Heaven
Cinderel
adapted from an old fairy tale
by N Fourbois
Once upon a time there lived an impoverished baron. The hard times that had fallen upon him and his family were not just financial, for his once happy family had since the death of his first wife disintegrated into a state of dysfunctionality that made the Simpsons appear the height of normality. Baron Hardon of Hardon Hall had with his second marriage inherited not just two gay stepsons to add to his own gay son, but two flaming drama queens into the bargain, who simply made the lives of his own son Cinderel and the family retainer Buttons hell. Now that his second wife, after misusing the family wealth, spending it on herself and her two indulged sons, had run off with a dyke who worked at the local slaughter house, there was no one left now who could control the desires and behaviour of Tautology and Hyperbole. The Baron simply kept out of the way in case he should receive a tongue-lashing from them. Cinderel, instead of being the potential inheritor of the Hardon family residence and riches, had been reduced in status and fortune to something little better than an unpaid servant in the household with a
"Cinderel, clean my room!" from his stepbrother Tautology and a
"Cinderel, polish my shoes!" from Hyperbole, while a refusal would always be accompanied by the threat of a sudden wedgie or a sharp rebuke re-enforced with an equally sharp tweak between the legs.
For Cinderel the mornings were comparatively quiet providing he had a meal prepared for midday when the two drama queens would emerge from their night's slumber and, dressed in the latest designer gear, expect to be waited on hand and foot. Buttons had his duties to attend to outside and so had little time to help Cinderel, whom he adored with all his heart, and should he be foolish enough to fly to Cinderel's defence, he would receive the same cruel treatment as his master's son. The baron dared not interfere, for now that he no longer had any purse with strings to control he had no hold over his stepsons and their temper. From then until the evening Cinderel was at the beck and call of his ugly stepbrothers, until the time Buttons had to drive them in the pony and trap to Gloss or Hunters or The Gay Hussar or whichever gay club the inexorable pair were attending that evening. Once there they would seek out the ideal partner, but being so revolting by appearance and nature, would usually end up dancing with one another and return home in the early hours of the morning too drunk to gain any sexual gratification from themselves or each other and so were left with an increasing feeling of frustration which they would vent on Cinderel the very next day.
The evening was Cinderel's favourite time of day. He knew that for a few hours he was safe from the demands and cruelties of his ugly stepbrothers and he could relax among the cinders of the dying fire in the hearth enjoying the company and conversation of Buttons upon his return from town and after he had bedded down in the stable the worn out family horse. With Cinderel dressed in a pair of cotton knee breeches purchased long ago at the street market for shillings rather than pounds and now adorned with rips in both legs long before such tears were to become the height of fashion, and wearing also a ripped checked lumberjack's shirt they would seat themselves by the dying fire, drink a mug of thin gruel and put the troubles of the world to rights. If only they could do the same with their own.
"Buttons, why don't you simply leave and find another job?"
"How can I, Master Cinderel? My father served the baron and my grandfather served the family before him. And then there's you. If I were to go away, who would look after you? You'd be on your own."
"Oh, Buttons, I do so love you," and as they sat quietly there, arm in arm, Cinderel planted a kiss on Buttons' cheek. Finally it was time for them to part for the night, Buttons to his quarters in the stable and Cinderel to his draughty garret at the top of the backstairs of Hardon Hall where the cold wind whistled in winter and the heat stifled in summer. A quick hug and a peck on the cheek before they went their separate ways.
As the sun rose next morning, so did Cinderel. He tripped down the stairs from his garret bedroom and out into the yard to take his morning shower under the water pump and then returned upstairs to get dressed again in the ripped breeches and a torn undershirt. Then on with the chores: scrub out the scullery, clean the kitchen and clean and dust the rooms downstairs. Baron Hardon was in his study, hiding himself away in case he should come across his ghastly stepsons.
"Oh Cinderel, I wish I could do something to spare you all this misery, but those two boys treat me worse sometimes than they treat you."
"Daddy, don't you worry about me. I'm young and I'll survive. It's you I'm more worried about. Why did you marry that dreadful woman? With Buttons' help I could have looked after you in your old age and we would have been happy… and still have our fortune."
"I'm so sorry, son, but that woman deceived me and as you know Tautology and Hyperbole only appeared on the scene after we were married. I wanted to provide you with a brand new mother."
"Never mind, Daddy. We'll get through this somehow. Those oafs won't stay long if there's no money left."
"And that's what's vexing me this morning, dearest boy. All these bills and I don't know how to pay them. The grocer's going to cut us off at the end of the week if we don't pay. The milkman's already passing us by."
"That's what I came in for, to find out what you wanted for dinner, but I'll just have to see what's left in the pantry, Daddy, and do my best."
"I think I'll just have to tell them over dinner that there's no money left and that they'll have to go out and seek some work. I dread to think what a scene they'll make."
