Hello again, fans, Grumpkin here – and, oh, my goodness, what a dreadful ending it was to the lovers’ reunion last night, wasn’t it!

What happened? Well, it seems that at the stroke of midnight – the very moment when Cindy was accepting Prince Frank’s proposal, and he was taking her diamond ring out of his pocket – the young girl was suddenly turned back into a white ermine moth. Looking up to find she had vanished, the prince thought she must have fled from the room overcome with emotion. With this he hurried out after her, then seeing that she was nowhere to be found he started fearing for her safety. As he ran out of the house to look for her, he was oblivious to the distraught Cindy flying along in his wake, desperate to get his attention. He had no way to know that by slamming the door behind him he had smashed her into the doorframe, all but killing her! It was only some time later, when somebody opened the door and she fell unnoticed to the floor, that Bertie the Bluebottle flew over to my place to ask me to get her out of harm’s way. And it was then, that horrified as I was to hear of her plight, I immediately rushed out to pick her up and bring her home.

Now as I write to you with this sad news, it’s around 5.30pm on the day after these events, and here I am in the wall of Swindlerella’s kitchen taking care of a small and very poorly white moth who may not make it through till nightfall. I can tell you fans, it sucks! But in spite of Cindy’s gloomy prognosis, I note that Bertie still hasn’t given up hopes of saving her life. In fact he seems quite excited about a new idea he’s had, though by this time I really think he’s clutching at straws.

‘You see, I’m guessing that when Grace tried to figure out how to make one day’zzz magic stretch to two, she made a basic miscalculation,’ he tells me in animated tones. ‘Simply put, it means that in the heat of the moment she divided twenty four hours by two and got six instead of twelve.’ Then seeing my puzzled expression, he goes on,

‘Consider this, Grumpkin: When Cindy the moth drank that leftover magic potion at precisely six o’clock yesterday, it was actually the third time that it turned someone into a princess, not the second. And then at precisely midnight it changed her back into the creature she had been six hours earlier – which, thanks to Swindlerella, was of course the same moth that we now have here.’

Despite his enthusiasm, however, the fly is still not getting through to me. ‘I’m sorry, Bertie, I’m not following you. What’s your point?’ I ask him impatiently.

‘My point, Grumpkin, is this: Grace’s magic couldn’t possibly have changed anyone into a princess for six hours on three different nights, unless its power could last for more than the number of dayzzz she intended. In other words, instead of dividing twenty four hours of magic into two twelve-hour periods on two consecutive days, she must have accidentally split the magic into four six-hour periods spread over four days. Well, we now know that only eighteen of those twenty four hours have been used up. So that means there are still another six hours of magic left for us to use tonight for Cindy, aren’t there! Get it now?’

‘Oh, yes, I suppose that does sound logical,’ I’m forced to agree.

‘Right, then. Well, I’ve just been back to see, and there is enough blue potion in that glass for one small moth to drink at 6pm tonight, so I really think we should go for it. The only question is, can we manage to keep Cindy alive till then?’

‘Wait a minute, not so fast!’ I say. ‘It’s all very well to change her back into a princess for six hours, but how’s that going to help her, Bertie? She’s at death’s door, and nothing we can say or do is going to change that. What difference can it possibly make whether she dies as a moth or a human being?’

‘It could make all the difference in the world if we could find some medicine that would help her,’ he says pointedly.

‘Some medicine? Do you really think we could find a treatment that could heal such serious injuries in just six hours?’ But by now I’m beginning to sense that my friend the fly has a real plan. ‘All right, Bertie, I can see you’re not ready to give up on her yet, so what do you want us to do?’

‘Well, the most important thing of course is to make sure Cindy stays alive till the right time cumzzz. Then a few minutes before the top of the hour I’ll buzzz you to tell you to take her into the living room, so she can be sure to drink the potion at exactly six o’clock. Once she’s done that, the magic should take care of the rest.’

I shoot an anxious glance at our poor moth. ‘That sounds simple enough, but it may be easier said than done. Just look at her, Bertie, she’s so weak! We’ll have to really hope and pray we can keep her going long enough for this plan of yours to work.’

‘Have some faith, Grumpkin, it’s all going to be fine,’ he answers confidently. ‘Now you keep your eye on the clock, and I’ll start counting down to the action.’

