The Day I Fell Into a Fairytale Read online

  ‘That what?’ asked Lana.

  ‘That she wants to eat them,’ replied her mother briskly. ‘It’s a little bit of a scary story, so maybe let’s not read Hansel and Gretel. How about this one, Rumpelstiltskin?’

  ‘Rumpel-what?’ asked Lana.

  ‘Rumpelstiltskin. Here, there’s a picture of him.’

  Lana’s mother turned the book round so Lana could take a look. There on the page was an old-fashioned picture of a familiar figure.

  ‘That’s the man from the supermarket!’

  Lana’s mother smiled. ‘Hmmm, I suppose it does look a bit like him, doesn’t it?’

  ‘It’s not like him,’ pressed Lana. ‘It is him.’

  ‘Of course, dear,’ said her mother dismissively. ‘Anyway, here he is, spinning straw into gold.’

  ‘Who’s the girl?’ asked Lana.

  ‘The miller’s daughter,’ said her mother. ‘From what I remember of the story, her father told the king that she could spin straw into gold, which was a lie. He was just showing off. So, the king locks the miller’s daughter in a room full of straw and says if she hasn’t spun it all into gold by the morning, then he’ll, erm…’ her mother’s voice trailed away again.

  ‘What will he do?’ asked Lana.

  ‘Er… kill her,’ said her mother.

  ‘Kill her!’

  ‘Yes.’ Her mother was beginning to wonder if the man at the till had been right, and the stories weren’t suitable for Lana after all. ‘Look, maybe we should find a different book to read tonight? Something a bit nicer?’

  ‘But what happened to the miller’s daughter?’ asked Lana.

  ‘Well,’ said her mother reluctantly, ‘after the king has gone, Rumpelstiltskin appears and offers to spin all the straw into gold for the girl, if she gives him her necklace. So, she agrees, and he spins all the straw into gold. But the next morning the king is so impressed to see all the gold that, instead of letting the girl go, he locks her in a bigger room, with even more straw in it, and tells her to do it again.’

  ‘Does the little old man come back?’

  ‘Yes, he does, and he helps again, this time in return for a… ring. Yes, that’s right, a ring.’

  ‘And then does the king let her go?’

  ‘Um, no actually,’ her mother started to look a bit uncomfortable again. ‘He locks her in an even bigger room, with an absolutely massive amount of straw, and tells her to do it again. This time she has nothing to give the little old man, so he asks for her… first born child in return,’ said her mother, flicking through the pages. ‘This isn’t the nicest of stories either. Are you sure you don’t want another book?’

  ‘No,’ said Lana. ‘These all sound much more exciting than the things we usually read. What about this story?’ asked Lana, pointing at a picture of a beautiful girl, asleep on a bed, with roses growing all around her.

  ‘That’s Sleeping Beauty,’ said her mother. ‘You must know that one?’

  Lana shook her head, because she didn’t.

  ‘That was one of my favourites when I was little. I don’t think it’s scary… not that I can remember, anyway.’

  ‘It sounds lovely! Please can we read it?’ asked Lana.

  ‘All right,’ said her mother. ‘I suppose we can read a little and see if it’s suitable.’

  And this… well, this is pretty much what she read:

  Once there was a king and queen who very much hoped for a baby. But hope as they might, no baby came.

  Soon they began to lose heart, and busied themselves with hobbies instead. The king organised archery competitions, while the queen took up wild swimming.

  One day, when the queen was swimming in the castle moat, a strange red-eyed frog hopped out of the water and onto the bank.

  ‘Great news!’ chirruped the frog. ‘Before the year is out, you and the king will have a child. Her name will be Briar Rose, and she will be everything your hearts desire.’

  The frog, it seemed, was right, because several months later, the royal couple had a most beautiful baby girl.

  The king and queen were so happy that they decided to hold a feast to show Briar Rose off to the world.

  They invited only the most important people in the kingdom, including the thirteen fairies.

  Now, as everybody knows, fairies only eat off gold plates. But, as they were writing the invitations, the king realised they only had twelve gold plates and no time to get another, so instead of inviting all thirteen fairies, he only invited twelve.

  Soon, the day of the party came, and after dinner each of the fairies came forward to give Briar Rose a gift.