Cinderel went back to the kitchen and searched through the pantry to see what he could find for dinner. There was some stale bread from three days ago. He idly did his best to break it up into bread crumbs for it was nearing ten o'clock and he still hadn't gone out into the yard to feed the birds. That was one of the few pleasures left to him and the birds knew him to be kind and gentle and that he wouldn't harm them in the slightest so that they came and fed out of his hand. As he sat there thinking of his father's predicament the odd tear poured down his cheek from his deep blue eyes when suddenly a window on the first floor was thrown open and a voice yelled loud enough for the whole neighbourhood to hear
"Cinderel, get that tight little butt of yours up here straightaway, you ungrateful tart!" At the sound of it the birds immediately took flight. It was the high pitched scream of Tautology. 'My goodness,' thought Cinderel 'it's not midday already, is it? And not a potato peeled nor a pot boiled.' He scurried through the backdoor into the house and up the main stairs to Tautology's room. He knocked softly at the door and he heard the scream of 'Come in'. He timidly opened it and as he entered he tripped over a pumpkin that had been carelessly left by the door. Tautology roared with laughter. Cinderel picked himself and the pumpkin up and noticed that a hole about an inch across and six inches deep had been carved in it.
"What's this for, Tautology?" asked Cinderel, forgetting himself for a moment.
"What do you think it's for, you silly little girlie? It's for self-relief when you're desperate and boy, was I desperate last night? Why do you think they're called pumpkins? Because you pump your dick in there when you get bored with your own hand."
"Why? What happened last night?" enquired Cinderel, growing bolder by the minute.
"We were at Hunters and I met this gorgeous boy. We danced all night and when we were travelling back to his place in his coach I put my hand between his legs and found that he was a her. I was mortified. It was a transvestite woman. How could I not have noticed before? Anyway, I stopped the coach and ran and to comfort myself when I got home I used the pumpkin." Cinderel giggled to himself. "Anyway, why am I telling you all this? It's none of your business. Why aren't my clean clothes here? I distinctly remember telling you I wanted them."
"I'm sorry, Tautology. I clean forgot. I'll iron them now for you. And can I take the pumpkin down to the kitchen? We're so desperate for something to eat."
"Certainly not! It's the only thing available in this Godforsaken house, and get out of here before I use you instead of the pumpkin." Cinderel fled. He knew the only reason that prevented his ugly stepbrothers from abusing him was the fact that they could not admit that even in his rags he was far prettier than they could ever be with all their expensive designer clothes and the logic of that was that they had to consider him uglier, therefore beneath them and so untouchable.
When Cinderel arrived back in the kitchen, he found Buttons there waiting for his elevenses. Dressed in his old, threadbare, but otherwise smartly kept livery with two rows of shining silver buttons down the front of his tunic with more on his epaulettes and cuffs, Cinderel immediately wanted to hug him, but not while he was on duty.
"Buttons!" she cried when she saw him.
"Oh really? Sorry," he replied. "I must have forgotten," he said as he checked his trousers.
"No, you dear, dear wuzzock. I was only calling your name. Oh, my wretched stepbrothers. As well as cooking dinner I must now iron Tautology's clothes," he sighed as he poured out two mugs of hot thin gruel.
"Oh, poor Cinders, leave the ironing to me, while you cook dinner. But let's enjoy our gruel first. Come and sit by me in our little nook by the hearth."
Gruel finished and the mugs washed and tidied away Buttons got on with the ironing and Cinderel scraped together whatever he could find in the garden and the pantry to cook dinner. Suddenly the clock in the church tower struck twelve and on the last stroke the sound of heavy feet was to be heard on the main staircase. With great ado a loud Tautology made his entrance followed by a rather sorry looking Hyperbole who slumped into his seat at the kitchen table. Finally Baron Hardon appeared, a worried look on his face.
"What's for dinner, Cinders, you pathetic eunuch?" shouted Tautology, holding his knife and fork in a vicelike grip and thumping the ends up and down on the wooden tabletop. Now eunuch was one name you could not apply to Cinderel for when his ancient ancestor had been raised to the nobility centuries before it was not without reason that he had been given the title Baron Hardon, and this defining element had been inherited along with the title from father to son.
"You bitch," whimpered Hyperbole.
"You know I've got this terrible hangover."
"That's your fault, brother dear, for drinking so much last night."
"My fault, you cow? You were the one that dumped me, and for what? A gorgeous man with a hole between his legs. Huh! Get me an aspirin."
"Now, boys, calm down," said the baron ineffectively. Cinderel started to serve the meal.
"What's this muck supposed to be, Jamie Oliver?" shouted Tautology.
"I'm going to throw up," added Hyperbole elegantly without carrying out his threat.
"Stew," replied Cinderel.
"Where's the meat?" demanded Tautology.
"We haven't got any. We haven't any money left to pay for it."
"Money?" whimpered Hyperbole. "Of course we've got money. Stepdaddy's a baron."
"Barren more like it," quietly interjected Baron Hardon.
"Stew?" shouted Tautology, not interested in the conversation that was taking place. "How can it be stew without any meat?"
"It's vegetable stew," answered Cinderel quietly.
"We're not veggies!" shouted Tautology. "Get us some meat!"
"Well, boys, that's something I wanted to talk to you all about," interrupted the baron meekly.
"I WANT SOME MEAT!" yelled Tautology again without taking the slightest notice of his stepfather.
"There isn't any," retorted the baron, raising his voice slightly. "That's what I was going to say. The butcher won't supply us any more until all our bills are paid. Tautology and Hyperbole, you really must start living within our means. With your lifestyle you've spent the family fortune and we haven't got any more money. All three of you will have to get a job. I'll do my best to look after the house and Buttons, my dear chap, I'm going to have to release you at the end of the month." Buttons had just been sitting there quietly, getting on with his vegetable stew, but now his chin dropped and he looked as sad as Cinderel.
"A job?" whimpered Hyperbole.
