Tom Malcolm Wright

Jessica looked down at the water.

‘There’s a fish mummy!’

Mummy stopped rowing and let the boat glide to a stop. Jessica peered down beneath the silver sheen created by the sun on the top of the water, down into the brown depths, and at the shimmering scales of the fish as it slid past them.

‘Looks like a bream,’ said Mummy. ‘You can tell by how flat it looks.’

Jessica’s attention shifted and she looked out at the reeds and the glistening dragonflies darting between them. Beyond the reeds, was the grassy verge of Knaveslake, lined with picknickers and paddlers. Beyond the hill the houses shone with their solar panels and white painted walls. The domestic wind turbines in the allotments, gaily painted like maypoles, twisted lazily in the breeze.

‘Boat number five, come in please, your time is up,’ called the barker.

Mummy sighed and picked up the oars once more and began to pull for shore. Jessica dangled a hand in the water, feeling the cool of it on her skin.

It had been a great trip, Mummy was a good rower and they had done the whole of the Lake, round to meet the Ouse and then back on the far side, where Knaveswood stretched out towards Selby. She had seen frogs, and heron, and ducks and waterboatspeople and seven different kinds of trees, although Jessica still had problems telling a beech from a hornbeam.

Mummy was pulling up at the jetty by the red brick building which rented out the boats and sold frozen fruits beneath a very faded sign saying ‘Cricket Pavilion.’ Jessica waited to be lifted up on to the jetty and then said, ‘Mummy, can I go help Daddy with the strawberries?’ Mummy raised an eyebrow, in the full knowledge that carrying home the strawberries also meant eating half the strawberries, then shrugged. ‘Sure, why not.’

Jessica took off at a run, up the steps, listened and looked both ways for rickshaws and bicycles, headed across the road, and into the allotments. Immediately she was swallowed up by the shadow of the trees and bushes on either side, the air suddenly cool and green. She ran along the little track which would take her up a slight incline and then round to the left to their allotment which was pressed against the ancient red wall which marked the edge of their back garden, but then a sudden ‘Pssst’ stopped her in mid-run.

She turned to see another little girl staring at her from out of the bushes.

Jessica was confused by the little girl, since she had an older look to her face, a sort of knowing look like the girls at the top of the school had, the ones who were getting ready to go to secondary and knew all the secrets a big girl should know. But, at the same time, this girl was smaller than Jessica, both shorter and slenderer. She was wearing a dress made of leaves. It must have taken her a long time to make. Earlier that week it had taken Jessica half a day to make a daisy crown, and the leaf dress seemed much more complicated.

‘Hello, my name is Jessica.’

The little girl in the leaf dress raised an eyebrow in a similar way to how Mummy did when Jessica said something unexpected.

‘Well met, Jessica.’ Her voice was like the sparkle of a stream and the wet of fresh turned earth. ‘You can call me Bramble.’

‘Hello Bramble. Do you go to school here?’

‘No, I used to live here a long time ago, but then I left. And now I’m back.’

Jessica nodded. She’d had a friend who’d gone away to live far away and the idea that people went away to other places made sense to her. The idea that they might come back again was also quite reassuring.

‘My Daddy has strawberries. Would you like some?’

Bramble seemed to think about this for a long time. ‘I have had blueberries at the court of the Thorn King. I’ve had damsons in the bowers of the Queen of the Night. I’ve had gooseberries picked by the Duke of Spinners himself. And of course I have dined deeply on my own superb blackberries. . .’

Jessica’s eyes went wide; she did not understand any of this but it sounded very grand.

‘. . . but right now I could eat a strawberry or three. Just to see how they are.’

‘Okay, well, it’s this way.’

Jessica took off at a sprint again and stopped breathless a few paces in front of the little gate to their allotment. She looked around for Bramble and to her surprise the strange girl was already leaning on a water butte to the side of the path, looking completely unruffled.

‘Oh! You’re fast!’

‘I am. I am the fastest. I’ve outrun the water of a great fall, the howling wind of a storm, and even the warmth of a sunny day. I am the fastest there is, in all the Courts.’

‘Wow. I came sixth in the egg and spoon race.’

‘Well, if I’d raced against an egg and a spoon I would definitely have won. Unless they were enchanted but I’d call that cheating.’

Jessica stood still for a moment trying to understand that.