  ‘Darling, Briar Rose,’ said the first fairy, ‘I shall give you… beauty.’

  ‘Briar Rose already has beauty,’ said the second fairy, ‘so I shall give her… wit.’

  There were so many fairies that soon they were running out of gifts.

  ‘Your baby already has beauty, wit, charm, grace, humility, bearing, exceptional leadership skills, excellent hand-eye co-ordination, an ear for music, a refreshing lack of self-pity and great hair,’ said the twelfth fairy, ‘so I shall give—’

  ‘Stop right there!’ boomed a voice, and everyone turned to see the thirteenth fairy in the doorway, looking very angry indeed.

  ‘A little bird told me you were having a party without me,’ she sneered at the king and queen. ‘And what do you know? It’s true!’

  The king tried to explain, but the thirteenth fairy did not wish to hear excuses. Her brow furrowed, her upper lip snarled, and her eyes glowed as red as burning coals. Her black cloak billowed behind her and she began to rise up, growing taller and taller until she almost reached the ceiling. It really was a terrifying sight.

  ‘Hoping for gifts, are you?!’ she roared. ‘Well, here’s mine. On her fifteenth birthday, Briar Rose will prick her finger on a spindle and die!’

  And, before anyone could stop her, she changed into a large red-eyed frog, then leapt out of the window.

  For a moment, no one knew quite what to say. Then the queen burst into tears.

  ‘Our darling daughter!’ she wailed. ‘What will become of you?’

  But, luckily, the twelfth fairy had yet to give her gift. She had been going to give a remarkable ability to find lost socks, as that was pretty much all that was left, but now she saw her chance to do some good.

  ‘I think I can help,’ she said. ‘The thirteenth fairy’s magic is very strong, so I can’t remove the curse, but I can soften it a little. On her fifteenth birthday, Briar Rose will indeed prick her finger on a spindle, but she will not die. Instead she will fall asleep for one hundred years—’

  ‘Thank you! Thank you!’ interrupted the queen with joy.

  ‘What good is that?’ said the king. ‘One hundred years! When she wakes, we will all be dead!’

  ‘If you’ll let me finish,’ said the twelfth fairy. ‘When Briar Rose falls asleep, so will everyone else in the palace—’

  ‘What?!’ exclaimed the king. ‘Everyone?’

  ‘Yes,’ said the twelfth fairy. ‘Then, when she awakes, you will all wake with her.’

  ‘You think there’s going to be anything left of this place after one hundred years?’ spluttered the king. ‘This tablecloth alone is worth eighty ducats. That wall-hanging is worth five hundred. Everything will be stolen! The place will be overrun with thieves. I’ll be lucky to wake up with my breeches on.’

  ‘Ah, I’ve thought of that too,’ said the twelfth fairy (who was, to be fair, getting a little impatient at being constantly interrupted). ‘As soon as the castle falls into its slumber, a giant wall of thorns will grow all around it, protecting you all from anyone who tries to enter.’

  ‘Seriously?’ asked the king. ‘That’s the best you can do?’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said the twelfth fairy, tartly. ‘If someone’s got a better idea, I’m eager to hear it.’

  ‘Let’s not anger another fairy, darling,’ the queen said to her husband. ‘One bad spell i
s quite enough to be going on with.’

  The king harumphed and folded his arms but said nothing more.

  ‘Thank you so much for helping us,’ the queen said to the twelfth fairy. ‘We gratefully accept your gift.’

  ‘My pleasure,’ said the twelfth fairy, still feeling slightly put out.

  ‘Yes, thank you,’ muttered the king, begrudgingly. ‘But I intend to make sure Briar Rose doesn’t prick her finger in the first place. From this moment forth, by royal decree, all spindles are banned. Each and every one of them must be destroyed!’

  ‘What’s a spindle?’ asked Lana, looking up from the book.

  ‘It’s a pointy stick, basically. For spinning yarn,’ said her mother.

  ‘What’s yarn?’

  ‘Thread. You know, for making clothes.’

  ‘So, if the king banned spindles… does that mean nobody had any clothes?’

  ‘Erm, I’m not sure… Anyway, I think that’s probably enough reading for one night.’