‘All right, I’ll stand by for further orders, then,’ I tell him.  And with that I raise my gaze to the kitchen clock, where I watch the seconds ticking away with agonising slowness…

Well, fans, it’s now five forty five – just three minutes later than when I last checked – and I’ve honestly never known time take so long to pass! Cindy’s growing feebler by the moment, and although there’s less than a quarter of an hour to go till her last dose of magic potion, I’m genuinely afraid she won’t survive for even another two minutes…

Right, I’ve just looked at the clock again, and now it’s five fifty three. Against all the odds Cindy is still with us, so to get through the remaining time I’m simply going to shut my eyes and count very slowly to a hundred.

… Ninety seven, ninety eight, ninety nine, a hundred! Well, at this point it’s three minutes to six, and I can hardly believe she’s hung on for this long! What’s more, at last I’m getting the buzz from Bertie, which means it’s finally time for me to carry her into the next room. This of course is the moment of truth… and I must confess to you fans, the prospect of it all going horribly wrong is making me very, very nervous.

Right, then – deep breath – wish me luck, everyone, here I go!

Well, you’ll be glad to know I’ve now got Cindy tucked safe in my arms, and here we are entering the living room where I can easily spot the glass of blue potion sitting on the coffee table. But the question is, how am I going to get her up there without dropping her? Okay, fans, I think I’m going to trust my many years of training in the circus for this one. Let’s see if a good sprint up to the table, followed by one of my spectacular triple-spinning jumps, will do the job…

And, YES! Done it! Now we’re on the table, and all I have to do is figure out how I’m going to get her into the glass so she can take some sips. I’ll just lift her up and see if I can get her to hold onto the rim… and – oh great, that’s worked perfectly! Right, now if I start gently pulling the glass down towards her, it should bring the blue potion right up to her tongue, or whatever that long thing is that she drinks with. Well, I’ve done that, but she’s not really responding, I’m afraid. And now, as an annoying buzzing sound approaches my ear, I’d say that here comes Bertie the Bluebottle to assess my progress.

‘Come on, come on, Grumpkin, we have just nineteen seconds till six o’clock, we really need to get a move on!’ he complains, as he flies round and round the table in frustrated figures of eight.

‘I am doing my best, Bertie, I just can’t get her to drink anything,’ I answer in tones of despair.

‘All right, don’t worry, leave this to me!’ he says. And then I watch with surprise, as diving head first into the glass he carefully uncoils Cindy’s tongue and immerses it into the potion to try and make her drink. But by now only nine seconds remain till the clock strikes six, and still nothing we do is working. Are all our efforts doomed to fail? Have we left it too late to save her?

Five, and now four seconds to go. Hey, did I imagine it, or did Cindy just twitch? Three, and now two seconds left. Then all of a sudden –

BAM!!

What in the world is happening? The empty glass rolls perilously across the table as its erstwhile occupant is abruptly cast out – and there, swaying on her feet from the shock, is our beloved Cindy! Again she finds herself transformed into a princess, the beautiful future bride of the king’s eldest son. Then as memories of the past come flooding back she is overwhelmed with sorrow and collapses with grief. I immediately rush to her side, but in vain I try to coax her up. Lost in pain she neither sees nor hears me, so that I really don’t know how to help her. But unfortunately none of that matters anymore, because I now realise we have a new problem…

The front door has just banged shut, and footsteps are coming this way!

Seeking cover, I scarper under the sofa while Bertie whizzes up to his lookout post on the lampshade. And as we wait with baited breath to see who it is, it isn’t long before we find out…

The door swings open and in tramps Dazey with a stack of Chinese takeaway food, which she is about to place on the coffee table when she suddenly notices Cindy on the floor. With a gasp of dismay, she throws down the food then stoops to examine the ailing teenager.

‘Hey, Mum, you’d better come quick!’ she yells, anxiously searching for Cindy’s pulse.

‘Just putting the kettle on, I’ll be there in a minute,’ her mother shouts from the kitchen.

Now Dulley comes in, curious to know what’s going on. But the sight of the unconscious girl pulls her up short, and she inhales sharply in response. ‘What on earth – ? Where did she come from? We’ve been looking everywhere for her!’ she cries, bending down for a closer look.

