| 13th
Oct 1909.
Today
I spoke with the Bishop. I had decided to do this a month ago,
and this morning when he called, I resolved to take the plunge.
I cannot tell you how fearful I was, and yet I felt there was no other
help for me against the Fairies. The Bishop was, of course, familiar
with the photograph that had appeared in "The Regular" two years
ago, but how was I to tell him of the things that had happened since?
Or of the doubts that had assailed me in recent years? Still,
since the mysterious death of my parents two years ago, he has been
my spiritual adviser, and I took courage from the fact that he was a
learned man and a sympathetic friend. Or so I thought.
We were seated in the morning room beside a small fire. The sunlight
swept in through the window and dazzled me somewhat, so that I could
not clearly see the Bishop's face. However, I had resolved to
tell my story and I am not the sort of person to be put off once I have
come to a decision.
|
 © Brian Froud |
"Your Grace," I began.
"I feel I can confide in you as my oldest and most trusted friend."
"My dear Lady Angelica," he replied. "No-one could have your best
interests more closely bound to their heart." I shut my eyes and
took a deep breath. This was the moment. I had this book-
my book of Pressed Fairies- upon my lap and it gave me confidence to feel
its familiar edges and smell the slight perfumed fragrance that exuded
from its pages and that seemed to strengthen as my collection grew.
It was time I spoke out, and for the first time since I had spoken to
that wretched Cousin Nicholas, I would reveal to someone my long-held
secret. In the sun-beams I thought, for a fleeting instant, that
I saw MoonHopper fondling her breast close to his Grace's ear, but as
I looked again all I could see was dust in the air.
"Your Grace," I began again, "since I was a small child..." And
so I told him of my first experiences with the Fairies, I told him of
Florizal, the Nosey Fairy, of the Fairy
Call, of the Mischief-makers. I told
him about Auntie Mercy and the disappearance of my precious book, of Pipskintinkle
and Tuppence, of the way the Fairies seemed to
grow bolder and seemed to provoke me into pressing them... |
 © Brian Froud |
That
night two fairies whom I had never seen before came and sat at the end
of my bed. They just sat there looking at me without saying anything.
At length I said: "Why don't you all leave me alone? What do you
all want?"
"We thought you'd never ask," they said.
"Well? What is it?" I asked.
"You've got to guess," they said.
I hesitated. When I tried to speak, it only came out as a whisper:
"Revenge. That's what you want isn't
it?"
The two creatures burst into peals of laughter and jumped into the air
around my head. "Angelica! Angelica!"
they cried, "You never understood!" And then
they were gone before I could ask them anything more.
~Lady
Cottington at age 21
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