Read by Jennifer Aries - podcast here (final story)
Even in a magic kingdom, pizza tasted the same as anywhere else. Maybe it was intentional – if something was bland then no-one would send it back saying they didn’t like it. Maybe that was the reason this fast-food place looked like any such place: the same bright lighting, the same plastic chairs, the same bored look on the staff’s faces. Same tasteless food. He reached for the menu, wondering if there was anything more interesting that he should have ordered.
“Paul? I’m talking?”
“Sorry, love.”
*
If they’d not paid so much for the holiday, Paul would have broken up with Tina before they went. The place was for children really, but Tina had wanted to go all her life – he couldn’t take that from her. And she’d said that the magic would be good for them. He had tried. Now he didn’t know what to do.
As they had queued in the Wardrobe Transit Terminal, Paul realised that not even Narnia could fix their relationship. They faced long lines at every checkpoint until they reached the wardrobe itself, now reinforced with steel and barely recognisable as a piece of furniture. They stepped through, two hours after their allotted time. The lamp post was on the other side – the same one that Lucy first found – but the wood around it had been chopped down to make way for the terminal. They ’d covered the floor with fake snow, which just looked depressing. He’d never been obsessed with the place like Tina, but he’d seen all the films, and Tina made him listen to audiobooks about it on long car journeys. He himself was disappointed, and she was working hard to persuade herself she loved it.
*
“You are enjoying this, aren’t you?” asked Tina.
“Sure.”
They could buy pizza at home and didn’t need to go to Cair Paravel for Starbucks. Craft stalls and souvenir shops were everywhere. When they toured the castle, Tina was moved to tears by the sight of Susan’s bow and arrows but was only allowed a moment before the guides were hurrying them along. Everything seemed to cost extra to do it properly. You’ve come this far already, are you really going to deny yourself a photo with a family of beavers? (But they couldn’t bring themselves to pay for one of the unicorn rides. The animals looked so unhappy in tack and bridles, their horns dull and faded).
“You’ve barely touched your pizza,” said Paul.
Tina picked up a slice and pushed it around the plate. “Maybe… Maybe we should get some more Turkish Delight.”
“I’m not sure that’s going to fix things,” said Paul.
Tina sighed. Sometimes this meant there was going to be an argument, but this time she just looked sad. A faun came round and asked if he could clear the table, and Paul asked for a little more time.
“I just … All I wanted in my life was a little magic.” said Tina. “But the talking animals look as miserable as people do back home. And I feel sorry for the unicorns.”
"’Not even a king would think of riding a unicorn,’” said Paul, “’Except in some great need.’"
He knew the old stories well enough that the quote came easily. Tina smiled, and for a moment he recalled when they first met, how they’d kissed for the first time under a lamp post in the park and how he was sure his life would change.
“We should rescue those unicorns,” said Paul.
Tina laughed at that. “And then what?”
“We could take them to Redhaven and free them there. And then… Maybe we could find passage on a boat to the Seven Isles and explore places that the books don’t even mention. Sure, we might get caught, but they’d only deport us.” Paul pushed aside the paper plate, which was shiny with pizza grease.
He thought of the flat, and how it reeked of cooking from the takeaway in the alley. Or his commute, scrunched up against other people. He didn’t want to go home – not when he could travel to Ettinsmoor to meet the giants or swim with merpeople in the Bight of Calormen.
“Not everywhere can be like this,” said Paul, looking around. A man argued at the tills with a bear, demanding his food be brought out sooner. Someone had squeezed ketchup onto a table and a nymph was trying to clean up. He looked at his plastic cup of weak beer. In another few years, Narnia would feel as mundane as anywhere else.
They cleared their table, dropping everything into the bins. Outside a talking badger stood at the roadside, trying to persuade people to pay for unicorn rides.
“Are you ready?” asked Tina.
“Yes,” said Paul. “Let’s steal a unicorn.”
(c) James Burt, 2022
James Burt lives in a small wooded valley by a stream where he writes strange stories. He keeps a weblog at orbific.com.
Jennifer Aries is represented by BWH & has been working professionally for 18 years, with TV credits in award winning shows on BBC, SKY & C4. Film includes: Last Letter From Your Lover (Augustine Frizzell), We Are Monster, (Netflix, Anthony Petrou), with The Group awaiting distribution. Theatre includes: The Witches (Wyndham’s), Flotsam (King’s Head), Free (Southwark Playhouse)
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