  ‘But what happened?’ protested Lana. ‘Did it work? Banning spindles, I mean.’

  ‘Lana, go to sleep. You can hear the rest at bedtime tomorrow.’ And with that, her mother closed the book, tucked Lana under the covers, kissed her on the cheek, and turned out the bedside light.

  Chapter Four

  The next morning, Lana woke early with only one thing on her mind: Briar Rose. Now that the thirteenth fairy had cursed her, and the king had banned spindles, she just had to know what happened next…

  She reached for the book, determined to read it for herself. But her bedside table was empty except for her water glass, and there was no sign of it on her bookshelf either.

  Mum must have taken it, she thought to herself. She thinks it’s too scary for me to read on my own.

  There was only one thing for it: she was going to have to steal the book back.

  As quietly as she could, Lana tiptoed across the landing and poked her head round the door to her parents’ bedroom. It was empty. She checked under the bed, on top of the chest of drawers, and on the shelves in her mother’s clothes cupboard. But there was no sign of the book anywhere.

  She was about to give up, when once again she caught sight of the bottle of Enchantment on her mother’s dressing table. She couldn’t resist. It wouldn’t hurt to dab a drop on her wrists, she decided, like she sometimes saw her mother do. Besides, it might take her mind off Briar Rose.

  Suddenly, she heard her father’s voice in the hallway.

  ‘Oh my goodness! Would you look at these prices!’

  Once again, Lana scrambled around, trying to put the bottle back, accidentally pressing the nozzle. This time it squirted in her right eye, which immediately began to weep.

  ‘Ow!’ she cried, clasping her hands to her face.

  ‘Poppet!’ cooed her father, entering the room. ‘What’s the matter?’

  She had no choice: she was going to have to pretend to be upset, just like she had with her mother.

  ‘Mum’s hidden my book,’ said Lana, looking up at him with streaming eyes. Or rather, one streaming eye and one quite normal one.

  ‘Oh, dear,’ said her father, scooping her up in his arms. ‘I’m sure she’s just put it somewhere safe. Anyway, she’s at work. I’m looking after you this morning.’

  Disappointment flooded through Lana; now she would have to wait a whole day to find out where her mum had hidden her book. And, with Harrison busy studying again, another day of boredom stretched out ahead of her.

  ‘Never mind, Lana,’ said her father, producing a leaflet. ‘Feast your eyes on this! I just found it on the doormat.’

  Her vision was a bit blurry from all the fake eye-rubbing, but even so, Lana could just about make out the name at the top: Grimm’s.

  ‘Look at these prices! Twenty-seven bottles of toilet cleaner for the price of twenty-six! Thirty-eight tubs of cocktail sticks for the price of thirty-seven!’ His eyes lit up at the thought of such bargains. ‘So, what do you say we go and check it out? It might cheer you up?’

  Lana readily agreed. The strange supermarket, with its equally strange employee, was the most entertaining thing she’d come across for weeks.

  When Lana and her father arrived at Grimm’s a few minutes later, the car park was almost full to bursting. It seemed that news of a bargain travelled fast. Instead of parking right outside the store, they had to cruise round and round to try and find a space.

  ‘These people can’t all be from the village,’ tutted her father. ‘Haven’t they got their own cut-price supermarkets to go to? Argh!’

  As he spoke, an overloaded trolley lurched out onto the tarmac, forcing him to slam on the brakes.

  ‘Mind where you’re going!’

  ‘Sorry!’ called a bearded man from behind a mountain of kitchen roll. ‘Didn’t see you there!’

  ‘Honestly,’ said her father, under his breath. ‘Does he really need all of that?’

  ‘Perhaps he saw how cheap it was, and couldn’t help himself?’ suggested Lana, but her father didn’t seem to pick up on the joke.

  And that wasn’t the only joke he didn’t pick up on. As they crawled along the aisles, waiting their turn at the shelves, Lana invented a very funny game. Every time her father paused to study the price on something, Lana would sneak as much sugary food as she possibly could into the trolley. She risked two pints of chocolate milk, a family pack of Choco Pops and a bucket of chocolate-chip cookies.

  It was only when he reached the checkout and started putting their shopping on the conveyor belt, that her father realised what Lana had been up to.

