“I think it was the soldier!” said Violet. “I’m sure it was the soldier, but why couldn’t you see him?”
“I could dance with him,” said her mother.
“Did you? Did you?”
“Till my shoes wore out.”
“And then when you came back,” prompted Violet, “where was the soldier? Still asleep in bed?”
“That’s right.”
“And his cloak hung over the end?”
“It was.”
“Wet around the hem, as if it had dangled in water?”
“Clever girl,” said Violet’s mother. “And it was the same the next night too, and that was the third night, and by then we knew each other very well, and he’d shown me the secret of the cloak that the old woman gave him for carrying the wood.”
“What secret?”
“When he took it off, there he was!”
“Yes?”
“And when he put it on, there he wasn’t!”
“A magic cloak, which made him invisible?”
“Well done!”
“But what happened with Grandfather in the morning?”
“Grandfather in the morning said, ‘Three nights running! And each night twelve pairs of satin shoes, worn to rags and holes!’
“ ‘Satin doesn’t wear well,’ said the soldier, grinning.
“ ‘Neither does my temper!’ your grandfather roared at him. ‘And now it’s off with your noddle!’
“ ‘It is not off with my noddle,’ said the soldier to your grandfather, ‘because I’ve found out what happens to them satin shoes!’ Then he took from his pocket a silver leaf and a golden flower and a twig all set with diamonds, and he told your grandfather the story I’ve just told you.”
“I bet he was surprised!” said Violet.
“He was so surprised he stopped roaring and raging, and he said, ‘Well, lad, choose your princess!’
“ ‘I already did,’ said the soldier.”
“And it was you?” asked Violet.
“And it was me.”
“And he was Father?”
“Yes he was.”
“And so then you lived happily ever after?”
“Happily,” said her mother, “but not ever after.”
Then, except for the thump of the iron and the rustle of the sheets, the kitchen was quiet for a while.
“Oh,” said Violet, and she gave a great sigh.
Her mother folded the last of the sheets. The cat rolled over in front of the fire. The Old King opened his eyes.
“I miss my old noddle-offer,” he murmured, and fell back asleep again.
“He’s a shocker,” said the Queen, Violet’s mother. “But we’ll not change him now. I’d best get back to the bedrooms.”
“Not yet! Not yet! Not yet!” cried Violet, running after her as she left the kitchen. “I need to ask you things.”
“You’d better come help with the beds, then!”
“Making beds is boring,” grumbled Violet. “I don’t know why we do it.”
“I told you, we’re saving up!”
“Should we sell the music boxes?”
“No, we shouldn’t.”
“Could we sell the noddle-offer?”
“No, we couldn’t.”
“Why not?”
“Well, for one thing,” said her mother, “I dropped it in the moat the day I met your father.”
“You should have dropped it before,” said Violet.
“I should, but I never thought of it, I was that busy running after my sisters.”
“What happened to them after the silver leaf and the golden flower and the twig all set with diamonds?”
“They vanished.”
“Where to?”
“Where do you think?”
“Back to their princes,” said Violet, “and the shining trees, and the little boats like seashells and the dancing in the castle.”
“I often think,” said her mother, “that they’ll be dancing barefoot by now.”
“They won’t care,” said Violet, kicking off her boots and twirling, barefoot herself, not helping at all. “Oh what lovely times you had! I wish that it were me! Why is the room with the twelve beds kept locked? What happened to Father’s magic cloak? Do you think we could fish the noddle-offer out of the moat?”
“Violet!”
“Just for fun!”
“Fun?!”
“I do get bored.”
Her mother had been sweeping dust into piles under the lodgers’ beds. Now she stopped and looked at Violet. She looked at her for a long time, very thoughtfully, and she said, “You’d like that cloak, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes I would!”
“You’d fish out the noddle-offer?”
“If I could.”
“You’d be onto that middle bed and off down the avenues and over the lake to that enchanted castle?”
“I’d LOVE to!” said Violet, still twirling.
“And lost like the others,” said her mother. “Well. It’s a good thing I saved up.”
Soon after this, things changed for Violet and her mother and grandfather, and even the cat. They exchanged the castle for a very small house in the city. Violet was sent to a school with navy blue uniforms, lots of homework, and hockey on Saturday mornings. There she learned to do a hundred things she’d always supposed girls couldn’t do, and her mother had always supposed they could, if only they had a chance. Once she got used to it, she enjoyed it very much and was never ever bored. The Old King, her grandfather, went to live in a home for tired old men, where he had porridge every morning and cake and ham at teatime and lots of things to grumble about and nurses to wipe his chin.
Violet used to visit him on Saturday afternoons.
“The cat is getting fatter and Mother is much happier,” said Violet, telling him the news. “She doesn’t have to work so hard now we haven’t any lodgers.”
“Did you off with their noddles?” asked her grandfather.
“No of course we didn’t!” said Violet.
“I’d have offed them,” said her grandfather, his voice quavering with sadness and regret. “I’d have offed them with my little noddle-offer.”
“I know you would,” said Violet, patting his trembling hands.
“I’m not paying for any more of them satin shoes, if that’s what you’ve come to ask for.”
“I haven’t come to ask for anything,” said Violet, all at once sorry for her wicked old grandfather, still worrying his ancient worries. “I don’t wear satin shoes. Me and my friends wear hockey boots.” And she stuck a foot out to show him.
“ ’Ockey!” he murmured, and dozed for a bit while Violet sat quietly, thinking.
“There wasn’t no ’ockey when I was King!” he said, suddenly awake again.
“Poor Grandfather,” said Violet. “Poor Old King!”
“Poor old king,” he agreed. “Poor old noddle-offer. Poor lost pretty maids all in a row.”
Violet nodded.
“Poor princes,” he said, and bowed his head.
“Yes,” said Violet gently. “Poor princes. But Grandfather, things were different in those days. And don’t forget,” she added, as she mopped his tumbling tears, “there was a lot more magic about!”