{"id":889,"date":"2021-07-17T21:57:21","date_gmt":"2021-07-17T21:57:21","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/?p=889"},"modified":"2021-07-17T21:57:24","modified_gmt":"2021-07-17T21:57:24","slug":"the-allotment-fairy","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/the-allotment-fairy\/889\/","title":{"rendered":"The Allotment Fairy"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHe\u2019s at it again!\u201d Russ slammed the front door, trailing dirt through the hallway.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Barb sighed. She held a protective hand over the mirror on the wall until it stopped vibrating, and reminded Russ for the millionth time to remove his gardening boots in the porch.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But he was already stomping towards the kitchen. Barb followed and put the kettle on, waiting for both it and Russ to boil over. Meanwhile, she listened to the usual rant about how Ian at the allotment was jealous of Russ\u2019s prize vegetable patch, and was obviously tampering with it, because his tools kept moving and his marrows weren\u2019t growing at the expected rate. Yet Ian\u2019s patch was thriving.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

Finally, Russ stopped pacing and Barb handed him a steaming mug. Leaning against the work surface, he paused to take a sip. As he set the mug down, Barb watched the tea sway against the edges like dirty waves.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI miss dinner parties with Jane and Ian,\u201d she said. \u201cI do wish you\u2019d make friends.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Russ scoffed and clomped off upstairs, tea in hand and boots still on. Cringing, Barb pictured the dirt settling into the shag-pile.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh, Ian\u2019s the same,\u201d said Jane later. \u201cHe thinks Russ is meddling with his<\/em> patch. It\u2019s unbearable!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Barb\u2019s eyes sparkled. \u201cI have an idea\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The next evening, a cooler box full of beers in the space between them, Russ and Ian reclined on deckchairs, watching the sun sink into the sea. A stakeout at the allotments wasn\u2019t a bad idea, they had both agreed, especially when beer was mentioned. Each still suspected the other, but as darkness fell and the pile of empty bottles grew larger, their deckchairs shifted closer together, and monosyllabic grunts became sentences, eventually melting into laughter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In the small hours, something stirred behind the shed. They both jumped.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDid you hear that?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The rustling grew louder. A figure edged towards Russ\u2019s vegetable patch, glowing softly in the moonlight. Russ and Ian stared at one another, then down at their beer bottles, and back at the figure. Were they imagining things?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Russ\u2019s voice squeaked mouse-like in the darkness. \u201cWho are you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGood evening, gentlemen,\u201d sang the fairy. \u201cI\u2019m the allotment fairy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The men were stunned into silence, mouths agape.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI must confess to messing with your vegetables,\u201d she continued in a melodic lilt. \u201cI only come when the atmosphere is strained. However, things seem most amicable now. If the peace continues, I shall never return. I bid you goodnight, gentlemen!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And with that, she disappeared.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBest not mention this to the wives,\u201d Ian whispered, still shaking.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOur secret,\u201d croaked Russ. They chinked bottles.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Barb filled everyone\u2019s glasses. \u201cGreat to have you over again! I\u2019m so glad you two resolved your differences. Whatever happened that night?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cJust a bit of bonding over some beers,\u201d Russ winked at Ian.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The women smiled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Upstairs in Barb\u2019s wardrobe, peeking out from beneath a coat, the sequined edge of a fairy outfit twinkled in the evening light.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u201cHe\u2019s at it again!\u201d Russ slammed the front door, trailing dirt through the hallway. Barb sighed. She held a protective hand over the mirror on the wall until it stopped vibrating, and reminded Russ for the millionth time to remove his gardening boots in the porch. But he was already stomping towards the kitchen. Barb […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"rop_custom_images_group":[],"rop_custom_messages_group":[],"rop_publish_now":"initial","rop_publish_now_accounts":{"facebook_10158782359051062_103813597863211":"","twitter_1225722811282530305_1225722811282530305":""},"rop_publish_now_history":[],"rop_publish_now_status":"pending","_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"A great, new #flashfiction from #swanseawriters\n\n\"The Allotment Fairy\"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2},"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[379,502],"tags":[507,316,506],"class_list":["post-889","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-379","category-july-2021-the-secret","tag-allotments","tag-fairy","tag-the-allotment-fairy"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pbrNJE-el","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"post_mailing_queue_ids":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/889","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=889"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/889\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":891,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/889\/revisions\/891"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=889"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=889"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=889"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}