The Princess and the Mushy Peas

Once upon a time, in a shop around the corner there worked seven fairly average looking, short blokes. They each had a nickname - Happy Harry, Grumpy Graham, Bashful Barry, Sleepy Sam, Dopey Dennis, Sneezy Simon and Dan the Doc - most of which were self-explanatory. Dan worked on the pharmacy counter and had a following of local folk who swore by his recommended lotions and potions. Three young women worked in the store too. Apart from Dan and Harry the men were all single and fancied their changes with checkout operators Cindy and Zella, who were also unattached. Fiona, the deputy manager, was married to one of the delivery men, a huge chap who looked like an ogre but whose centre was as sweet as the roof of a gingerbread house. Attempts to impress the available women included some shocking new clothes for Dennis, which he bought from a dodgy guy down at the Emperor Warehouse, and some white chocolate mice for Cindy from Sam which, in a bad light, looked more like horses. Graham also purchased a ladder and a comb for Zella who had lovely long blonde hair and lived in a top floor flat in a building that often had a broken lift. Neither of the women fell for the men's charms but they all worked together well enough.

One wet afternoon Cindy sat behind her till clock-watching and wishing she could magic away the rest of the shift. She'd been busy most of the day serving and chatting to regular shoppers. Young Jack had been in for five tins of Heinz for his mum, Mrs Bear had stocked up on porridge taking advantage of the BOGOF offer of the week and the haggard looking mother of six, or maybe seven, kids who lived in nearby Shoe Lane had come and as usual had taken an age to decide what to buy.

But now Cindy was anxious to be home. Her wonderful stepmother had been having a difficult time in her own job at the glass coach factory and an hour ago Cindy had received a text. "Left work early. Goin 4 interview @ new furniture shop – ‘Mirror, Mirror on the Wall’ Ma xx" Cindy wanted to know more. She was also feeling unusually sleepy. Wondering why she sucked the finger she had pricked on a needle earlier when she sold a sewing kit to a very beautiful young woman wearing an 'I AM 16 TODAY' badge.

Looking at her watch for the fourth time in as many minutes she failed to notice the entrance of Mark Prince, the handsome, but sleazy, son of the boss. A stage whisper from Zella, "he's behind you," came too late.

"Oh, no he isn't," said Prince as he moved to a position where he could leer at Cindy's breasts. "My, my what big buns you have little girl," he added, glancing briefly at the confectionary in the ‘Sale Items’ tray by the side of the conveyor belt, before raising his eyes once again to her cleavage.

"Hello Mr Prince," she said politely. "What can I do for you today?"

"We'll babes," he replied wolfishly, shifting his gaze to Zella's chest, "I just so happen to have a few pairs of new sandals and I wondered if you both might like to see if they fit."

Emerging from the storeroom Fiona heard this exchange and bristling at the brute’s tall tales said: "I am sorry Mr Prince but I can't agree to you selling your footwear here. As I'm sure you know your father doesn't allow hawkers in the shop."

Blushing Prince packed the shoes away in his bag alongside his own personal poison; a bottle of strong cider.

"Witch," he muttered under his breath.

With images of toads and frogs in her head, and wishing that she COULD cast a spell on the hateful man, Fiona glared at Prince when suddenly they were all distracted by a commotion in the doorway. In ran Alan who, with his widowed mother, owned and ran the local launderette. "We’ve been robbed, someone call the police,” he cried.

Before anyone had time to move, let alone respond, in burst the thieves making so much noise that although there was only two of them it seemed like many more; 40 at least.

"Hand over the cash," the tallest one shouted, pointing a gun at Zella's head.

Pandemonium followed. Doc dropped the drugs he'd been cataloging and ran out from behind his counter. Simon stuffed his hanky in this pocket and grabbed the knife he'd been using to cut up meat for pie making. All the other male employees made a move. But before any of them could reach the intruders a shower of tins rained through the air. Everyone ducked but one of the missiles hit the intended target and the gun fell to the floor as the burglar clutched his bleeding head. Barry retrieved the gun. Graham tackled the accessory. Sam sat on the bloody villain. Fiona pulled out her mobile phone and called for help. Still shaking a little Zella smiled at her fellow cashier and picked up the tin that Cindy had thrown to save her. Never before had mushy peas packed such a punch.

A couple of hours later all the statements had been given and the blood cleared up. The only one unable to contribute to these activities was Mark Prince. From his hiding place behind a display of pumpkins he'd seen nothing, been no help. He left, pulling his cloak around his shoulders, his tail between his legs.

"Well done everyone, let’s have a late start tomorrow," said Fiona as she locked up.

Turning towards Cindy, Zella kissed her cheek softly and said, "what a pantomime, thank you my hero, my princess."

"My pleasure," replied Cindy fingering Zella's curls.

Looking into each others eyes they knew then that they both wanted the same thing. Watched by the cast of the afternoon’s adventure they turned to walk hand-in-hand towards the sunset.

And of course . . . They lived happily ever after.