Ceinwen Langley - Almost Midnight: Three Classic Fairytales

Copyright Ceinwen Langley 2016

www.ceinwenlangley.com

Illustrations by Ben Sigas

www.bendrawslife.tumblr.com

ISBN # 978-0-9924740-2-7

Cover design and interior formatting by ebooklaunch.com

All rights reserved.

First published in 2016 by

Feed the Writer Press.

For John and Tracey,

my fairy godparents.

Table of Contents

O nce upon a time, on the outskirts of the winter city, there lived a little girl named Ella. She did not live a luxurious life, or even a particularly comfortable one, for Ella and her parents were poor.

They earned their meagre living in the barren woods outside the city, gathering fallen sticks and twigs and selling them for kindling at market. They made enough from this to rent a small room with a fireplace, and every week to buy a little flour and yeast and butter and cheese. Every night, when Ella and her parents returned from a long day in the woods or at the market, they would gather together in front of their small fire and eat and gossip and talk of the future.

One day, our lives will change, her father said. Soon I might be able to afford an axe, and then I will cut and sell firewood, which is worth more than kindling. Or I might apprentice to a woodcutter or to a builder. Then we could have a house and food and new clothes.

Our lives are fine, her mother replied. We have a home and food and clothes already. It could be worse, my dear Felix.

Right you are, my darling Marie, he said quickly, putting his arms around his wife and his daughter. But it could also be just a little bit better, he whispered loudly to Ella, making them all laugh. Later, when the embers ebbed low, they all three slept together beneath one threadbare blanket, never minding the cinders and soot that marked their skin.

But though Ella loved her parents very much and did not mind working hard nor waking up with ash in her raven hair, she couldnt help but wish her fathers words would come true. Day after day, she watched from their spot in the marketplace as other little girls wore warm shoes and smart dresses and clutched teddy bears tight to their chests.

I wish I could wear such a pretty dress and shoes, she told her mother. And travel in a carriage and have servants to work for me and money to spend on whatever I like.

Oh, Ella, her mother said, disappointed. You have a dress already to keep you warm and shoes to keep your feet dry and money enough to keep you fed. You mustnt forget the blessings already bestowed on you by wishing for something more. Our lives could be so very much worse.

Ella looked down at her tattered brown dress and thin shoes, sewn by her mother in the dim light of the fire. She thought of the children who sat around the edges of the marketplace, begging for coins and scraps. Guilt gnawed at her stomach and burned behind her eyes, for they were not so lucky to have a mother and father to look after them, or a fire to sleep by, or food to nourish them, or a roof to keep them safe and dry.

Im sorry, Mama.

Her mother stooped and gathered Ella into her arms. No, my little Ella, Im sorry. I did not mean to upset you. But we are what we are, and I dont want you to waste your life hoping for something that cannot be.

But Papa does, Ella said. He wishes for an axe.

And every day he is disappointed. Do you see?

And though Ella did not quite understand, she nodded. From that day on she tried her very best to ignore the girls in their pretty dresses and easy lives and concentrated on helping her parents gather and sell the kindling that kept them fed and clothed and housed.

Many years later, when Ella was twelve years old, a knock came at the door of their little room. A fine-looking man in a feathered hat stood on the other side, a faint curl on his lips and a message in his hand.

Is this the home of Felix, grandson of Felix? he asked.

It is, Ellas mother said, though he is out buying flour. I am his wife.

Then I will leave this in your care, the man said, handing her a square of thick paper stamped shut with a silver seal. He bowed and straightened his hat and was gone.

What is it, Mama? Ella asked, eyeing the silver seal. It almost glittered in the waning daylight.

We shall have to see.

But who would send Papa such a beautiful-looking letter? Who could afford to send such a man? What could it say?

Ellas mother returned to sweeping away the soot that clung to every corner of the room. We shall have to see, Ella.

But Mama, arent you curious at all?

No, her mother said. We will find out as soon as your father returns. Whats the use in wondering?

But Ella couldnt help wondering. Her mind ran wild, imagining what such a letter could say. Maybe the king and queen had heard of the quality of their kindling all the way from the summer city and were hiring them as the royal kindling suppliers. Or maybe a great and charitable lord or lady had seen how hard Ella worked in the market and were sponsoring her to go to school. Or maybe

You must learn to be more patient, Ella, laughed her mother as Ella fidgeted excitedly beside the fire. The letter may say nothing at all.

But at that moment the door opened and Ella was spared from taking her mothers advice.

Papa! Ella thrust the note at him before he even had a chance to put down the sack of flour. You have a letter! Look at the seal! Look at the handwriting! Isnt it beautiful?

Ellas father looked at the elegant handwriting with bemusement, his fingers leaving dirty spots on the paper. I dont recognise it, he said.

Open it and see! Ella urged. It could be something wonderful!

Ellas father broke the seal, sending the silver wax crumbling to the floor.

It is from my great-uncle, he said after some time, for reading was not something he had to do often. My grandfathers brother.

I didnt know you had a great-uncle, Papa.

Her father shrugged. Nor did I.

What does he say? Ellas mother asked.

He is dying, her father said, squinting at the page for some time. And then his eyes went large and round, and he had to put the message down.

What? Ella asked.

He has a great fortune and no children, he said at last, when his voice and senses had returned to him. He wants to leave us everything. His house in the countryside, his land, his servants, his money. All of it.

The little family stared at each other with hearts and minds racing. Neither Ella nor her father would remember who cheered first, but the other joined in and soon they were laughing and dancing around the room.

No more gathering kindling, cried Ellas father.

No more sleeping on the floor, cried Ella.

They stopped and looked at Ellas mother expectantly, for she had remained still in stunned silence.

No more sweeping, she conceded with a smile and joined hands with her husband and their daughter.

They danced until they collapsed in a laughing heap in front of their small fire.

For the last time, Ellas father said with a wide smile. Tomorrow, our lives will change.

The next morning, at first light, they packed up their few belongings and, using every last coin they had to hire a horse and cart and driver, set off with a song on their lips and joy in their hearts.

For three days they travelled, the bleak woodland surrounding the winter city giving way to green hills and babbling brooks and wild bursts of flowers. Ella fell instantly in love with the countryside, drinking in the open air and letting her eyes wander the wide horizon.

Look there, Ella, her father said, pointing to the silhouette of a city in the distance. Thats the summer city, where the king and queen and all their court live.