Southend U3A

September 2022

Cinder-hell-a (The debunking of a myth) - Anne Wilson

‘Cheer up, Cinders,’ he beamed. ‘I’ll keep you company and put a smile back on that pretty little face of yours.’

‘Oh God,’ she replied. ‘You’re not going to sing one of those interminably vacuous songs again, are you, about how wonderful life is and how I should always be grateful for everything?’

He blushed with boyish embarrassment.

‘I was as a matter of fact but you might prefer to put your head on my shoulder and let me mop away your tears, one by one. Then we can hug each other and I can be your special friend.’

She sighed deeply.

‘How can I put this kindly? You’re very sweet, Buttons and I know how faithful a servant you are to my father but frankly I find you a pain in the arse. I’m looking for someone dynamic, with a mental age of over twelve and, more than anything, with oodles and oodles of money.’

Buttons squeezed her hand.

‘I know you don’t really mean that, Cinders,’ he reassured her. ‘You’re just tired and run down with all the work you have to do.’

‘It’s not exactly rocket science, is it?’ she snapped. ‘It’s not even time-consuming: I load and unload the dishwasher, turn on the washing machine and see to it that those two abominations of step-sisters do the real hard work.

What do you think I am, an idiot? Most of the time I sit down here with my feet up and read.’

They were interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps approaching.

‘It’s the Master!’ exclaimed Buttons standing to attention.

A rotund little man with a beard entered the kitchen.

‘Ey up, lass’ he shouted. ’Ow thee be doing?’

‘Oh, father, for pity’s sake’ Cinder-hell-a responded. ‘Why do you have to always bellow in that faux Yorkshire accent? You were born in London, went to Eton and we only moved up here to this god-forsaken Northern hole a couple of years ago.’

He was undeterred. ‘I ‘ave ‘ere, in the palm of me ‘and, three tickets for the Mayor’s Ball at town ‘all. What do you say to that?’

‘I say that I’d rather stay at home and watch paint dry,’ she responded without interest. ‘I suppose the other two tickets are for Cruella and Godzilla.’

‘Now lass, don’t begrudge them. Your step-sisters don’t get out very much.’

‘None of us gets out very much,’ protested his daughter. ‘The most excitement I’ve had over the last eighteen months or so has been getting vaccinated against Covid-19.’ She reached out her hand. ‘Oh well: let’s see the ticket. ‘Who is the Mayor this year, anyway?’

‘My long-time fellow-councillor, Maxwell D’Arcy’ her father told her, ‘and there’s rumour going around it could be me next time. Just think of it, my little Cinders. You could be daughter of the Mayor.’

‘And that frosty wife of yours could be the Mayoress,’ snorted Cinder-hella. ‘Worst of all, those cretinous Ugly Sisters of mine could land up as step-daughters of the Mayor.’

‘But they wouldn’t hold a candle to you,’ said Buttons, beaming with adoration.

‘Oh, shut up you irritating fool,’ snapped back Cinderella. ‘Go and find someone else to cheer up.’

Shoulders hunched in hurt and disappointment, Buttons fled, knocking two ladies of contrasting proportions in the process. They fell against the kitchen door in unison and gathered themselves slowly, brushing themselves down as they did so.

‘We’re just reporting for our duties, Cinder-hella, dear’ said Cruella, the tall, angular one.’

‘Good morning, Papa,’ said the short, vertically challenged one, Godzilla, on seeing her step-father. ‘What are you doing down here?’

‘There’s no need to speak to him like he’s the father in a Jane Austen novel,’ scoffed Cinder-hella. ‘And he’s my father anyway, not yours.’

‘I have ‘ere for both of you, tickets to the Mayor’s Ball at Town Hall,’ proclaimed the Baron.

‘Oh, how lovely!’ the two step-sisters exclaimed. ‘A chance for us to dress-up and look glamorous.’

‘There aren’t enough hours in the day,’ Cinder-hella muttered.’

‘Tell me, Papa,’ asked Cruella eagerly. ‘Will there be any eligible men there?’

