77. Pricey Peas

"Six hundred mortal euros for a pea???!!!"

                          
My mother was indeed not happy with the bill. She pulled out a pair of nacre reading glasses to examine it minutely.

Yes, that was what the bill said. Six hundred euros for one pea.

“Who ordered that pea?” asked Mum.

“I did,” said Heather, raising her hand. “I thought it would be the least expensive item on the menu. I’m sorry. The menu didn’t have prices on it.”

Our father patted her on the shoulder.

“It’s not your fault, sweetheart,” he said. “First class restaurants don’t have prices on menus so guests won’t feel obliged to order the less expensive food. Sometimes they don’t even have prices on the host’s menu.”

                                    

Mum called the maître, an amoretto named Tomasino, and he explained that the pea in question was no ordinary pea. An authentic princess had slept on it.

“My daughter has eaten a filthy pea somebody slept on? I can’t believe it!”

Tomasino explained there were piles of mattresses between the pea and the princess. But it was so expensive because the poor princess who slept on a  pea like this one spent the whole night tossing and turning because of it.

“Nonsense!” cried my mum. “No pea can make my daughters sleepless, and I assure you there are no greater princesses than these girls.”

Later, once we were heading for home in Darcy’s coach, she told my father that we would surely go broke if we had to frequent this restaurant to keep the darksiders under control. She suggested contacting the moles and buying information from them about what was going on there. It would prove cheaper. That’s how I came to know about the conversations at the different tables that night.

She also told my father they had to advice the fairy people to avoid getting kidnapped by humans for a time because the restaurant bill, the moles and the fight against the darksiders would seriously reduce the funds we kept to pay ransoms. Dad was to tell Mr. Binky to forget about his school and other projects. These were hard times and there would be no money for any of that.

Vinny coughed. A very little cough, but he was heard. We turned to look at him and he stood on his feet and bowed before my parents.

                             

“Your majesties, I think I know how to return the great favor you have done me tonight,”  he said proudly.

Early next morning Vinny was telling Alpin about his experience at the restaurant the night before.

“I’ve come directly to tell you because I know you are a kind of gourmet. Believe me, you can’t miss out on this.”

At noon that very day there was a sign on the front door of  The Poultice that said: “Closed by Alpin.”

                                             

“It’s been a peerless pleasure. I promise to be back.”