"A job?" bawled Tautology. "What do you take us for? We're gentlemen of leisure, the stepsons of a nobleman. We don't work."
"Idle bastards." muttered Buttons under his breath,
"A job, Daddy? I think I'd rather like that," said Cinderel.
"You creep," shouted Tautology.
"Don't shout like that, Taut dear," pleaded Hyperbole. "It goes straight through my head."
At that the rage was interrupted by a knock at the backdoor. It was the messenger on his daily rounds.
"Two letters for Baron Hardon." Cinderel took them and gave them to his father. He took them and undid the first one.
"Oh dear, no," he sighed more to himself than the assembled company. "It's from PFLAG. They say that if I don't pay my subscription immediately, they'll throw me out. It's the one thing I need with you two… er, I mean you three."
"There you go again," whined Hyperbole. "You don't love us. You only love him." Hyperbole pointed jabbingly at Cinderel with just his forefinger while the thumb was raised, and Tautology stuck his tongue out at him. The second envelope was white and large, adorned with a golden crown and the letters OHMS. The baron carefully slit the envelope open, in case it was a tax demand, and began to read the first of three cards inside.
"'His Majesty the King cordially invites the Honourable Cinderel Hardon to a Ball to be held at the Palace and hosted by his eldest son Prince Charming' Oh, that's you, my dear."
Enraged Tautology immediately snatched the invitation cards out of his stepfather's hand. "Oh, there's one for me and one for you, Hyperbole. You won't be needing yours, Cinderel. After all, you've got nothing to wear and who's going to be interested in a little ragamuffin like you?" and out of spite he tore up Cinderel's invitation and threw the pieces onto the fire. But then something magical happened. Instead of being consumed by flames, the paltry heat caused the fragments to rise. They joined together and lodged themselves on a curtain rail way beyond the reach of anybody in the room, but nobody noticed because of the bitching that was going on.
"This means a new outfit," said Hyperbole momentarily forgetting his hangover.
"We'll go into town this afternoon and choose our outfits together," said Tautology. "That is if our dear stepfather's credit has not run out at the tailor's as well." Cinderel was doing his best to hold back the tears. "What does it say?"
"Doublet and hose. Carriages at 1 am," replied Hyperbole. The baron looked at his son with an expression of hopelessness and helplessness on his face.
A few months ago Prince Charming, the heir to the throne, had been outed by the town criers. In earlier times they would have been summarily tried and immediately beheaded, but after the barons had held the king's late father hostage, he capitulated and issued an Edict of Rights which among other things allowed free dissemination of information. The king had tried to have the town criers simply arrested, but their fellows collectively gave the royal house such a hard time with every little titbit of gossip and scandal that it became impossible to arrest all of them and he had to release those town criers held in his dungeons. Since then there had been a cooling off period, but it was widely known that the heir to the throne was looking for a life partner and that this was the purpose behind the forthcoming royal ball.
The day of the royal ball finally arrived and there was great excitement at Hardon Hall even though it was confined to just two of the residents. When Tautology and Hyperbole finally rose from their beds at midday after yet another night out on the town, there was a great deal of toing and froing between their bedrooms with whoops of delight and squeals of laughter as various tradesmen's boys turned up with boxes containing costumes, shoes, wigs and the latest manly perfumes, while the only gratuities they received was a gratuitous pinch on the bottom through their hose or a dubious compliment on their appearance. Baron Hardon, Cinderel and Buttons just went about their daily business trying to ignore the noise from upstairs. At least they had a quiet dinner as the stepsons were abstaining in order to get their figures into trim, not realising that it would take more than one missed meal to make their beer guts disappear. Later in the afternoon Cinderel was at their beck and call.
"Cinders!" cried Hyperbole. "Prepare my bath!"
"Cinders!" shouted Tautology. "Where are my underdrawers?"
"Set out on your bed."
"I can't wear those, you stupid boy. Everyone will see the panti-line under my hose."
"Cinderel!" shouted Hyperbole. "Come and lace up my corset." Even unlaced it was a struggle to get him into this figure-restricting garment, but without it he would never have fitted into his doublet after his vanity had demanded he should order a size smaller than was recommended. Even then Cinderel had to place his knee against his stepbrother's back to gain enough length on the laces to tie them into a bow.
By now it was six o'clock. Buttons had been ordered to depart at seven. He was to come back and then go and collect the ugly stepbrothers at one in the morning. At five to seven the pair emerged complete with war paint and dressed to kill. Cinderel shuddered as he wondered who had advised them on their apparel. Singly it might not have been so bad, but together it was the worst combination imaginable. It even dawned on Cinderel that the tailor, knowing their reputations and suspecting he might not be paid, had deliberately perpetrated this sartorial crime as a joke on them. Tautology was sporting a pair of bright lime green tights, destined to clash with the full blush pink of Hyperbole's. Admittedly since Prince Charming's outing pink and lavender had become the height of chic in the kingdom. The cosy fitting doublets were short and did nothing to hide the brothers' beer bellies and they certainly could not be buttoned up, but the coup de grâce was that they had been persuaded to wear cod pieces while everybody, just everybody, knew that they were so yesteryear. In the eyes of the fashion gurus you were expected to wear your hose on your own merits or to wear the full length doublet. These days Cinderel had little to laugh about, but he was finding it difficult to hold back a grin and a chuckle when he saw these abominations of humanity in their powdered wigs, made up with mascara and eye liner and a large beauty spot on their cheeks. They minced out of the front door of Hardon Hall, each clutching tightly onto his invitation card, screaming with laughter like the drama queens they were, feeling so terribly important, and boarded the family transport.