‘Anyway, I won this race, and someone mentioned strawberries. Strawberries might make a suitable prize.’

Jessica nodded and pushed open the gate to the little allotment, where Daddy was finishing watering the tomatoes with from the rain catcher. To the side of him was a basket of green beans (yuck) and a basket of strawberries (yum).

Jessica took a deep breath so she could use her special Daddy Please Voice and opened her eyes wide to do the special Daddy Please Eyes, which together had not once let her down. Apart from that one time with the pony, but she had got an iced treat instead, so she still counted that as a win.

‘Daddy, please can I have some strawberries for Bramble!’

Daddy straightened up, taking off his wide-brimmed hat and wiping sweat from his brow.

‘Hey Sweetpea, how was the lake?’

She told him quickly in a single breath, and a single sentence, albeit one with a lot of ‘ands’ in it.

‘. . . And then we had to come back and then I asked Mummy if I could come and help you with the strawberries and then I met this other little girl in a dress with made of leaves and she said she would like some strawberries so I said I would ask you and please can I have some strawberries for Bramble and maybe a strawberry or two for myself as well?’

Daddy’s brows knitted. ‘And where’s this Bramble now?’ 

‘She’s just out on the path by the water butte.’

Daddy stepped around Jessica and stuck his head out to look at the water butte and then came back and crouched down in front of Jessica, picked up the basket and handed it to her. He looked her right in the eyes which was always a sign he was about to say something Very Serious.

‘Be sure to give her the best strawberries first, before you have any. And don’t offer her anything else, or promise her anything else. And don’t take any gifts from her. If she offers you anything, you need you to say the following words okay? ‘Thank you for all you and your people give us. We honour and praise you, but you have already given us everything we need, and we have learnt to take no more than that.’ Say it back for me.

‘Thank you for all you and your people give us. We. . . honour and. . . praise you, but you have already given us everything we need, and we have learnt to take no more than that.’

‘This is really important. Do you understand?’

Jessica nodded vigorously.

‘It’s really important, Sweetpea.’

Jessica nodded so vigorously her got tousled in front of her face.

‘And once you’ve shared the strawberries come straight home.’

‘Okay Daddy!’ and she had grabbed the basket and was off before he could say another word.

When she got to the water butte she looked around and couldn’t see Bramble. Maybe she didn’t like other people’s grown-ups and had hidden from Daddy. The smell of strawberries wafted deep into her nose. She looked at the ones on the top of the basket. Deep red and juicy and delicious. Her mouth instantly filled with saliva. Before she knew it her hand was hovering over the strawberry. A long moment passed. But she had promised Daddy so she slowly lowered the hand.

As she looked up, she saw Bramble leaning against the water butte as if she had been patiently waiting there the whole time.

Jessica gave a little courtesy and offered the basket of strawberries to her. Bramble stretched out her long, delicate fingers and picked up the exact strawberry Jessica had been eyeing. Jessica’s heart sank a little, but Daddy had been very clear.

Bramble began to eat the strawberry very slowly, with small bites of her sharp little teeth. After each bite her eyes closed as she chewed and she gave little mumbles of pleasure.

Jessica’s arms were getting tired holding the basket but as soon as Bramble had finished the best strawberry she leaned forward and casually picked up the second-best strawberry and began eating again, in no greater rush than with the first.

Jessica’s arms had begun to shake a little bit by the time the second-best one was gone, but Bramble reached in and took the third-best and with relish and small, sharp bites, she began to eat it.

Finally, Bramble was done with the third-best and her fingers hovered over the basket, just as Jessica’s had done, and then lowered to her side. ‘Three is enough, thank you.’

‘You’re all done?’ asked Jessica.

Bramble nodded.

‘You sure?’

Bramble had not quite finished the second nod when Jessica scooped up the fourth, fifth and sixth-best strawberries and stuffed them in her mouth. She chewed merrily for a long moment until she could swallow them down. ‘Ahhh!’ she said.

Bramble smiled. ‘Those were delicious strawberries. I thank you, little girl, you have been most gracious.’

Jessica scowled for a moment at ‘little girl’; she was definitely taller than Bramble, but then she remembered Daddy’s words and gave a little bow.

‘I have to take the rest back to Mummy now.’

‘I’ll walk with you.’

And off they went.

