It was the second fairy Daniel had seen in his life.
He"d slipped out of the kitchen to snatch a few drags from a cigarette. He expected to hear Mr. Rimmer, the exploding head-chef, bawl out his name to get back to work at any moment. But he needed the break. A hot ache from chopping melon for fifty weakened his wrists. He needed the fresh air too, despite the cigarette. Temperatures in the kitchen always mounted as meal-time drew nearer and right now the room was one great oven, the movements of chefs and assistants frantic, the floor spattered with scraps and splashes of food.
He"d worked there for three months, his first proper job. In truth, it had been a disappointment. The giddy rush to become a grown-up was suddenly over and he found himself wondering, more and more, quite what