Cinderel felt a sense of relief when his stepbrothers had gone. He did the chores he had to do. The baron had long retired to his room, having no wish to attend the ball and be associated with his abominable stepsons. At last Cinderel could settle down in the ingle-nook by the hearth and await the return of Buttons. It was now that some disappointment and depression was setting in. He looked up at the curtain rail through his tears and for the first time saw his invitation to Prince Charming's ball, just where it had ended up when Tautology had tried to destroy it. He stood on a chair and fetched it down and while holding it in his hand he could feel one tear and then another and another rolling down his cheek. Just as he burst into a full fit of weeping the backdoor opened and in came Buttons in his threadbare, but well kept black uniform with all its silver buttons. He took Cinders in his arms and sat down beside him in the ingle-nook comforting him. He seemed inconsolable over the fact that Prince Charming was holding a ball, he had an invitation and wasn't able to go. Just as he was drying his tears the backdoor blew open. Cinderel was just about to get up to close it when an old tramp walked in.
"Good evening, young sir. Have you got a little space by your fire to warm an old man on a night such as this?" Perhaps it was the surprise, perhaps it was his inherent kind nature, but he simply replied
"Come in, old man. The fire is low and there's not much heat in it. It's all we can manage in these hard times, but come. Take my seat in the ingle-nook and warm yourself against the cold of the night. Have you eaten today?"
"That I have not, young sir."
"Then we have a little gruel left over and some stale bread. I am only sorry it is not more." Cinders went into the pantry to fetch the remains of the day's gruel and put it on the fire to warm through. Meanwhile Buttons had done his best to seat the old man comfortably in the warmest part of the kitchen. He had just joined Cinderel in the pantry when they saw a flash of lightning through the grilled window, followed by a clap of thunder.
"Strange," said Buttons. "When I returned from the royal palace the sky was absolutely clear. Not a hint of rain." They returned to the kitchen, gruel and bread in their hands, which they nearly dropped in amazement when they saw the old man no more. Instead an upright handsome man with grey flowing hair and beard stood there, wearing a golden robe.
"Cinderel, I am your godfather. I'm a fairy and I came to put you to the test. You took in a needy stranger, gave him warmth and shelter and offered him food and drink you could ill afford to give him. As a reward I will grant your wish and you shall go to the ball, Cinderel."
"But how, fairy godfather? For I have nothing to wear and no riches to justify my presence there."
"Have faith, my poor mistreated godson. The magic will take care of that, but first I require a little help. To begin with I need a pumpkin."
"I know where I can get hold of one," cried Cinderel and rushed up to Tautology's room. He had to search, but finally found what he was looking for hidden under the bed along with a number of unsavoury publications. By now the pumpkin was in a poor state and would not have lasted much longer, but it had to do. He took it back to his fairy godfather who placed it in the yard outside.
"Now, Cinderel, I must have six rats." Cinderel went to the humane rat trap and to his astonishment found six white rats dashing around inside. "And to complete the ensemble two toads." Cinderel went to a small boulder at the bottom of the garden, lifted it and found two toads crouching there which he brought back with him. "Come, Cinderel, come, Buttons. Stand together," and he drew a circle in the dirt around them and the assembled objects with his wand. As soon as the circle was closed there was a flash of light and as the smoke drifted away Cinderel stood there dressed in white hose and a short, scarlet doublet festooned with diamonds, covering a white frilly shirt designed by Lawrence Llewellyn-Bowen and finally a pair of the finest dancing shoes trimmed with ermine. He didn't need a powdered wig for his golden hair was perfectly coiffured with black highlights and brushed to flow away to the back and reveal his handsome open face. The pumpkin, rats and toads were no longer to be seen. In their place stood a coach of the latest model, drawn by six white horses with Buttons sitting in the driving seat. His moth eaten black uniform had been replaced by a resplendent one in white while the silver buttons had been transformed into gold. The equipage was completed by two footmen in full livery.
Cinderel was speechless. He was rooted to the spot.
"Come along, Cinderel," said his fairy godfather. "You shall go to the ball. Now climb aboard," and one of the footmen opened the carriage door. "One warning, Cinderel. The magic will only last until midnight. You must have left the royal palace by then for on the last stroke of twelve everything will turn back into what it was, a pumpkin, six rats and two toads." Buttons cracked the whip and the coach moved off with Cinderel waving goodbye to his fairy godfather.
Meanwhile at the royal palace the ball was in full swing. The king was sitting on his throne, accompanied by the queen, observing the jollities. Prince Charming had greeted his guests and they had paid their respects. The noblest in the land were present: dukes, earls, viscounts, barons, baronets and knights with their ladies and their offspring, dressed in the grandest finery, there to see and to be seen. It was a veritable marriage agency for the str8 nobility and a dating agency for the not so str8. Prince Charming was surrounded in the intervals by young aspiring gay nobility who fancied their chances of being elevated into royal circles. Even Tautology and Hyperbole were among them although their mother, the baroness Ms Janet Street-Walker, a commoner and none came commoner than her, had married late into the nobility and they were not of noble birth themselves. A scene threatened to develop when Hyperbole discovered a ladder in his brand new pink tights and had a tantrum. Tautology's wig kept slipping which rather killed the passion when it threatened to fall off altogether during the slow dance he was having with one of the royal pages.