‘Well, even if there are, I wouldn’t build your hopes up.’ sneered Cinder-hella. ‘Not only do each of you make the back of a bus look attractive our family name is Hard-up: not exactly the sort of name to set a young man’s heart pulsating with thoughts of inheriting the family wealth.’

The Baron bristled with indignation.

‘Now, look here,’ he protested ‘I’ve been an ‘Ard-Up’ man and boy and by gum I’m proud of it. As to your enquiry, my dear Cruella, my understanding is that the most eligible young man in town will be present.’

‘You don’t mean . . .?’ squealed the two step-sisters together.

‘I do,’ beamed their step-father. ‘The young man known in these here parts by the nickname of ‘Prince Charming.’

The ugly sisters squealed with excitement.

‘What is his real name?’ asked Godzilla, clasping her over-size hands together. ‘I’ve never known, even though he is the handsomest, richest man in the North of England.’

‘Well, actually it’s Arnold Sidebottom,’ the Baron admitted reluctantly. ‘But what’s a name when you look like ‘e does and come from a family with pots of money? Rumour ‘as it that ‘is father’s pushing for ‘im to find a wife so he can have children and carry on the family name.’

‘Sidebottom,’ Cinder-hella repeated slowly and deliberately. ‘Yes: I can see why any family would want to preserve that name and let it pass down the generations. It has a certain air about it.’

Her father sighed deeply. His daughter really was a sarcastic little bitch.

The big day dawned, passing as usual by Cinder-hella flouncing around the house and doing as she pleased, while her two step-sisters worked like drones in the kitchen. No nook or cranny escaped their attention and the kitchen glowed in the sterile manner of a show home in a glossy magazine. They looked anxiously at the kitchen clock and noticed that the time was growing ever closer to the start of the Ball. Caked in dirt, their clothes in tatters, time was of the essence if they were to clean their faces and get into the one plain, but respectable dress they each owned. They gathered themselves together and made for the kitchen door, where they were waylaid by a figure bedecked in jewels and clad in a ballgown.

‘Oh, Cinder-hella, you look beautiful,’ chorused Cruella and Godzilla, tears of emotion filling their eyes.

‘Out of my way,’ she responded dismissively. ‘I just want to check whether you’ve both completed your tasks in the manner expected of you.’

The two Ugly Sisters held their respective breaths as Cinder-hella undertook her inspection. Being of a critical disposition, it was executed in minute detail.

‘I’m afraid I can’t let this pass,’ she informed them eventually. ‘You must work until everything is pristine.’

‘But, Cinder-hella,’ protested Cruella. ‘We haven’t even changed yet.’

‘Well then,’ she replied, ‘you’re going to miss the start of the Ball, aren’t you? I’m afraid I have to leave now: my Uber taxi is due any moment. I can’t wait indefinitely for both of you.’

‘Oh, Cinder-hella,’ cried Godzilla, ‘how are we going to get there?’

‘None of my concern,’ and Cinder-hella waved her hand as she made her grand exit. ‘Have a good time cleaning the kitchen.’

The Ugly Sisters heard the taxi draw up and both collapsed in a heap, sniffling loudly. Suddenly, there was a puff of smoke. As it cleared they saw someone walking towards them: a pretty older lady with silver hair with the texture of candy floss, rouged cheeks and startlingly red lips. She put them in mind of Barbara Cartland in her dotage.

‘Cheer up, my dears,’ she exhorted them. ‘All will be well. I am your Fairy Godmother.’

‘Oh, Fairy Godmother,’ they both howled. ‘Our cruel step-sister, Cinder-hella, has made us clean the kitchen while she goes to the Mayor’s Ball.’

‘Have faith,’ she proclaimed. ‘You shall go to the ball. ‘Your carriage awaits you.’

‘But, Fairy Godmother,’ they protested. ‘We have no nice clothes to go in. And we’re both dirty and sweaty from the labours of the day.

The Fairy Godmother sniffed.

‘You do both pong a bit, I admit, but fear not, magic will triumph over any adversity.’

