For part one, click here
For part two, click here
“Well, I was a dab hand at making models when I was a lad and remember when times were hard and I crafted all those toys for Colin? I’m sure I can handle a fairy,” Peter said, rubbing his hands together.
“She’s beautiful, absolutely beautiful,” Annie exclaimed, wiping a tear away a little later.
Peter hugged Annie to him. “She’s not bad if I say so myself. But as I said, times have changed. Children aren’t so easily convinced these days.”
Annie nodded. “At least your fairy stands a better chance of convincing her than mine.”
Peter laughed. “I have to agree. I’ll hang her up in one of the trees tomorrow morning and then we’ll just have to wait and see.”
Grace’s mouth gaped open as she pointed up to Peter’s fairy. Grandmother and granddaughter looked back to the house, faces beaming. Peter waved to them from the lounge window and gave a thumbs up, then disappeared, probably back to his paper.
“What’s wrong, Grace?” Annie asked, as Grace’s lip started to quiver.
“She isn’t a real fairy.”
Annie gulped. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
“I can see a bit of peg poking out. I thought she was real, but… but she’s not.”
Annie chewed her lip. What had she done? She’d made things worse than ever.
“Do you think Grandad made her? He’s very, very good at making things and she is very, very pretty, like a real fairy.”
Annie drew in a breath. “I rather think he did make her, Grace. I think he wanted you to have your fairy at the bottom of the garden.”
“But I will, Grandma. When Daddy was tucking me up in bed last night, he told me that if I believe hard enough, one day I’ll see a real fairy,” Grace said, tucking her hand into Annie’s. “So I’m going to believe and believe and believe. Then I’ll see a real fairy.”
Annie hugged Grace tightly and kissed the top of her head. A warmth suddenly spread through her and for a moment, she felt as if her mother was there with them. She smiled. “Perhaps one day, Grace, you just might.”