The interval over the orchestra struck up a minuet. Prince Charming was frankly bored to tears although his devotion to royal duty did not permit him to show it, even in the slightest. He was dancing with a young earl who had recently inherited the title on the death of this father and who wanted everyone to know it. Dandini, the Prince's valet, confidant and childhood friend, waited tactfully at the edge of the dance floor until the final chords of the minuet had died away. He walked across the floor towards his royal master, and no one walked like Dandini, bowed and said
"Your highness, a word if I may." The prince marched really quickly off the floor followed by the faithful Dandini into a private side room.
"Thank God, Dandini. You have spared me. I don't know what has become of this kingdom. Where is the youthful talent? I have danced with sons and daughters who want one thing and one thing only – self-advancement. Not a hint of love, not even the desire for a quick jerk-off under the arbour in the palace garden."
"Sire, we have had a late arrival. Unless I am very much mistaken, I think you should meet the gentleman, the Honourable Chantal of Oblivia. That was the name on his invitation."
Prince Charming waited in the side room until his loyal valet summoned him. Cinderel was just being presented to the king and queen under the pseudonym when Dandini discreetly led Prince Charming towards the throne. He then retired to his side room again. As Cinderel aka Chantal bowed and retired, Dandini coughed to make his presence known.
"Sir, would you follow me, please. The prince desires to make your acquaintance." Dandini led Cinderel into the the side room where the prince was impatiently pacing up and down. Cinderel's heart was palpitating. He may have been nobly born, but he was no better than any of the king's poorer subjects who simply existed in the realm. As he entered the room, he bowed deeply.
"Sire?" Prince Charming raised him by the hand. Their eyes met and immediately each experienced a hormone storm. A kind of electricity passed between them even though it would be some years before electricity would be discovered. The prince led Cinderel out of the side room and onto the dance floor. They had eyes for nobody else that evening despite the informal queue that had built up to dance with the prince.
During the next interval, instead of attending the buffet, they walked in the quiet of the palace gardens. A full moon had risen, warm yellow in colour rather than cold blue, and they talked and talked. A clock struck eleven somewhere in the background, but Cinderel didn't even notice it. As the orchestra struck up again, this time with a waltz, Prince Charming led him back into the ballroom and the guests applauded as they entered, none more heartily, or creepily, than Tautology and Hyperbole for with all their preconceptions they failed to recognise their own stepbrother although his only disguise was the smart and tasteful clothes he had been denied at Hardon Hall. The dancing went on and time passed imperceptibly, imperceptibly to Cinderel who suddenly heard the first quarter of the chimes. He panicked, he stuttered, stammering
"I have to go."
"But no, stay, my darling Chantal." The clock struck the first of its twelve hours. Cinderel fled through the assembled crowd as the clock remorselessly continued to strike. By the eighth strike he had reached the huge courtyard where his coach was waiting with the resplendent Buttons in command of the the six white horses. In his haste he lost one of his ermine slippers. The Prince came out of the main door in pursuit. One of the footmen opened the carriage door as the clock struck its twelfth chime and suddenly there was nothing there. Buttons fell to the ground and was lifted up by an impoverished young man dressed in rags. All that could be heard was squeaking and croaking as six white rats and two toads made their escape. Buttons grabbed Cinders' hand after he'd tripped over a pumpkin while trying to make their escape. The prince stood out there in the courtyard with Dandini, failing to comprehend the scene he had just witnessed.
The next morning was as any other morning at Hardon Hall. Cinderel had risen with the sun to get on with the chores. Buttons was working in the stables, cleaning the trap and working out how he might avoid the ugly stepbrothers. He knew he was due for a hard time from them. After he had finally accompanied Cinderel back home on foot he then had to drive the family trap back to the palace to collect Tautology and Hyperbole, naturally arriving later than the appointed one o'clock. He hoped that after such a late night they might stay in bed that much longer, but in fact they were home at the same time as on a normal night. The baron had shut himself away in his room as was his wont. He had no idea about what had happened the evening before, nor even any desire to. Cinderel was finding it harder than ever to scrape enough food together from the pantry and the garden to prepare dinner. The old tramp had even deprived the birds of their daily crumbs of stale bread. He was beginning to think it would have been better if his fairy godfather had filled the pantry instead of letting him go to the ball. In fact he was wondering whether he had been to the ball at all or whether it had been a dream turned nightmare until he realised that Buttons must have had exactly the same dream.
Meanwhile the town criers in every corner of the kingdom were having a field day. On the street the news was being proclaimed that the prince's dancing partner had disappeared from the royal ball and that his heart was broken. Instead of elevenses Buttons took Cinderel out into the street to hear the news. They were the only two in the realm to know the truth, yet it was a secret they would keep to themselves. They returned to the kitchen of Hardon Hall and between them scraped together a meal. Buttons picked dandelion leaves as a basis to a salad while fortunately the chickens had laid two eggs. Over dinner Tautology and Hyperbole were full of themselves concerning what they had seen and done at the ball and were especially jealous about this 'young thing' who had so occupied the prince's time – a lush barely out of school, a gold-digger, a rentboy made good – all the vituperation, which to a psychologist would have just confirmed the deep down dissatisfaction these two misfits felt about themselves, came out. Yet amazingly neither had ended up with a partner and when that was mentioned it just led to a temper tantrum from Tautology.