  ‘Where did this chocolate log come from?’ he asked accusingly. ‘And what about this jar of chocolate spread?’

  ‘Maybe the thirteenth fairy put them in there,’ said Lana, helpfully.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The thirteenth fairy. She wasn’t invited to Briar Rose’s party, so she didn’t get any sweet treats.’

  Lana’s father narrowed his eyes.

  ‘I see. Is this to do with your book of fairytales, by any chance?’

  Lana nodded, trying not to giggle.

  But her father wasn’t amused. He took a shopping basket from beside the till and begin to fill it with Lana’s stolen sugar. ‘You need to put these back, right now, or there’s going to be a Consequence.’

  A Consequence, as Lana well knew, meant something bad.

  ‘Like what?’ she asked.

  ‘Like no bedtime story,’ said her father, who seemed to have a second sense for what Lana wanted most.

  ‘But I want to find out what happens to Briar Rose!’

  ‘Then you’d better be quick,’ came the firm reply.

  Which was how Lana found herself dragging a basket full of chocolate bars, cakes, biscuits and cereals around the corner of the Pet Food aisle, narrowly avoiding an elderly lady on a mobility scooter, who swerved wildly, running straight over the toe of the little old man. ‘Oi!’ he yelped, clasping his foot in pain. He was wearing his maroon boiler suit again and the moustache he’d had at the checkout was gone. ‘Watch where you’re going, you stupid old bat!’

  But the elderly lady seemed not to hear, and trundled off down the aisle.

  ‘Don’t be so rude!’ exclaimed Lana, shocked at the little old man’s reaction. ‘Anyway, it wasn’t her fault – it was mine.’

  ‘Huh,’ he grunted. ‘I might have known.’ A smile curled at the corner of his lips. ‘Come to bring the book back, have you? I told you it was too scary.’

  ‘Actually,’ said Lana defiantly. ‘I’m really enjoying it.’

  ‘Really?’ he asked, sounding surprised. ‘Which story have you started with?’

  ‘Sleeping Beauty,’ said Lana.

  ‘Oooh,’ he said, smiling again. ‘Where are you up to?’

  ‘The thirteenth fairy has cast her curse and the king has destroyed the spindles.’

  ‘Ah,’ he said, nodding sagely. ‘That explains it. That’s just the set-up. You haven’t got
to the scary bit yet. Well, I’m sure when you do, you’ll be bringing that book back, all right.’

  And with that, he headed off down towards the Toys and Games aisle. Moving quickly, Lana chucked her basket in a nearby trolley and scurried after him.

  ‘What scary bit?’

  The little old man turned slowly.

  ‘You really want to know?’

  Lana nodded. He fished a well-thumbed red-leather booklet from the top pocket of his overalls, consulted it, then put it back.

  ‘May I suggest you try the sherbet lemons?’

  For a moment Lana couldn’t understand what he could possibly mean, but then her eyes came to rest on something truly extraordinary. Smack dab in the middle of the toys were the biggest tubs of pick ’n’ mix she had ever seen.

  Lana frowned in confusion. Pick ’n’ mix was one of her favourite things in the whole world, so she couldn’t imagine how she hadn’t noticed this HUGE selection yesterday. But there it was, row after row of giant crystal-clear tubs, each and every one crammed full of the most delicious-looking sweets.

  She took a step closer. Entranced, she lifted the nearest lid. An entire tub full of pear drops. She could almost feel the sharp crystallised sugar, scraping the roof of her mouth. She lifted the next lid. Jelly babies. She loved jelly babies!

  ‘Found them yet?’ grinned the little old man.

  Lana shook her head.

  ‘There, at the back.’

  She tried to open the lid, but it was just out of reach.

  ‘Here, let me lift you up.’

  And before Lana could protest, he reached up under her arms, and lifted her towards the lid of the tub.

  ‘Go on,’ he urged, straining under her weight. ‘Open it.’

  His sharp hands were digging into her armpits, so Lana quickly lifted the lid. Unlike the other tubs, this one was almost empty. Only a small cluster of sherbet lemons clung to the bottom, like hibernating beetles.

  ‘Mmm, lovely,’ she offered. ‘Can I get down now?’

  ‘Try one.’