After ever After
Mr Newford lay on his bed his back propped against the headboard. The rain had been falling all day. On either side of him his children Jake and Jasmine were curled up under the duvet. Mr Newford glanced at them, first Jake to his left and Jazzy to his right. Were they sleeping? He wasn't too sure so he stayed still and silent for a moment. I'll continue for a few more minutes he thought.
“And so the day came when the prince married the princess. The king of and queen of Norford were happy and the king and queen of Sufford were happy. The wedding was a fantastic day and the princess wore a beautiful white dress. The prince of Norford married the princess of Sufford and everybody in the land rejoiced and there was much merry-making. They became the King and Queen of Newford, with their own castle and their very own little prince.” Mr Newford looked left. “And princess.” He looked right. “And they all lived very happily.” He sighed to himself, checked his children were asleep and not thinking, he snapped the book shut - clap! Jasmine or Jazzy as people like to call her, rolled over in her sleep. Jake didn't move. Mr Newford sighed again. “Until the dark clouds came,” he added, thinking how he might best creep off the bed without waking the children.
“Where did the dark clouds come from?” Jake wasn't asleep, he was nearly there. He'd just arrived in the dreamy place between asleep and awake, until his father snapped the book shut. Jake rubbed his eyes and shuffled around in the bed, fidgeting as little boys do, especially when they're supposed to be asleep.
“It doesn't say Jake, sorry.” Mr Newford held up the closed book into the air. Jake smiled at his father.
“Dad, I can read you know. That book tells you how to fix the telly, there's a picture of the telly on the front. There are no stories inside.”
“Blast, I've been caught. I'll have to go to the dungeons,” said Jake's father.
“No you don't, they're magic books, mummy makes the stories up too. Her magic book is really about cooking, there's Yorkshire puddings inside.” Jake laughed and forced the book open in his father's hand.
“No more, not tonight,” his dad replied sternly, closing the book again.
“Pleeeaaase!” whined Jake, a little too loudly. Jazzy woke up and started to cry. As little girls do sometimes when disturbed from their beauty sleep. Her father lifted her out of the bed and sat her on his lap.
“Pass that to me please,” he said to Jake, pointing to the blanket folded at the bottom of the bed. He took the blanket from his son and wrapped into around Jazzy. Jazzy buried her head into her daddy's chest and yawned a mighty yawn for such a little girl.
“Please, story,” Jake said again.
“Yes, story!” Jazzy looked up at her father with her bright blue eyes and opened the book. Mr Newford could not resist the Jazzy's eyes, they were just like her mother's.
“ Yes, tell us who made the dark clouds,” insisted her brother. Their father sighed heavily and turned his eyes down into the book.
“There weren't really any dark clouds, not any that you could look up and see in the sky. Bad things started to happen in the new king an queen's kingdom.”
“Why?” Jack looked puzzled.
“You know, I think it may have been a troll who lived deep underground. With all his digging and tunnelling. One day the new castle started to sink into the ground and the new king and queen were very worried. They had to call the royal builders to try to stop castle from sinking.”
“Umm,” Jazzy yawned again before putting her thumb into her mouth.
“Soon after, the old king, the new king's father, he got very very sick. He passed away and went up to heaven.” Mr Newford's voice was very sad.
“What's it like up heaven?” Jazzy took her thumb out of her mouth just long enough to ask the question.
“I'm not exactly sure,” his voice brightened up. “You know, I heard it's a bit like Australia, but it's on the other side of the moon. They don't have telly or the internet and there are no postmen.”
“That must be terrible,” said Jake.
“No, I heard it was brilliant and fantastic. So fantastic that nobody ever comes back.”
“Can't we go even go and visit there.” Jazzy's thumb was out of her mouth again.
“Only in your dreams, that's what I heard anyway.” He lifted up the duvet and Jazzy got properly back into the bed. “The king's mother's heart was broken. All the wizards in the kingdom couldn't fix it.”
“What about all the king's horses and all the king's men?” Jazzy's face was a picture of concern.
“Oh Bless,” he pulled his daughter to him. They were all sacked. If they could help humpty-dumpty, what use were they? The king's mum went to stay in a special place with other kings and queens with broken hearts. I don't think she liked very much there, so one day she packed her bags and moved up to heaven with the old king.” Jazzy was quickly falling to sleep. She was soothed by the rain against the window pane and the vibrations of her dad's voice directly into her ear. She closed her eyes with her head on her dad's chest and drifted off to a place where everything was pink and fluffy.
