Southend U3A

November 2023

Justice - Jan Norman

Queen Give it ‘ere sat down at her dressing table and cupped her chin in her hands. She needed to think and find a solution to a very knotty problem. Hard times had fallen on the magical kingdom of Cam a Lot. The summer weather had been very cold and wet and the wheat harvest had been poor. To make matters worse it would soon be her 40th birthday. She wanted a really big celebration as she was feeling her age and needed cheering up but how was she going to have huge cakes if there was very little flour and what little there was would be used to make bread for the people of Cam a lot? Suddenly it came to her. What looked like a cake but wasn't a cake? Jumping up she sent for her master chef and explained what she wanted. Was it possible? He assured her it would be and clapping her hands with joy she rushed off to find her dear husband to tell him the good news.

King Aga was in his tower seated at his nearly round table surrounded by his small band of trusty knights. He had his own problems to wrestle with concerning the organisation and implementation of his beloved Queen’s birthday. To help him he had created a tick list and needed to delegate some of the tasks to his knights but at least he had solved one major concern: Queen Give it ‘ere’s birthday present. She had begged for a small replica farm where she and her Ladies in Waiting could play at being milkmaids and pet small furry creatures like rabbits and goats. In fact, at this very moment in time. his Master builders were constructing the tiny farmhouse and yard in a corner of the castle bailey shrouded from prying eyes by canvas sheets.

‘Right gentlemen, let us begin. ‘Who will volunteer to help Merlin organise the firework display?’ Many knights shouted, ‘Me, me.’ because they all loved watching the sparkling, whooshing light show and jumping at the big bangs, didn’t they?

Glancing up from his list he caught the eye of Sir Prays a Lot and Sit Gets it Wrong a Lot. ‘You two, alright? ‘Good’ and ticked the job on his list. ‘Now who will . . .?’ was as far as he got as the Queen burst into the room shouting, ‘Let them eat cake! That’s the answer,’ before rushing out again leaving a sea of bemused expressions on the faces of those present.

After glancing at the knights grins the now irritated King Aga said ‘Yes, yes that’s all very well but let’s get back to the really important problems gentlemen. Now which of my brave knights will go to Bideford harbour on Thursday to meet the ship from the Netherlands, carrying our dear cousin, King Otto Von Grotto, his Queen, Gouda and their entourage here to attend our Queen’s birthday bash? I need volunteers. Good. Yes, Sir Rust a Lot and you five to his right. Settled. Next item . . .’

Meantime, Merlin and his magical assistant, Fryed Marzbar, who came from Glasgow, had locked themselves in a room above the vast kitchens of Cam a Lot castle and spent days and nights, without a break, concocting complex magical spells and potions worthy enough to make the most fantastical firework display at the Queen’s birthday celebration. At last the job was completed but working through the night had made them so tired that Merlin could not keep his eyes open any longer and he had to feel where the stoppers fitted the flasks of sparkles and bangs before leaving them lined up on the table.

‘At last, Fryed. We have all the potions ready. Let’s head for our beds.’ So saying Merlin shoved his chair back from the bench and headed for the door. As it closed behind them, they missed the faint drip, drip, drip that could be heard in the darkness as a fallen flask lost its stopper and leaked magical fluid onto the table, then floor, then through floorboards into the kitchen below where sat a magnificent row of meringues, baked to look like cakes, sat cooling. This was Queen Give it ‘ere’s answer to her real cake dilemma. Soon all the baked goods had a magical, but royal looking, purple frosting as the drips splashed from the ceiling and coated every cake.

The day of her birthday dawned and after being showered with presents and entertainments, the Queen invited all of the nobility and all of Cam a lot’s big wigs and their wives to a wonderful sit-down feast in the King’s great hall. Food and drink abounded but respecting the poor and the shortage of flour no bread or cakes could be seen.

Afterwards everyone assembled on the castle battlements to watch the fireworks which although spectacular did not include many bangs. The king and Queen were puzzled and a little disappointed.

Merlin and Fryed Marzbar were just as surprised and set off to do some investigating whilst everyone trooped indoors for the final treat of the night.

Once all the guests had been seated the huge birthday cake was wheeled in from the kitchen followed by trolleys carrying lots of smaller individual cakes which were distributed to all the guests.

‘How come we have cake when flour is so scarce?’ piped up a lone voice. ‘It’s not right.’ Others murmured in agreement.

‘That’s my surprise,’ shouted an excited Give it ‘ere. ‘It’s not real cake it’s meringue: egg whites and sugar, no flour.’

Everyone cheered and toasted their clever Queen.

Standing, the Queen raised a huge silver knife in preparation for the ceremonious cutting of the biggest cake.

‘Stop your Highness. Don’t touch the cake,’ screamed Merlin as he charged through the doorway. ‘It’s contaminated with magic.’

Startled she dropped the knife into the cake and a huge wheeee filled the air followed by catherine wheel type whirrings as huge whorls of coloured stars and an enormous spray of meringue flew across the room showering all the guests with sticky stars. A lump of fizzing meringue flew up in the air and fell down over Merlin’s hat blowing it clean off and covered his face in purple goo. Scraping it from his eyes he tentatively tasted a bit, sighed with relief and shouted to all that it was harmless and tasty.

Covered in purple gunge and with her hair blown into stiff, sticky spikes, Queen Give it ‘ere, once over the shock, laughed. Scooping up more magic meringue she flung a gob at King Aga. All gasped and held their breath as they waited for his reaction. He giggled as it exploded on contact with his crown and everyone else giggled when he took it off and licked it clean, burping silver sparkles as he ate.

No more was needed. Happy mayhem ensued as the court and guests alike grabbed bits of goo and hurled them at their fellow guests or rubbed them into their neighbours faces. The king, not to be outdone, raced across the room to join in, only to be swept off his feet as a gout of goo hit him with a bang in the royal bottom and sent him skidding yards down the hall on his backside alight with a rocket’s tail of stars. Half an hour later all were on the floor coated in sticky gobs: some had spiky hairdos of purple; others had shiny purple pates, their wigs dangling from the rafters above. All were happy but exhausted. In the now stillness, all that could be heard was the faint hisses and burps as the magic subsided.

Merlin, aghast at what his carelessness had caused, rushed over to the Queen and threw himself at her feet. Grabbing the sticky hem of her skirt he begged her mercy.

Laughing she raised him to his feet and, declaring she had never had so much fun on her birthday, gave him a knighthood. To her, justice had been done.