"After all that I come home and what do I discover? The pumpkin has disappeared from under my bed. It was you, Cinderel, you and that Buttons, you ate it while I was at the ball! Admit it!"
"After your weenie has been polluting it?" protested Cinderel. "Huh, it wouldn't be fit to feed to the animals after that." Baron Hardon just sat by helplessly, listening and shaking his head. Tautology gave Cinderel a thunderous look.
The next day the town criers were still running the story on the street corners. No records of a Chantal of Oblivia existed; the prince was even more distraught and had gone into a decline; one clue remained; Chantal of Oblivia had left an ermine dancing slipper behind and the prince had sent his trusted valet on a tour of the realm to search for its match and owner.
Eventually the story died down and was replaced by the more familiar stories of who was going out with whom. The ball was no longer mentioned at Hardon Hall. However, the prince was still ailing and his health was giving cause for concern. Scraping a living and rescheduling debts were matters of greater importance and so it was with some surprise when a coach drew up in front of Hardon Hall and Dandini along with two palace under-secretaries strode up to the front door, one bearing an ermine dancing slipper on a velvet cushion. Buttons in his threadbare black livery opened the door and gasped when he saw Dandini. He had always been a secret admirer and now here he was unexpectedly face to face with the object of his admiration. His knees were giving way. Dandini asked to see the baron and was invited along with his retinue to wait in the drawing room. Meanwhile the ugly stepbrothers who had been observing what was going on from their first floor apartment dashed downstairs to make their presence felt in the kitchen. At Buttons' announcement the baron shuffled his way to the drawing room and greeted the palace officials.
Dandini announced the purpose of the visit to the surprise of the baron who never took any notice of what town criers shouted.
"The prince intends to invite the young man whose foot fits the slipper left behind after the ball to be his life partner. Your stepsons, Tautology and Hyperbole Street-Walker, attended the royal ball, I believe. I should like them to try on this slipper," said Dandini.
"You had better come into the kitchen and meet them," said the baron and as he opened the drawing room door Hyperbole nearly fell into the room where he had been earwigging at the keyhole while Tautology shrieked as he ran off to the kitchen. The gathering assembled there where Cinderel in his usual rags was attempting to get a dinner prepared.
"It's bound to fit me," squealed Tautology as he grabbed the slipper from the cushion held by a rather startled under-secretary, but his foot was so broad it couldn't even fit into it. "Huh!" he exclaimed, hands on hips.
"Give it here," shouted Hyperbole spitefully as he grabbed it. "You know my feet are much slimmer than yours." Cinderel just went on with preparing the meal. Hyperbole's toes did indeed fit into the slipper, but his foot was so long that it overlapped by at least two inches. "Ooh, you see. A perfect fit." The under-secretary took the slipper back, his face tacitly telling all. The second under-secretary said
"Baron, according to our records you have a son, Cinderel, who was invited to the ball, but apparently did not attend."
"Him?" screamed Hyperbole. "That little ragamuffin wasn't fit to attend any ball, let alone a royal ball."
"Still, our orders are that every noble and eligible bachelor in the kingdom is to try the slipper. Would you be kind enough to call him?"
"Cinders!" bawled Tautology. Cinderel came out of the scullery into the kitchen.
"You're wasting your time, you know," screamed Hyperbole. "Just look at him. As if he could go to the ball. It's a sick joke."
"I should still like him to try the slipper," insisted the under-secretary patiently. Cinderel sat down and removed his clog. The under-secretary placed the slipper on his foot. It was a fit, a perfect fit.
"Never in a thousand years," screamed Hyperbole.
"Give it here," yelled Tautology as he tried to force his foot into the slipper with no more success than before.
"So, Cinderel," said Dandini "or should I say Chantal of Oblivia?" At the mention of the second name the ugly stepbrothers paled and gasped, even the baron flinched.
"Impossible," said Hyperbole holding his fingers to his mouth. Tautology couldn't bring forth a single word, such was the force of his apoplectic seizure.
Amidst the confusion a bright light suddenly shone and when it faded Cinderel's fairy godfather stood there in his splendid golden cloak. The baron looked at the new arrival with amazement.
"Chantal? Can it really be you?" He ran and embraced him. "Good heavens, I thought you were dead," and they hugged again. "Cinderel, gentleman," said the baron "this is indeed Chantal, not of Oblivia, but of Hardon Hall, not forgotten, but presumed dead, for this is my younger brother I have missed for so many years."
"In one sense I did die. As a youth of fourteen years I was set upon and kidnapped by robbers while out on a family errand all those years ago and taken far, far away out of the land to be sold as a slave. After such misfortune I had comparative good fortune for I could easily have been sold to be castrated and forced to spend my life as a eunuch…" The stepbrothers squealed and tears came to their eyes. "… in the service of some eastern potentate, but as my master was a magician who had no children of his own he taught me the magician's craft. On his deathbed he made me a free man again and I was determined to regain my own country and return home. I had no way of warning my family of my arrival. Indeed I expected to be rejected as an impostor. I had hoped to see my mother and father again, our mother and father…" He looked at the baron. "… but I learnt they had died in their old age. My brother had married, lost his wife and remarried. In order to help I needed to be received into Hardon Hall again and on disguising myself as a tramp, which in a sense I really was, your kind son, my unknown nephew, in the midst of his own distress took in a cold, tired and hungry stranger and gave him sustenance he could ill afford. I'd done my research well and was able to exert my influence before my manifestation. None of you noticed the torn up invitation card reform and lodge itself on the curtain rail above your heads, except the name became altered."
