look away in embarrassment.
When his dreadful rendition of the tunes finished, there had been a deathly hush. Even the uncontrollable drunk at the next table was quietened. No one in the audience had ever heard such bad playing in public; the session had never seen anything like it. Generally thick-skinned, Dinnie had never before realised that such humiliation was possible.
Dinnie told Heather that there would not be a next time because he was never going to play the violin again, either in public or private. Furthermore, he would appreciate it if she would now find somewhere else to live and leave him alone. For the rest of his life.
When he tramped past a honey-roasted-peanut vendor's stall without even a hungry glance, Heather knew that
things were serious.
'Do not be so down-hearted,' she pleaded. 'Everyone has to start somewhere. I'm sorry I made you play before you were ready. I know it was a mistake. I understand that you are embarrassed. But all these good players were once beginners too. They know what it is like.'
'They didn't have a fairy blackmailing them into playing before they were ready and making a fool of themselves in public'
Heather had to admit that this was probably true.
'But I can make it up to you. I have the money for the rent.' She brought a bundle of tightly folded dollars out of her sporran and handed it to Dinnie.
He took it in silence. Even rescue from eviction could not cheer him up after his embarrassment.
'Where did you get this?' he asked, back in his room.
'Fairy magic,' lied Heather.
Dinnie switched on the TV.
'I'll lick your asshole and you can bang mine,' crooned a naked woman with long dark hair, kneeling over a couch.
'Only twelve dollars for three minutes.'
'I did not entirely understand that,' said Heather, trying to start a conversation. 'Is it connected with the nice, young, pink, warm, juicy pussies?'
Dinnie ignored her completely.
The Italian fairies made their way home.
'She handed him the stolen money.'
'What does it mean? Who is she?'
The Italian fairies did not know. They had heard rumours of some disturbance with the Chinese fairies who lived file:///Users/lisa/Downloads/Martin%20Millar%20-%20The%20Good%20Fairies%20of%20New%20York.html
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not far away, and wondered if it was something to do with them. It was a long time since there had been any
contact with them, but some distant suspicion, born of old, still lingered.
Whatever it meant, they were most unhappy that a strange fairy had boldly gone into an Italian bank, picked the lock of the vault and made off with a sporran full of money.
TEN
Kerry and Morag hunted the Lower East Side for the poppy with no success. After Cal's criminal act of removing it from her apartment then leaving it in the theatre, it had vanished.
Morag made efforts to lighten Kerry's mood by working out the guitar parts on 'Born to Lose', a Johnny Thunders classic, but neither Kerry's heart nor her fingers were in it. All she felt like doing was drinking beer.
Heather was most perturbed at Dinnie's refusal to play his fiddle. If she failed in her attempt to teach him, then Morag would subject her to terrible ridicule. Terrible ridicule from Morag was more than Heather could bear. She was already dreading that her rival might learn of the débâcle at the session.
'Why did I ever brag to that foul MacPherson that I would teach this useless lump to play? I was taken in by the beauty of his fiddle. It has the most exquisite tone, but I have staked my clan pride on an imbecile.'
'Come on Dinnie, practise.'
'No.'
'If you don't practise, Morag MacPherson will mock me and all the MacKintoshes,' cried the fairy in frustration.
'Aha!' said Dinnie. 'So that's why you're so keen for me to learn. I might have known you had an ulterior motive.
Well, I don't give a shit about the MacKintoshes, or the MacPhersons.'
Heather swallowed her outrage and spoke
When his dreadful rendition of the tunes finished, there had been a deathly hush. Even the uncontrollable drunk at the next table was quietened. No one in the audience had ever heard such bad playing in public; the session had never seen anything like it. Generally thick-skinned, Dinnie had never before realised that such humiliation was possible.
Dinnie told Heather that there would not be a next time because he was never going to play the violin again, either in public or private. Furthermore, he would appreciate it if she would now find somewhere else to live and leave him alone. For the rest of his life.
When he tramped past a honey-roasted-peanut vendor's stall without even a hungry glance, Heather knew that
things were serious.
'Do not be so down-hearted,' she pleaded. 'Everyone has to start somewhere. I'm sorry I made you play before you were ready. I know it was a mistake. I understand that you are embarrassed. But all these good players were once beginners too. They know what it is like.'
'They didn't have a fairy blackmailing them into playing before they were ready and making a fool of themselves in public'
Heather had to admit that this was probably true.
'But I can make it up to you. I have the money for the rent.' She brought a bundle of tightly folded dollars out of her sporran and handed it to Dinnie.
He took it in silence. Even rescue from eviction could not cheer him up after his embarrassment.
'Where did you get this?' he asked, back in his room.
'Fairy magic,' lied Heather.
Dinnie switched on the TV.
'I'll lick your asshole and you can bang mine,' crooned a naked woman with long dark hair, kneeling over a couch.
'Only twelve dollars for three minutes.'
'I did not entirely understand that,' said Heather, trying to start a conversation. 'Is it connected with the nice, young, pink, warm, juicy pussies?'
Dinnie ignored her completely.
The Italian fairies made their way home.
'She handed him the stolen money.'
'What does it mean? Who is she?'
The Italian fairies did not know. They had heard rumours of some disturbance with the Chinese fairies who lived file:///Users/lisa/Downloads/Martin%20Millar%20-%20The%20Good%20Fairies%20of%20New%20York.html
Page 25 of 99
Martin Millar - The Good Fairies of New York.html
6/5/11 2:11 PM
not far away, and wondered if it was something to do with them. It was a long time since there had been any
contact with them, but some distant suspicion, born of old, still lingered.
Whatever it meant, they were most unhappy that a strange fairy had boldly gone into an Italian bank, picked the lock of the vault and made off with a sporran full of money.
TEN
Kerry and Morag hunted the Lower East Side for the poppy with no success. After Cal's criminal act of removing it from her apartment then leaving it in the theatre, it had vanished.
Morag made efforts to lighten Kerry's mood by working out the guitar parts on 'Born to Lose', a Johnny Thunders classic, but neither Kerry's heart nor her fingers were in it. All she felt like doing was drinking beer.
Heather was most perturbed at Dinnie's refusal to play his fiddle. If she failed in her attempt to teach him, then Morag would subject her to terrible ridicule. Terrible ridicule from Morag was more than Heather could bear. She was already dreading that her rival might learn of the débâcle at the session.
'Why did I ever brag to that foul MacPherson that I would teach this useless lump to play? I was taken in by the beauty of his fiddle. It has the most exquisite tone, but I have staked my clan pride on an imbecile.'
'Come on Dinnie, practise.'
'No.'
'If you don't practise, Morag MacPherson will mock me and all the MacKintoshes,' cried the fairy in frustration.
'Aha!' said Dinnie. 'So that's why you're so keen for me to learn. I might have known you had an ulterior motive.
Well, I don't give a shit about the MacKintoshes, or the MacPhersons.'
Heather swallowed her outrage and spoke
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