In the meantime Swindlerella enters the living room, and as she surveys the scene her face brightens noticeably. ‘My, my, what do we have here? Oh, what a shame, girls, it seems your stepsister is a little out of sorts. Well, what a piece of luck, I couldn’t have arranged things better myself!’ she says with a sinister laugh.

But Dulley scolds her. ‘It’s really serious, Mum, she’s hardly breathing!’

‘Hardly breathing, you say? Well, the news just gets better and better,’ she answers cheerily. Then as her two daughters turn surprised faces towards her, she goes on, ‘No need to panic, girls, everything’s under control, and so long as you do exactly what I say this will be all over by midnight. Right, then, let’s get started. Dulley, I want you to lie down next to Cindy and keep perfectly still.’

‘What?’

‘Come on, jump to it!’

So while Bertie and I look on, Dulley lies down and her mother chants some kind of spell over the prostrate pair. And next second –

POW! Suddenly Cindy is back in her old clothes and Dulley is dressed like a princess!

‘B-but I don’t understand, why have you done this?’ stammers the stupefied Dulley, rising shakily to her feet.

‘Well, well, you never were the sharpest pin in the box, were you?’ her mother responds, her voice laden with scorn. ‘I did it for you, of course, you ungrateful child -so you can marry Prince Frank. That is what you want, isn’t it?’

‘But, Mum, the prince is in love with Cindy, not me,’ she says in a voice that isn’t hers.

‘You stupid girl, do you not see what I’ve done? Surely you can tell that I haven’t just given you Cindy’s clothes? From now on, you ARE Cindy, and that half-dead creature by your feet is history! Now I want you to pick her up and get her out of here. Take her out of the room and dump her in the understairs cupboard. Go NOW!’

‘What… ?’

‘You heard me!’

‘But if she dies in there, it will be our fault and we could all go to prison,’ Dazey says tearfully.

‘I promise you, Dazey, nobody here is going to prison!’ comes the snappy answer. ‘Cindy only has six hours left in her human form, so by the time the clock strikes midnight she won’t be a dead girl any more, she’ll be a dead moth. And no one goes to prison for killing a moth, do they? Now do as I say, and get her out of here!’

So the trembling Dazey and Dulley do as they are told and carry Cindy out of the room. Bertie flies out after them and I follow discreetly behind, just in time to watch them drag her into the cupboard and slam the door. But hardly have they completed the wicked deed before another familiar sound is heard. It is the doorbell ringing, and Swindlerella’s impatience is rising by the second.

‘For goodness’ sake, hurry up, child!’ she roars at Dulley. ‘Look, your hair is all ruffled and your mask has slipped out of place – here, let me! Now, quick, go and open the door… and whatever you do, don’t forget to smile!’

‘But why, who is it?’ asks the youngster.

‘It’s Prince Frank, of course. I’ve put a spell on him, so he’s come back to the house to propose to you.’

‘To propose to me? But, Mum, the prince knows very well that I’m a cheat and a liar. How in the world is he ever going to ask me to marry him?

By now Swindlerella is at the end of her patience. ‘Oh, foolish girl, I see you haven’t understood a single word I’ve said!’ she exclaims. ‘Very well, then, it seems the moment has come to show you how strong my magic powers really are…’ And with this, snapping her fingers to freeze time for everyone else, she says: ‘Now open that cupboard door and tell me who you see inside.’

Then as the poor, confused youngster pulls it open, she lets out a shriek. For defying all belief, lying in an untidy heap on the floor she spies none other than her own lifeless body! But if Dulley is now in the cupboard, then who in heaven’s name is SHE… ?

Noting her bewilderment, the witch sweeps off her daughter’s mask and turns her to face the mirror. And as the teenager stares wide-eyed at Cindy’s countenance reflected back at her, Swindlerella proudly declares:

‘Congratulations, Princess! One month from now you will marry Prince Frank. Two years later he will become king, and shortly after that he will fall off his horse and die. When this happens, the people of the land will rise up and demand another ruler. And so it shall come to pass, that exactly four weeks after the king’s funeral, you will take his place on the throne.’ Then as the girl shudders with fright at the news, ‘Come now, child, take courage! There’s nothing to fear, you won’t go through this alone. I give you my word, Cindy – I’m going to be with you every step of the way!’

 

To be continued…