I was tied to the stern of Viola’s small boat and was being dragged through the dark waters of the Bruce Tunnel at the end of a long rope
Viola was standing on the narrow deck shining a torch in my direction
I cannot see you in the wake of the boat keep still!
I am trying to keep still!
As we neared the Reading end of the tunnel I felt the waist cord of my swimming shorts snap
And slowly the current of my movement dragged them off
I was naked
Stop the boat I have lost my shorts!
No
The boat broke the entrance of the tunnel and soon everything was bathed in the strong light of the day
Viola stopped the boat and moored beneath a strange sycamore tree
Are you getting out?
No
Why not?
I have lost my shorts
That was careless
The waist cord snapped
Are you naked?
Obviously
If you do not get out of the canal then your antiquarian book will remain in its paper bag
Will you turn around?
No
Then I shall remain in the canal
Your antiquarian book will stay in its paper bag until you emerge from the murky waters that hide your nudity
I will see you naked
On the settee in our cottage
My antiquarian book remained still in the sunlight
Only its paper bag gathered the day dust
We were taking tea in the graveyard of the main church in Kintbury
I had chosen a slice of lime cake
Viola had chosen a slice of orange cake
You smell of the canal
I am the canal
It is a pleasant smell
You smell of a delicate perfume
I never wear perfumes
You have been away for such a long time
I have travelled far
Mrs Jane Sleeway emerged from the small kitchen next to the large shed
I was admiring the shed
I had always liked large wooden sheds
Slightly rotten in their years
You are my first customers today and it is already half past two
Are you usually busy on a Saturday afternoon?
I am sometimes run off of my feet
Mrs Jane Sleeway was a slight woman of about ninety summers
Her long grey hair was tied back with an agreeable ribbon
Lavender in colour
Do you mind if I join you as it is so quiet?
Please do
Are you married?
No
You make a lovely couple if you do not mind me saying so
Viola smiled
We are siblings
Viola is my older twin
You do not look alike
Do you know that I descended an evil staircase never to return and that Christ rescued me in my darkest hour?
Please continue
I was born a fairy not far from here on the edge of the village and for many years enjoyed an idyllic life and then the war came along
I volunteered but they would not accept fairies into any of the services
I had a stark choice either to become human and do my bit
Or to remain a fairy and watch as all the brave boys laid their lives down for this beautiful country
In 1943 I changed and this is when I met Cy
Your husband?
Such a good man
Do you live in the village?
Yes over there
I would like to meet your husband
You have already met him
In the village?
You are sitting on his grave
Viola blushed and stood up
There is no need to be alarmed my dear lots of people take tea sitting on his grave
I know that he enjoys their company
Although shielded by the church a train raced by in the hidden air and I listened as it motor faded into the distance
Cy was an engine driver for many years
On this line?
Yes I often waved at him as he raced through the station and he would sound the engine’s whistle in reply as he sped through the trout marshes towards Hungerford
Was your marriage happy?
Yes very happy
Do you have children?
No fairies cannot conceive our insides are different mostly dust I think
I was writing happy things one afternoon knowing that Cy would be returning at about eight
We were planning to share a drink at the inn near the station
I correct myself
I had already asked the landlord to have an ale ready for Cy as fairies cannot drink
It is something to do with our insides you know
Earlier that day I had purchased an antiquarian book from a passing peddler and it lay on our shared bed awaiting his return
But he did not return
He had died from a heart attack on the platform at Taunton Station a few hours earlier
I never finished my happy story
And do you know that his book still lies on our shared bed where I left it on that far off summer’s day
Poor Cy
Oh my poor Cy
Christ wanted him as a brother
So he just had to die
As we left the church a host of White Ladies floated towards us
Viola and I plucked a handful from the air and placed them in our linen bags
I was tied to the stern of Viola’s small boat and was being dragged through the waters of the Bruce Tunnel on the end of a long rope
Viola was standing on the narrow deck shining a torch in my direction
I cannot see you in the wake of the boat keep still
I am trying to keep still!
As we neared the Reading end of the tunnel I felt the waist cord of my swimming shorts snap
As slowly the current of my movement dragged them off
I was naked
Stop the boat I have lost my shorts
No
The boat broke the entrance of the tunnel and soon everything was bathed in the strong light of the day
Viola stopped the boat and moored beneath a strange sycamore tree
Are you getting out?
No
Why not?
I have lost my shorts
That was careless
The waist cord snapped
Are you naked?
Obviously
If you do not get out of the canal then your antiquarian book will remain in its paper bag
Will you turn around?
No
Well then I will remain in the canal
Then your antiquarian book will stay in its paper bag
I swam in the canal for the next few minutes
Watching the White Ladies floating on the hanging breeze
Viola had left the boat and was walking along the shaded canal bank picking flowers
I will be leaving soon so you better get out
As I swam towards the tunnel a White Lady pursed my lips and kissed me
I looked up and Viola had turned her back
She was holding a large bunch of flowers to her breast and was unaware of my movement
I climbed aboard the boat and dressed quickly
That was cheating you waited for a White Lady to appear and kissed it
I will see you naked before I leave
I have seen you naked
You have not
I cut the cord on your swim shorts last night while you were sleeping
Did you then
I pulled your sheets back and sketched you in the nude as you slept
The drawing is above my bunk
Yes I have seen it
You have a talent
I placed my hand on Viola’s shoulder and gently pushed her
It is starting you know
Your travel?
Yes I am beginning to travel once more
We sat quietly on the boat and watched as the White Ladies floated by
The day long was now drawing in and the sun was dipping below the branches of the strange sycamore tree
Viola was beginning to fade and soon I could not see her at all
She would travel far
I retired to my bunk and after washing found an antiquarian book hidden under my pillow
It was a book of poetry
Viola had inserted a lavender card between its pages
It read
I will see you naked you know
I will see you naked