Drip Dry by Ilsa Evans Page A

of the house. Oh god! This is just great.
    â€˜Um, I’d better go and see what’s wrong,’ I mutterrapidly as I put down my glass and abandon my guests in an attempt to head Keith off at the pass. I hurry through to the sliding doors but, just as I fling them open, Keith arrives at the other side. I am forced to flatten myself against the wall as he pushes past and, like a pink and fluffy version of the Pied Piper, a flood of frothy fairies follows in his footsteps.
    â€˜Outta my way.’ Keith and his elfin entourage continue towards the kitchen and he calls to me over his shoulder, ‘She’s been poked in the eye by a wand.’
    With extreme reluctance and a sense of foreboding clambering up my oesophagus, I join the end of the queue and shuffle forwards into the kitchen. By the time I arrive, Keith has deposited the damn fairy on the bench-top and taken in the three sitting at the kitchen table. His eyes flicker over each of them slowly and then return to Alex again as comprehension dawns. He looks narrowly at him and Alex looks narrowly back.
    â€˜Hello, Keith,’ says Samantha politely but with very little warmth.
    â€˜Samantha! Long time, no see. How’s life treating you?’
    â€˜Okay, I suppose. Usually.’
    â€˜Well! Let me have a look at this,’ I say loudly as I attempt to prise the fairy’s hands away from the offending eye. By this time the rest of the fairies have also crowded into the kitchen to see what sort of damage has been done. Apart from CJ, they all ignore the newest arrivals. She grins happily at Samantha, smiles cheerfully at Maggie, and then frowns at Alex while she puts two and two together.
    â€˜Is that your daddy, Sam?’
    â€˜Will Jaime lose her eye?’ An eager fairy elbows her way in next to me and her compatriots quickly follow suit, crowding around the bench and jostling each other in an effort to get closer.
    â€˜Is it bleeding?’
    â€˜I didn’t mean to!’
    â€˜Lemme see! Lemme see!’
    â€˜It got in the way!’
    Okay, this situation is totally out of control. Alex, Sam and Maggie are still looking stonily at Keith, who is looking stonily straight back. CJ is bouncing around like she is suffering from St Vitus dance, and the rest of the fairies are crowding so close to the counter in the hopes of seeing some blood that their injured companion is in imminent danger of toppling off. She, on the other hand, has not stopped her wailing since she was brought in. Nor will she remove her hands. I must do something .
    â€˜Jaime, calm down so that I can look at your eye. CJ, yes, that is Sam’s father and you’ll get to say hi later. For now, could you please take all your friends into the lounge-room and put on a video. And you can give them all their lolly bags because their mothers’ll be here shortly. At least, I sincerely hope so. Off you go. Now, Keith, I’d like you to meet Alex Brown, who is Sam and Ben’s father, and Maggie Brown, Alex’s sister. This is Keith McNeill, CJ’s father.’ I watch their reactions out of the corner of my eye while I continue my efforts to prise Jaime’s hands away from her eye. Thankfully, CJ has done what she was told for once and has removed the rest of thefairies from the vicinity. I can hear them squabbling happily in the lounge-room over which video to watch. In contrast the tableau in front of me remains immobile; nobody seems to be willing to make the first move. Just as I am worriedly beginning to think that my intervention will be necessary yet again, Maggie shows exactly what she is made of.
    â€˜Hmm, hello.’ She stops short of saying ‘pleased to meet you’ but extends her hand courteously in Keith’s direction. After a split second’s hesitation (he is not the type to shake female hands), he leans forwards to grasp it and they shake. Then Alex stands (probably because he has realised that he has a good