My Little Pixie

Introduction - Slices of Gherkin [Pickles]

This novel is precisely that - a novel. It is a work of rather dark fantasy. I am aware that many of the actions described here constitute assault and sexual assault. If that is not your cup of tea, then I suggest you find a gentler book. I have a number that I can offer on my home page.

Down on the coast, about twenty miles south of my estate, there is a rather fine hotel called 'The Redoubtable'. The food is excellent, the wine even better and the location, with its view out over the ever-changing English Channel, beyond compare.

But the facility I most value is a series of conference rooms where they pride themselves on guaranteeing absolute privacy. This includes a couple with balconies which are ideal for informal discussions which are occasionally necessary for developing relationships in my line of work.

I liked it so much that, after my first couple of visits, I bought the place.

And I take pains to ensure that the management of the establishment remains completely unaware of the less legitimate aspects of my operations.

I had invited a couple of potentially significant business associates to join me there for lunch followed by extended negotiations. The meal and discussions had both been more than satisfactory and the only slight hitch had been that their limousine had failed to appear on schedule. I had to instruct my driver to take them to the airport.

So, unusually, I had company on the way back home.

It was a warm and sunny spring bank holiday which meant that the roads back from the coast were exceptionally congested. My companions were in danger of missing the last flight back to Berlin and, consequently, the atmosphere in the limousine was becoming distinctly fraught

Then I noticed that something was being thrown at us.

For a moment, I was concerned that this could be a security issue but I exchanged a glance with my driver, who also functions as a bodyguard, and we wordlessly agreed that there was no significant threat.

Someone in the car next to us was removing slices of gherkins [pickles] from her burger and casually throwing them out of their car window... and they were hitting our limousine.

"Excuse me," I said as I wound down the window.

I was met by a pair of bright, shiny, green eyes, a small mountain of wild, red hair; a little button nose... and the cheekiest grin I had ever seen. I was put in mind of a pixie.

And I had a sudden urge to wipe that grin slowly... and painfully... off her face.

"Whoops," the girl behind the grin said. "Sorry!"

"Kindly dispose of your rubbish with more care!" I said with my most intense stare.

She was on the point of breaking - acknowledging my precedence and showing the degree of respect I have come to expect - but then one of her companions said something which was met by an explosion of giggles.

As the pixie made the mistake of looking back inside her car, I took in the scene.

She was in the back seat of the type of safe, sensible car that unambiguously told me that somebody's daddy had bought it for his teenage daughter - and the fact that it was bright pink and looked as if it had just been driven out of the showroom, told me that daddy was not short of money. The parcel shelf, at the back, was filled with a preposterous number of furry animals with additional specimens dangling from the rear view mirror.

There were two other girls in the car with her and they were all dressed for the beach. None of them appeared old enough to be driving... and certainly none of them appeared old enough to be drinking but they were giving every impression that they had been doing plenty of that.

And they were all finding the incident much more amusing than I.

One of the girls in the front of the car said something and the pixie looked back at me. "You going to make me?" she asked before collapsing into a further explosion of hysterical giggles.

I stared at her for a long time in shock. I was not accustomed to being addressed in that sort of tone.

"Ultimately, should it prove necessary, yes, I shall," I replied when she looked up and met my eye.

I had a brief image of licking this naughty little pixie into shape - and, I have to admit, it was not an altogether unpleasant prospect. But, for now, I was rather more concerned about being embarrassed in front of my important business associates.

Unfortunately for her, she failed to take the hint.

"Take a chill pill!" she told me. "Have a drink!"

She retrieved a can from inside the car and held it across to me. It looked like some sort of cheap, fruit flavoured cider. Then she clicked it open with all too predictable consequences. The disgustingly sweet liquid sprayed all over our limousine... and all over me.

"Whoops!" she said again. "Sorry!"

But then she must have noticed my reaction. She seemed to shrink, the grin faded from her face and her ears turned an amusing shade of red.

There was unequivocally scope for bringing this one to heel!

But still, my principal concern was avoiding significant loss of face with my guests. "Not yet, you're not," I assured her as I wiped my face with some tissues that the driver provided. "But you will be, before very long."

I extracted the phone from my pocket and took a photograph of the young reprobate. Then, when our limousine had rolled forwards, I took a second showing their car's number plate.

"Very sorry indeed," I added.

"Look... you can't..."

"We shall be discussing this matter further..." I informed her, fixing her with my eye... "in excruciating detail."

And at last she seemed to appreciate that... maybe... she had made a significant mistake. Her grin had completely vanished and she blanched slightly.

"We shall be seeing each other very soon," I assured her. Then I gave her a small smile and closed the window.

"Please forgive that slight unpleasantness," I said, returning my attention to my guests.

A few minutes later, the traffic began to flow once more. It looked as though they were going to catch their flight after all.