“The sinking castle and the bad things that had happened to the old king and queen made the new king very angry. Everything was supposed to be happy ever after. The king wanted to find the troll and slay him, cut off his big fat ugly head. But the king couldn't find the troll and he became more and more angry. Because the queen thought the king was angry at her, they started to argue. Everyday there was shouting in the palace and when the kingdom's football team were beaten in the cup final, the king was even more angry. |The king was furious, that goal was offside he roared and threw his royal goblet so hard that it smashed, and a piece of glass hit the queen. The poor queen had to go to the hospital.”
“What's offside?” asked Jake.
“That's not important son,” Mr Newford continued. “When the queen came home. The king and queen decided things had gone too far. They agreed they would seek the wise witch to see if she could undo the evil of the troll.
“Was she a black witch or a white witch?” asked Jake.
“The kingdom didn't just have just black witches and white witches. They didn't believe in all that white witches are good witches and black witches are bad nonsense. There were all different colours and types and they all did different things. The king and the queen went to see a very nice witch. I think she was called a social witch, because she always said nice things. She said she'd do everything she could but the king and the queen had to be nice to each other for a hundred days. Everything was so perfectly perfect for eighty-three days. On the night of the eighty-third day a most terrible thing happened.” Mr Newford stopped and rubbed his eyes. He looked over at the rain beating against the window. Then he scratched his stubbly beard that had grown over the weekend. “The king went to a festival with the knights,” he said.
“What sort of festival?” asked Jake.
“Erm, jousting yes, it was jousting. And there was much merry-making. They made so much noise with their merry-making that they had to put him in the dungeon for the night.”
“But he was the king. They can't put him in the dungeon.”
“Well, they didn't recognise him because he'd left his crown at home and by the time they discovered who he was, he'd fallen fast asleep and was snoring loudly. They covered him with a blanket and left him until the morning. When the king arrived back at the palace, the queen was very angry. King! She shouted at him, you have been fox-hunting! Haven't you?”
“You're not allowed to hunt for foxes are you dad?”
“No,” replied his father. “Especially, if you are a married king and should know better than to go fox-hunting. The queen was very upset and she cried all night. While the king was out merry-making he'd forgotten it was the queen's birthday. And this was not the first time. Even the king agreed he was a rubbish king! He'd made the queen sad, he'd made the little prince and princess sad. He was making everybody sad.”
“Was it because of the troll and the dark clouds?” Jake was very concerned.
“I don't think so son,” he scratched his stubbly beard again, and looked down into the book. “The king couldn't blame the troll for everything. The king and queen went to see the social witch again. Please help us begged the king. I cannot help you, replied the witch. You've broken my spell. You must go and see the mighty wizard. Only the mighty wizard can help you now, but I will come with you. The wizard's castle was very scary. The king and queen told the wizard all of the story. The king was frightened by the mighty wizard but he tried to be brave and he tried his hardest not to cry.”
“Dad, kings don't cry, do they?” asked Jake.
“I think you'll learn everybody cries, I think kings just try to do it in secret.” Mr Newford hugged his son and kissed him on the forehead before continuing. You've been a very bad king, boomed the wizard.”
“Dad can you do a scary wizard's voice please?” asked Jake
“No tonight,” he answered. Your sister is asleep.
“You've been a very bad king, said the wizard.” Mr Newford started again. “You must leave the castle and give it to the queen, the prince and the princess. You are forever banished from the kingdom. Please mighty wizard, pleaded the queen and the social witch, think of the little prince and the princess. Very well, agreed the mighty wizard. Mr King, you are not banished from the kingdom you must go and live at the edge in a little hut. The prince and princess will come to your house on the last weekend of the month. The social witch frowned at the wizard. Oh alright! huffed the mighty wizard. And on Boxing day and for two weeks in the summer holidays.” Jake noticed a splash of water fall onto the page, quickly he looked up to the ceiling.
“I think you might have a leaky roof dad,” he searched the ceiling to see if he might see where the water was coming from.
“I think so,” said Mr Newford as he closed the book.
“Mum tells us that story all the time.” Jake yawned. “Won't you tell me the end?”
“Does she indeed?” said an astonished Mr Newford as he placed the book onto the bedside table.
“Yes the exact same one,” said Jake nodding his tired head. “And she never tells us the end.”
“Why not?” asked his dad as he crept out of the bed trying not to wake Jazzy.
“She says it is her magic book and anything could happen.” Jake yawned again and stretched. “And she never does that either.” Jake added pointing a weary finger over to the table.
“Does what?” asked his father still standing in the doorway.
“She never closes the book,” Jake reached over and switched off the lamp.