"Welcome home, Chantal," exclaimed the baron. "You are to live here as long as you wish, or as long as you can bear."
The ugly stepbrothers were taking little of this in. Hyperbole had swooned and Tautology was trying to revive him, but the rest of the assembled company were in rapt attention to the old man's story.
"My dear brother, I accept your invitation, but before I do, I have certain duties to perform, not least of which is to ensure that our dear Prince Charming recovers immediately from his deep melancholy." He took out his wand and tapped Cinderel on the head. Before their very eyes he was transformed and wore the same apparel as he had done at the ball. Similarly Buttons' old black livery was changed into the white uniform with gold buttons. "Buttons, go to the stables and bring the trap round to the front door." Buttons disappeared out of the backdoor. Meanwhile Hyperbole and Tautology were back on their feet, but physically and psychologically too weak to offer any resistance to Chantal the fairy godfather. Chantal simply waved his wand towards them and they appeared in ragged clothes identical to those Cinderel had been forced to wear. "And now there remains just one thing more – to restore Hardon Hall to its former glory." A flash of light and when the smoke had cleared there was a roaring fire in the hearth, the pantry was stocked full and a key had appeared on the kitchen table. "Now, my dear, long lost brother, if you take that key to your room, you will find a safe in there and when you unlock it, you will find the family fortune restored."
The palace officials had been watching all this as amazed as the family and were brought back to reality when Chantal said
"Now, gentlemen, you have your royal duty to perform. If you look out into the front yard, you will see Buttons has drawn up the coach. I suggest you take Cinderel, once he has put on that splendid ermine slipper, post-haste to the palace and present him to your royal master." The officials and the family went out through the front door and were immediately taken back by the modern coach drawn by six white horses that was standing ready. The footman opened the door and Cinderel, followed by Dandini and the two under-secretaries climbed aboard. With a crack of the whip from Buttons the coach started off on its important journey.
Prince Charming was lying in his darkened room with a dampened cloth laid over his brow. His flunkies were buzzing around him like worker bees around the queen, but to no avail. His medical officer had just summoned leeches as a last ditch attempt to revive his royal master's interest in life. The prince was taking absolutely no interest in what was going on. In the distance a fanfare sounded, the pre-arranged signal to herald the successful return of his faithful valet Dandini, but the prince either didn't hear it or was so far ensconced in the black hole of his mind that he did not wish to hear it. The door to his boudoir was slung open and in stepped Dandini. With a flourish he bowed to his royal master who scarcely acknowledged his arrival. He peremptorily dismissed all the attendants, including the royal physician, slightly drew back the curtains in the room and knelt at the prince's bedside.
"Sire…" he whispered, "your royal highness… Prince Charming… Charming, my old friend and soul mate, I have someone I wish to present to you." The prince just stared at Dandini, his eyes vacant. Taking lack of refusal as assent, he rose to his feet and left the room. He whispered some instructions in Cinderel's ear which were not to be heard by any of the assembled palace staff. Dandini opened the door to his royal master's quarters and Cinderel made a few faltering steps towards it. Once he was inside, Dandini closed the door and stood guard. Buttons had been permitted to accompany Cinderel as far as this point. As Dandini stood on guard, dressed in ceremonial wig, a suit consisting of a tailed jacket and knee breeches, and white stockings, their eyes met. Buttons looked away; Dandini looked away. With so many of the staff there they could not exchange a single word. Buttons looked towards Dandini again; Dandini raise his eyes towards Buttons once more. Their eyes met and they suddenly looked away. Inside Dandini's head a battle was going on. His first concern should have been his royal master, but all he could think of was the handsome young man in the white livery with gold buttons. Whatever he did, he mustn't look, but when you mustn't that is the very thing you do. For a third time their eyes met. Dandini could feel his heart beating harder; Buttons felt his pulse beating faster. They did not break the gaze and as if by coincidence they simultaneously blew an almost imperceptible kiss to one another.
The door closed behind Cinderel. He gave a court bow towards the bed where the prince was lying, his eyes still closed. He had a deathly pallor about him.
"Your royal highness…" Cinderel started, but it had no effect. He thought back to that wonderful evening when they danced and talked together up to that fateful hour of midnight. He thought back to the kiss planted on his cheek by the prince and returned, the kiss upon his lips and returned. Royal protocol or no royal protocol, he could be sent to the Tower for all he cared. He could not stand by and watch his prince's life slowly slipping away. In a decisive moment he knelt by the bed and kissed the pallid cheek. The effect was immediate. The prince's eyes opened and they gazed at one another. The prince sat up, beckoned Cinderel, embraced him and planted a kiss on his lips. He felt the strength flowing back into the prince's body and so took his hand, helped him to rise from his bed and with halting steps led him to the door and out into the anteroom. Upon the prince's appearance hand in hand with his beloved Chantal/Cinderel, the staff and Buttons instantly cheered.
"Vivat, vivat! Long live Prince Charming!"
Dandini cleared the anteroom and ordered some sustenance to be sent to the Prince. Once it had arrived, Dandini closed the door and posted two guards outside, ordering them to allow no one to enter without his say so, apart from himself, not even the king or queen. The royal physician was to be on standby, although he probably now would not be required.