She raised her wand majestically. ‘In a puff of smoke you will both be transformed into two of the most breathtakingly beautiful ladies Yorkshire has ever seen. Your clothes will bring gasps from the assembled throng and your dainty feet will be encased in slippers made of the finest glass.

There was a bang, followed by the promised puff of smoke. Once it started to clear, the Fairy Godmother stood back a few paces to inspect them both. She shook her head in disbelief.

‘Oh, my God: there are some things even beyond the reach of magic. You’re still both as ugly as a number nine bus. Sod this for a game of soldiers: I’m off!’

It had been an evening of misery for both the Ugly Sisters and they took it upon themselves to open the bottle of gin their father had naively thought he had hidden away. At a few minutes after midnight they heard the sound of a car draw up. Cinder-hella was arriving home.

She was well practised at the art of flouncing and did so as she entered the kitchen door.

‘Oh, you’re both still here,’ was her superfluous observation. ‘You missed the most incredible evening. Prince Charming lived up to his name and I almost forgot he was christened Arnie Sidebottom. Still, it’s a minor obstacle to overcome when you look like him and can spend money like water. He was so taken with me that I’m certain I can have him ‘like that.’ She clicked her fingers.

Bolstered by the input of their step-father’s gin, the two sisters remonstrated with her.

‘What you did was cruel. There was nothing the matter with the kitchen.’

‘No’, Cinder-hella mocked. ‘But everything the matter with you two. You would have been completely out of place. I was the belle of the ball I tell you.’ She yawned. ‘And now I’m going to go to bed. I fully expect the wonderful Prince Charming to be beating a path to my door first thing tomorrow.’

‘How can you be sure?’ asked Griselda.

‘Because, you unimaginative cretin, I left one of my slippers at the suite in the Town Hall for him to find. He can use returning it as an excuse to gaze upon my ravishing good looks without feeling any embarrassment.

The Ugly Sisters awoke with a hangover but their work ethic still intact. Reporting for duty in the kitchen, they found that Cinder-hella had beaten them to it and was seated at the table, with the adoring Buttons by her side.

‘Any minute now,’ she crowed. ‘Prince Charming won’t be able to resist me.’

There was a knock at the front door.

‘Go and answer it, Buttons,’ he was instructed.

‘Anything for you, Cinders,’ he replied in his usual adoring manner.

After some time, during which she heard an exchange of male voices in the hallway, a breathtakingly handsome man followed Buttons into the kitchen, carrying with him a glass slipper, which he proceeded to hand to her.

‘I believe you left this behind at the Ball last night.’

‘Shall I try it on?’ Cinder-hella simpered. ‘Then we can see if it’s a fit.’

‘No need really,’ he replied. ‘It’s definitely yours.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Because of the note inside saying ‘If lost: please return to Cinder-Hella Hard-Up at Hard-Up Hall – fifteen minutes down the road.’

She pouted seductively.

‘I wanted to make sure you knew where to find me.’

The handsomest man in all Yorkshire coughed nervously.

‘It enjoyed last night,’ he muttered. ‘Thank you for being such good company. My father is always trying to pair me off with various girls and it embarrasses me, but with you I felt we just had fun and there was no pressure.’

Cinder-hella’s self-confidence started to wane. Was it possible that this was one man in England who wasn’t dazzled by her beauty? He seemed different this morning; less high-spirited and certainly less interested in her romantically than she had judged him to be.

She gave it another try.

‘Don’t be a stranger.’

He

smiled, turned on his heels and Buttons left with him to show him out. When Buttons returned, he seemed pre-occupied. Unusually for someone so-self-absorbed even Cinder-hella noticed.

‘Anything the matter?’ she asked.

Buttons blushed.

‘Well, yes, Cinders there is. When I opened the front door to that man, he was all over me like a rash, making lewd suggestions. I believe he was propositioning me. Before he left he gave me his business card and asked me if I’d like to meet up with him sometime. He said I was the most attractive man he’d met for ages.’

A horrible truth dawned on Cinderella.

‘Buttons,’ she said. ‘I never thought I’d say this but do you know any nice songs you can sing to cheer me up?’