A Writer's Wonderland [PDF] - University of Portsmouth

‘It..... You look beautiful,’ Isabel stammered.
‘No I don’t!’ shouted Arianna, as she stood with her arms crossed in front of her chest,
her long blonde hair cascading over her shoulders. ‘I haven’t got the right shoes! These ones are
disgusting!’ she said, and lifted up her right foot from under the hem of the gown to reveal a
stunning, beautiful diamond slipper.
‘But darling, those were the slippers your father had made for me for our wedding,’ said
Isabel, smiling, as she slid the slipper off her foot and examined it as if she had been re-united
with an old friend. ‘These shoes are priceless you know, and are of great sentimental value to
me. I’d be honoured if you were to wear them.’ She held the shoe in the middle of her
outstretched palms for Arianna to take back, but Arianna simply snatched it from her mother
and threw it across the room in rage.
‘This is my birthday ball, mother, I do not want your used cast-offs!’ screamed Arianna,
‘I want a new pair of ruby slippers! I have to look the best at my ball!’ She turned around and
looked her mother in the eye. ‘Father would have wanted it!’
Isabel quickly wiped the stream of tears that had fallen down her cheeks. ‘O-of course
he would dear,’ she said, her voice quivering. ‘I’ll m-make sure you get a pair of ruby slippers in
time. I love you, Arianna.’
‘you’d better.’
***
Arianna stormed into her bathroom, and with one final look at her mother simply said,
Three days passed and there was still no sign of the Ruby slippers, and as every day
passed Arianna was getting angrier and angrier. On the morning of the fourth day, Isabel
decided to ride by horse and carriage through the Barley meadows until she reached the village
of Little Hockford. It was here that the Royal Cobbler lived.
Isabel walked up to the hut and rapped on the door three times, but heard no answer.
She pressed her ear firmly against the oak door and heard the familiar clanks of a hammer.
Silently, she pushed the door to and stepped inside.
It wasn’t a very big hut but there were cupboards and drawers from the floor to the
ceiling that covered most of the walls, and many bits of material hanging here and there. Thick
oak beams ran in lines from left to right across the ceiling, and on each beam hung at least two
dozen pairs of shoes from rusty, wonky nails. There were big shoes, little shoes, pointy shoes,
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