Inside the room the mood had brightened considerably. Cinderel encouraged the prince to take some food and watched his strength return. When a sparkle could be seen in his eyes, Cinderel kissed him tenderly on the cheek. The prince reacted by kissing him on the lips. One thing led to another and Cinderel first removed his scarlet doublet, then his shirt followed by the ermine slippers carefully placed together under the bed lest they should again become parted. The prince's night gown fell to the floor. The rest, as they say, is history.
The following morning the sun was streaming out of an azure sky through the windows of the prince's boudoir. The prince was the first to wake and a gentle kiss on Cinderel's lips was sufficient to bring him out of his slumber. Passion rose in both of them and had to be stilled before they could embark upon the day. Their love, physically exhausted, was emotionally still wanting. The prince climbed out of his bed, walked round to the other side, knelt at the bedside and taking Cinderel's hand, asked him whether he would consent to becoming his partner for life. Cinderel took no time in accepting Prince Charming into his life, a decision they sealed with a kiss. They lay together side by side in total bliss. It was only when they heard the palace clock strike twelve that Cinderel became visibly unsettled, that is until the last stroke of the hour had died away and he found himself still with his lover and his fine clothes still draped over a chair where they had remained all night. The prince tugged at the blue satin bell rope that would summon Dandini who appeared within the minute. The prince informed him of the intended commitment and asked him to bring it to the immediate notice of the king and queen prior to an audience. The valet brought fresh clothes for both of them and ordered hot water to be brought. When the couple finally emerged from the prince's quarters they were greeted with respect from the courtiers followed by cheers. They appeared before the king and queen who graciously consented to their eldest son and heir to the throne joining in conjugal partnership with the Honourable Cinderel of Hardon.
Within hours the town criers were calling out the news to the four corners of the kingdom. A day was appointed for the nuptials. There would be a civil act of partnership to be held at the Guildhall in the capital, followed by a blessing in the chapel of the royal palace. The king and queen regretted that they would be unable to attend the civil ceremony, but they would be present to witness God's blessing on the couple in the chapel and they would host a reception in the Great Banqueting Hall. They let it be known that after the act of commitment Cinderel would be known as His Royal Highness Duke Cinderel of Chantal and upon Prince Charming's eventual ascendancy to the throne His Royal Highness the King Consort.
This could so easily be the end of the story, but there are still certain ends which need to be tied up. At the prince's request to his royal parents Buttons was engaged in the royal household as Master of the Horse and was put in overall charge of the stables, which might in modern parlance be called the transport manager. It was within the week that Dandini proposed life partnership to him and received Buttons' consent and Prince Charming's assent. He immediately asked of the king and queen whether the act of commitment and the subsequent blessing might take place at the same time as his own and Cinderel's. The king and queen were happy to agree and as a gift to mark the occasion they would ennoble the grooms to Viscount Dandini and Viscount Buttons without realising the irony of conferring on them a hereditary peerage.
However, back at Hardon Hall life had to continue, but in a different vein. The baron, now supported by his newly returned brother, quickly regained strength of will and hope. He quickly paid off his debts and won back the goodwill of the tradesmen. But he had lost the two hardest workers in his household, gladly under the circumstances, it should be added, but the work still had to be done. Tautology and Hyperbole were trapped by their own ambitions. Now deprived of a ready supply of money they could have followed their mother who was still living, happily or otherwise, with the dyke from the slaughterhouse, but if they remained part of the Hardon household they now had entrée to the royal circle through their relationship by marriage. Indeed Baroness Ms Janet Street-Walker on hearing of the good fortune of her husband attempted to build bridges and return to the fold, but with his brother's backing the baron stood firm, refused to take her back and used his new relationship with the royal family to petition the king to annul his marriage. If the ugly stepbrothers were to remain part of his household they would have to pull their weight and assume the duties previously undertaken by Cinderel and Buttons. They had little choice and so their visits to Gloss or Hunters or The Gay Hussar were confined to weekends and then only when they had earnt enough money to finance them.
Eventually the joyous day of the Acts of Commitment arrived amidst sunshine and warmth. The whole kingdom was in festive mood on this public holiday apart from a demonstration outside the royal palace by members of the National Association for Homophobes (NAfH) which was quickly dispersed with a few swift arrests followed by a sojourn in the city's stocks. The Honourable Cinderel of Hardon left Hardon Hall accompanied by his father in the brand new coach drawn by six white steeds. On this occasion the baron had had to hire in help for Buttons was riding in another coach in the company of Chantal. The ugly stepbrothers had been allowed to stay overnight in the capital and ironically they had to turn up at the Acts of Commitment in the same outfits they had worn to the former royal ball, the ladder in Hyperbole's blush pink tights now mended. The Acts of Commitment ran smoothly and Prince Charming and the now Duke Cinderel of Chantal emerged arm in arm to a cheering crowd. They were followed by the Viscounts Dandini and Buttons. After a royal walkabout they climbed into the open royal coach which took them to the palace for the Blessing on their Commitments. Afterwards they were greeted by some hundreds of wedding guests at a reception in the royal ballroom, so reminiscent of the former occasion which could so easily have ended in disaster. At the appointed hour the two happy couples departed in different directions for their honeymoons and as the saying goes, they lived happily ever after.
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