The Price of Deceit: How a Scammer Became a Water Sprite
The door to the dingy little flat in a quiet corner of Manchester opened almost at onceas if the old woman inside had been expecting company. A wiry lady in her eighties stood there, her sharp eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Good afternoon,” the young man said politely, forcing a smile.
“Afternoon, love,” she nodded, stepping aside. “Come in, then. No sense standing in the draft. You from the council, or somewhere else?”
“No, maam. I represent a water purification company. We install the latest filtersturn tap water fresh as a mountain spring, just like the old days when you could drink straight from the river.”
“Well, I never!” She raised her brows. “So youre a water sprite, then? Cleansing the Thames, are we? Good lad. Come through.”
The young man wiped his shoes on the frayed doormat and stepped inside.
“Shall I take my shoes off?” he asked, eyeing the scuffed laminate flooring.
“Oh, dont fuss. My daughter will mop later. Shes young yetIm just an old biddy past my cleaning days.”
“Dont say that! Youre full of lifelook at those rosy cheeks!” he lied smoothly. “Now, wheres the kitchen? Id love to show you what weve got.”
“Flatterer,” she chuckled. “Havent seen my own reflection in yearsdaughter hung all the mirrors too high for me. Come on, then, lets see this miracle of yours.”
The kitchen was cramped but tidy. A gleaming kettle sat on the counter, a pot of geraniums on the sill, and a saucer of mint leaves nearby. She settled into a chair while he got to workunscrewing, reattaching, pouring water into little jars, demonstrating filters, and cheerfully pointing out the “before” and “after.”
“Ill take one,” the old woman said suddenly. “But first, lets have a cuppa. Teas no good alonetastes like honey with company. Just five minutes, no more.”
The man hesitated but nodded. She boiled the filtered water deftly and brewed a fragrant, spiced tea with an odd, earthy warmth.
“Got a family, love?” she asked as she poured.
“No, never married.”
“Good. Too soon for little ones anyway. Tea nice?”
“Lovely. Whered you get this? Id buy some myself.”
“Fairies bring it on my birthday,” she said with a wink.
He smirked, playing along. “And here you are, letting strangers in. Not safe these daysscammers everywhere.”
“Whats there to fear, duck? Ive had my share of frights. At my age, I ought to be the one scaring folksespecially ones like you.”
Just then, a strange lightness filled his head, and before he could stop himself
“Who even cares about this rubbish? I buy these filters for a tenner and flog them for fifty. Sometimes I even enhance the water for effectmakes people pay more. Just running a racket on old dears like you”
The words spilled out before he could bite them back.
“There we are,” the old woman nodded. “Told youfairy tea. Cant lie after a sip.”
He shot to his feet. “What thewhat did you do?”
“Nothing much. You said you were a water sprite, didnt you? Well, now you are. Ours has been overworkedneeds help cleaning the rivers, feeding the fish, tending the weeds. Ten years of service, maybe youll be human again. Till thenwelcome to the water.”
He barely had time to gasp before shrinkingfirst to a droplet, then mist, then a wisp of cloud that trickled into her copper basin.
“There we go,” she said, tipping the water down the sink. “Sorted. Dreams do come true. That lad who came to fix the meter? Directs lightning now. Airs his lot. Youre water. Youll meet.”
She hummed as she washed the cups, then glanced at her darkened reflection in the kitchen cabinets glass.
“Why dont I show up, why dont I show up” she mocked the vanished salesman.
“Because Im older than every mirror in this house. Three hundred years, at least. My daughter knowsthats why she hung them high. Some truths arent for mornings. But I endure. And I tidy up. The elements hate a mess.”
She shuffled to the window, eyed the gathering clouds, and smirked.
“Fairs fair. Even if you have to brew it in a teapot.”