The allotments had trees growing on them which grew together over the path and strained the light leaf-green. Jessica liked this bit of the allotment best. You couldn’t see a house or telephone line anywhere. Even the fences were so overgrown, you could be in the middle of a deep forest, miles from anywhere.

Butterflies flew down from a nearby buddleia; beautiful ones she didn’t know the names of, deep blues and purples and reds, shifting like light on a bubble. Some settled on Bramble’s shoulders like a cloak, and others on her head like a crown. Some more flapped around Jessica, tickling her nose till she giggled, and then landing on her summer dress.

‘Your strawberries, whilst not as good as damsons in the bowers of the Queen of the Night, were very nice indeed. Thank you, Jessica.’

‘S’alright.’

‘Would you like to hear a story, Jessica?’

‘Sure.’

‘Once upon a time, there was a Queen amongst the Faeries, a queen of bush and berry, her fruits delicious, and her thorns wickedly sharp. She, like all the Great Ones of the Folk, was beautiful and terrible. The Short-Lived Ones knew this of her. They knew to accept her gifts and fear her thorns, to treat her with respect, with reverence.’

‘Uh huh,’ Jessica didn’t know this particular story and was already a bit confused by it.

‘But then the Short-Lived Ones changed, as Short-Lived Ones do. Often an individual Short Lived One can stay pretty much the same their whole short life through, but then they die and the ones who come after sometimes forget what the last one knew and so quickly the Short-Lived Ones as a whole have changed. They would strip her bare, so no more fruit would come, or cut her back for roads to be built through her domain. And it was not just the Queen, though she was by far the most beautiful and the most terrible. All the Queens and Kings, Duchesses and Dukes, Baronesses and Barons, Countesses and Counts, even the common Sprites and Boggarts, all of the Folk, Great and Small, found themselves under constant attack from the greed, anger and foolishness of the Shot Lived Ones.’

Jessica nodded as if she was following, even though she wasn’t. They seemed to have been walking down the tree-shrouded path for much longer than it normally took. The trees were so thick above her that hardly any light came through, and the briars to the left and right were so thick she couldn’t see the allotment sheds and greenhouses. She doubted she would be able to see much at all, except the butterflies on her dress had begun to gently glow and shimmer. She watched the beautiful colours as they swam and shifted.

‘The Short-Lived Ones thought they had defeated the Folk, as if they were fighting a war that could possibly be won. Indeed, they thought they were fighting a war to time us and our bounties, but really, they were fighting a war with themselves, like a branch coming to life to cut down the trunk of its own tree.

But for us a season is barely an hour, a circuit of the sun a single day, the lifetime of a single Short Lived One the passing of a week. So, all we had to do was wait. We did not retreat, we merely slept, in our burrows and our bowers, less than a score of Shot Lived One’s lives.’

‘And when those Short-Lived Ones had wrought such destruction that the tree of the world looked like it might topple, we stirred from our slumber, awoke in our full majesty, and we came upon them in the storms which tore the rooves from their homes, in the floods which drowned their crops, in the beating sun which burnt and dried till all was thirst and sand. And still, they did not understand. We did not cause those things; that was all their own doing; we merely revelled in the return.’

Jessica realised that she had not really been listening to Bramble, which was rude, but the colours shimmering and shifting across her dress were so beautiful.

‘And there’s you, little Jessica. You have treated the Queen of Bush and Berry with respect, offering her the three best strawberries from your basket, even when your mouth watered at the smell of them. You would make a fine lady’s maid in my court, with your good manners and your pretty curls. Would you like that, little Jessica?’

Jessica murmered, and glanced up from the scintillating butterflies just for a moment. Had Bramble always been that tall, looking down at Jessica with a face beautiful but terrible? But then the butterflies shifted into the deepest most wonderful blue she had ever seen, and she giggled with delight.

‘I will offer you this gift, little Jessica, as befits the lady’s maid of a queen.’ And suddenly, in her hands, was the most beautiful coronet. It looked as if it was made of daisies but their stems where finely-wrought silver, their discs florets made of shining gold, and the white of each ray floret where shimmering diamonds. It was the most beautiful thing Jessica had ever seen. The butterflies seemed to dim, the daylight was gone now, and all was dark in the thick, enmeshed shade of the trees and briars. There was just Jessica, Bramble, and this most beautiful coronet. Jessica felt her hand reach up for it.

