag was struggling through the window with a bag of candy and a beautiful yellow forsythia