She couldn’t remember things

Continuing Janet still … I think there’s more to come, although it has rather deteriorated into a bit of nonsense!

It was only because of Dragon that Janet had been able to force her way into the Council’s inner offices. The receptionist  – a hen-breasted woman with poorly bleached hair tamed by a can of hairspray – assured her she needed an appointment to see the Planning Officer. Janet, being a reasonable person, asked for the earliest available appointment and waited expectantly for the receptionist to scour her PC’s calendar. 

She smiled with lipstick stained teeth. ‘We will then email you with an appointment time. Or message you, if you give us those details. Or…’ She patted her hair, frowning, as if she couldn’t remember things and was trying very hard to do so. Customer service was, it seemed, important. ‘I know!’ She smiled again. ‘If you give us your mobile number, we’ll text you.’ She frowned. ‘There’s an app too, perhaps that might be easier?’

Janet lost patience. She gave a low whistle, and Dragon stuck his head through the door – all that would fit of him – causing the two wide glass panels to swing back against the walls with a tremendous bang.

It may have been the bang, or possibly the sight of Dragon, which caused the receptionist to scream. A louder noise than the more muted, but audible, screams coming from the Council carpark.

‘Now,’ Janet said, ‘perhaps you’d like to take me to the planning office before my friend here burns the building down.’

Dragon let out a tiny stream of fire.

The trembling receptionist tossed Janet a card on a yellow ribbon. ‘Here, this will let you in.’ She pointed to the door to the inner sanctum. ‘Turn left and head to the end, it’s on your right.’

‘Thank you.’ Turning to Dragon, Janet waved him away. ‘Why don’t you fetch Pixie and Fairy and we’ll meet you at home. Best keep a low profile for a bit, I think.’ She grinned.

Dragon withdrew his head, which was replaced by the Goblin King, crown awry, rushing through the door brandishing Janet’s sword – the one she had lost when she was a child.

‘You’re not facing the enemy alone, young Janet!’ He brandished the sword.

It was the last straw for the receptionist. She gave another scream and ducked behind the counter.

Janet nodded at the Goblin King. ‘Come on then.’ And led the way to the door.

Their progress through the offices was met with a mixture of studied disinterest, until the workers caught a glimpse of the sword. This was met with gasps until finally one brave woman stood up from her desk, and shouted, ‘Where do you think you’re going with that?’

Janet ignored her, and trudged on. The woman followed, shouting, and Janet glanced sideways at the Goblin King who gave a little dance of glee and winked at her. Janet laughed.

Right at the end they found the door marked Planning Office, and pushed it open.

Two men stared at their noisy entrance.

‘What are you doing here?’ one cried, as if he knew Janet. Or perhaps he was acquainted with the Goblin King.

Janet peered at him. ‘We’re here to save the forest,’ she said with as much calm as she could muster.

Goblin King waved his sword to underline how serious they were.

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