My stepfather was rich. Everyone in our town thought my mother had married him for his money, but it wasn’t so. They had a real love for each other.
Because my mother was sure my sister and I would marry noblemen or royalty we were taught no domestic skills. Instead she made sure we learnt to dance and paint, which we had no talent for. When we moved into his house we found that stepfather preferred a simple life. His only maid left in a bad temper when we arrived, I guess she was hoping he would leave her a sizeable legacy. Angelica and I had never done any housework in our lives but our stepfather’s kid was good at it. Mother tried to employ another maid but she wasn't trusted in the town. Within a few months the kid was doing all the work. I admit I felt sorry for her, but she was a cheerful sort and rarely got upset about doing everything around the house. Mother, Angelica and I came to rely on her more and more. Her father was too besotted with Mother to even notice what his daughter was doing. It was all a bit of a shame, but what could I do?
‘Come on, Emmalina!’ Mother called as I lingered at the cake shop. Not only was the baker’s son a tremendous cook he was also fun. I fancied him like mad. He wasn’t tall and even his mother wouldn’t call him handsome, but he had a joke with me when I called there. It wasn’t doing my waistline any good, but Johann didn’t seem to care. Recently Mother had realised what was going on. Johann wasn’t a nobleman, he definitely wasn’t a prince, so Mother tried her best to keep us apart. I was frustrated.
Mother was beside herself with excitement when a tasteful engraved card arrived.
‘You and your family are invited to a celebration ball at the palace on Saturday 21st February.’ She read. ‘In honour of Prince Tobias’ 21st birthday. Formal dress.’
‘I suppose it is going to cost me a fortune in fine clothes?’ my stepfather grumbled.
‘Oh, of course we must look our best. You know what this means, Honeybunch?’
Stepfather looked puzzled. Out of their sight Angelica mimed herself retching at the ridiculous nickname.
‘Prince Tobias will be searching for a bride. This is our chance. Angelica and Emmalina must have the finest outfits. One of them is going to marry the prince.’
I was all for fine outfits but I had heard enough about the prince to know he wasn’t going to marry one of us. He would be going straight after some bimbo with a thin waist, big boobs and a pretty face. The kid would have been right up his street, she was growing up to be a pretty little thing. I am sure Mother realised this too since she declared that there would be no room in our carriage for the kid.
As we prepared for the ball the kid did her best to be helpful, but I could tell her heart wasn’t in it. She was spending more time in the stables with her animals than she was in the house with us and her father.
The big day arrived. Mother had ordered gowns which were encrusted with precious stones and goldwork. After the kid had finished dressing me I looked in the mirror. I looked ridiculous, like a fat Christmas Tree. At last the kid got us all into our carriage safely and retired to the stables. As our newly re-furbished carriage drew away I saw something flash from that direction, but ignored it.
The ball was everything I thought it would be. Grand, magnificent and incredibly boring. Mother pushed us towards all the nobles, who ignored us with disdain. To be fair, we weren’t the only ones this was happening to. Most of the young women ended up with me at the buffet table. The prince was dancing up close to a typical bimbo type. Blonde, perfect figure and a beautiful outfit. Her jewels outshone mine, but were more tasteful. I helped myself to a gold-wrapped chocolate ball, trying not to upset the pyramid it was part of.
‘Hello, darlin’’ It was Johann; things were looking up. He chatted to me for most of the evening. When he wasn't bringing out more and more cakes to comfort the disappointed suitors. Across the room I saw Angelica chatting to a palace guard.
By half past eleven the girls were drifting away, stuffed. Johann winked at me.
‘Do you want to see what I’ve got in the kitchen?’ He lifted an eyebrow suggestively. I giggled and followed him. For once Mother was nowhere in sight. When we heard the prince’s shout Johann had managed to get a hand under my skirt, and was trying for more. I wasn’t objecting, it was my stupid gown that was the problem.
‘We don’t want to get caught in here.’ Johann said. I straightened my dress and we rushed out to see what was causing all the excitement.
The place was in uproar. The prince had one shoe in his hand – a ladies shoe. He had his people summon guest’s carriages. Ten minutes later we were on our way home.
Mother was in a bad temper because we had not caught the prince’s eye. Apparently he had only danced with one girl all night. Everybody else in the carriage kept quiet. Anything we said to Mother was likely to start her rant all over again, and we all knew it.
We drove home along dark and gloomy lanes. At one point I thought I saw the kid walking along with a shoe in one hand but I dismissed the thought. It was difficult to be sure. Still worried about angering Mother we all rushed to our bedrooms without a word. I slept dreaming happily about Johann.
In the morning Stepfather was a little the worse for wear. Mother was still on her high-horse about the prince’s behaviour. Even the kid wasn’t her usual self. She seemed almost sullen as she served breakfast.
A bugle sounded outside. Stepfather cursed.
‘Who’s making that d*!med noise at this time of the morning.’
It wasn’t usual for my stepfather to swear, but a bugle sound on top of a hangover must have been painful.
Mother was craning out of the window.
‘It’s the prince’s carriage!’ she shouted.
‘It’s Rodrik’ Angelica told me, keeping her voice quiet. A look out the window showed me that Rodrik was the soldier she’d been eyeing up at the ball.
‘Whoever this shoe fits, the prince will marry’ Rodrik called out officiously.
‘Isn’t he gorgeous?’ Angelica muttered beside me. Keeping her voice too low for Mother to hear.
I wouldn’t have called him gorgeous. He was very ordinary looking, but I was too polite to say anything.
Mum picked up a kitchen stool and pushed us outside. Rodrik came up with a rather pretty shoe on an ornate cushion. He got no further than lifting it close to my foot. I have large feet, the shoe was tiny.
‘I’m afraid it’s not you.’
We shuffled round and Angelica took my place.
Rodrik smiled as he took her foot.
‘Nor you. Are there any other ladies in the house’ he called out.
The kid stood in the doorway, looking nervous.
Rodrik looked at her rags, but did as he had been ordered and put the shoe next to her foot. This was when I first believed in magic. It had been Cinderella walking home from the ball last night, and the light I had seen as we left had been a flash of magic. As Rodrik put it on her, the kid smiled.
The prince was waiting in his carriage. He was not going to soil his feet on a humble driveway. He changed his mind when Rodrik gave a thumbs-up signal. Prince Tobias ran to the kid, who gave him a shy smile.
‘My one true love’ he announced with a joyful voice, putting his arms around her. The kiss seemed to last forever, none of us knew where to look.
Rodrik stood behind Angelica and put his podgy arms around her.
‘I was so worried it might be you.’
She turned her head.
‘Why?’
‘Because I want to marry you myself.’
This all happened two months ago. Already the kid … sorry, I should say Princess Cinderella is expecting. Rodrik and Angelica’s wedding followed a week later. Johann and I are leaving it until June. June weddings seem so much more romantic.
A ghost writer has approached Stepfather, wanting to write our story. I don’t find this encouraging. Angelica and I are just as much in love with our partners as Cinderella and her prince. I bet the two ‘beautiful people’ get all the attention and the rest of us will be ignored. I hope I’m wrong.
Cinderella’s father has been approached by a ghost writer who wants to tell the story. I bet you anything his story will concentrate on the beautiful princess and her prince rather than us, the less-than-beautiful people in the story. It doesn’t seem fair. Angelica and I love our partners just as much as Cinderella does, if not more. I may be wrong.
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