6 September, 2011 at 11:28 (Flash) (, , , , )

She cried, she knew she wasn’t being a good, brave girl, but she couldn’t help it, the tears just came. She sniffed, hard. Then she peered between the bannisters of the landing, that wasn’t anygood as the tears came again, harder, when she caught sight of the glint in Mary’s hand.

Mummy had given her the small tub of glitter that morning and she had put two small dabs of it on her cheeks. She had said it was fairy dust and it had made her smile, even though she had known really that it was just glitter and not really fairy-dust.

When Mary had seen the glitter on her cheeks she had wanted some as well and when she had got the tub out of her pocket to put it on Mary’s cheeks Mary’s eyes had glittered.
“Give it to me.” she had demanded.
“But it’s mine.”
“It’s my birthday.” Mary had said. “Give it to me.”

Then Mary had started crying, very, very loudly and the nursery nurse had come over to see what the matter was.
“It’s my birthday!” Mary had wailed first. “And she won’t give it me back.”

It was the word ‘back’ that had surprised her, and that meant that when the nursery nurse had told her to give the tub to Mary she had done so.
Now she sat upstairs and tried not to cry because she knew it wasn’t really her Mum’s fairydust and she did want to be a big, brave girl. She just couldn’t seem to stop.


Permalink Leave a Comment