Then she remembered her Daddy’s words, and slowly, almost painfully, lowered her arm, and she forced herself to say, word by careful word, with lips that felt like stones; ‘Thank you for all you and your people give to us. We honour and praise you, but you have already given us everything we need, and we have learnt to take no more than that.’

As she said the final word Jessica blinked. The butterflies fluttered by, now looking more like Red Admirals. The sun drifted down through the gaps in the leaves, and she could see the style which led out of the allotments and on to the street. In the distance she heard a rickshaw bell ringing a gentle warning.

For a moment it looked as if Bramble was holding a daisy chain in her hands, but then it was gone. Jessica looked down at Bramble, this strange little grown-up girl, who had a look on her face which was difficult to read. ‘I’m sad not to have you as a lady’s maid, little Jessica, but I’m glad that your people have learnt from their losses. As long as you continue to honour me so, I will ensure your bushes are full of berries every Autumn. But I will warn you, my sisters and brothers, aunts and uncles and myriad cousins, may have longer memories than me. The trust of the Folk is not easily earnt.’

Jessica nodded politely. She was becoming very aware of the smell of the remaining strawberries in her basket.

‘I’d better go home now. It was nice to meet you, Bramble. I hope I see you again.’

At this Bramble smiled her strangely grown-up smile. ‘That is a wish I can gladly fulfil, little Jessica.’ And then she seemed to skip into a gap between the brambles and was gone. Jessica hadn’t known there was a path there and immediately tried to find it, but to her it seemed to just be thick and thorny bushes.

Jessica ran with the basket out on to the street and was surprised to see that the sun was low in the sky and thick, heavy grey clouds were pressing around it. It had gone from pleasantly warm to sticky and close in a few moments.

She ran home as fast as she could.

The shutters were already closed on the house, and the turbine on the roof lowered, as it always was before a storm. She went in through the outer door, putting her shoes carefully on the rack, and then through the inner door, into the cool of the well-insulated house. Mummy and Daddy were in the kitchen. Their voices were raised, and Mummy had just used a bad word.

‘-sake Toby, you let her go with one of the Folk? Do you even know what kind?’

‘Jessica said she was called Bramble. Sounded like Garden Folk.’

‘For all we know she could be Royalty. You know how dangerous they are.’

‘Exactly! Jessica had already offered this Bramble strawberries; think about what could have happened if I just whisked her away, leaving an angry member of the Folk outside out house, expecting tribute.’

‘Yes, but it’s been five hours. She might have –‘

Jessica came in and put the basket of strawberries on the counter. Her two parents went giddy with relief and swept her up in to a big hug. Argument temporarily forgotten, all was kisses, and concern and ‘Are you alright?’s.

Eventually, they put back down on her special chair and served the evening meal, and as ever her parents pointed at each little bowl of different vegetables and pulses and and sauces and told her who in the community had grown them and in which allotment, and what they were, and then they all sat in silence for a moment to say thanks to the people and the plants and the land that had grown their meal, then Jessica told them what had happened; that the nice girl had offered her a beautiful crown but she had remembered what Daddy said and she had repeated his words and then she told them what Bramble had said, as best as she could remember. Her parents relaxed even further, shoulders lowering, breath slowing.

They ate a pleasant meal in quiet.

Later, Mummy and Daddy both kissed her goodnight, and tucked up in her little room at the top of the house.

‘You did really well today, Jessica,’ said Mummy, hovering by the door for a moment.

‘Thanks Mummy,’ she said, still wondering what all the fuss was about; she’d just been polite like she’d been taught. Her mummy turned on the little ladybird nightlight and the room filled with a gentle warm glow. It reminded her of the butterflies.

Then the storm finally broke; it sounded muffled through the shutters and the double-glazed windows and the insulation panels between her and the roof tiles, but still she could hear wind and rain driving against the house. She quite liked the storms, at least, she did when she was snuggled up tight and warm and safe like this.

She strained to listen to the sound outside. In it she thought she heard something new, something she had never heard before. As the wind and rain drove against the roof tiles, she thought she heard the sound of voices, many voices, high and raucous, full of furious delight, whooping and squealing to one another, the storm full of them, alive with them.

As was the whole world, she realised.

And then she fell asleep, and dreamt of butterflies and crowns.