The Fairy Godmother Everyone could already tell by Year 7 that Lisa Browning was destined to become a brilliant doctor. It all started when the neighbour’s boy fell off the swings and bloodied his knee and head terribly. The sight would have made most people faint, but twelve-year-old Lisa kept her cool. “Yasmin, fetch some water, bandages and antiseptic!” she commanded her best friend, who lived in the flat opposite the playground. Without a word, Yasmin dashed home. By the time the frightened auntie—little Jamie’s mum, Mrs Turner, had found out and rushed over, Lisa had calmly and efficiently cleaned, treated, and dressed the wounds with the professionalism of someone far beyond her years. When Mrs Turner learned who had given her son first aid, she was astonished. Thanking Lisa warmly, she declared: “You’re going to be a doctor. And not just any doctor—an outstanding one. Well done, you didn’t panic! Some real doctors could learn from you, my dear.” On camping trips, Lisa was simply indispensable. No one wanted to get hurt, of course, but with Lisa Browning there, any scrapes seemed less frightening. Then came medical school, internships, hospital foundation years, and a steady stream of training courses. Once, in her role as a junior doctor, Lisa had to fill in for the Head of Functional Diagnostics. It was safe to say that Dr Elizabeth Alexandra, now Mrs Thompson, was both respected and valued by her colleagues. The team was fantastic—apart from the ageing deputy head, Dr Bernard Stephens, notorious for his grumpiness and temper, and something of an energy vampire to boot. He was in his element when there was trouble to be had. Lisa tried not to rise to his provocations, though only she knew how much effort that took! The only consolation for Dr Thompson was that their paths didn’t often cross—just once a week at the admissions panel when they discussed diagnoses for new patients. Even then, those meetings were anything but pleasant. Dr Stephens would frequently clash with Elizabeth, sometimes making sly, biting comments. He seemed to sense that Dr Thompson tried to ignore his barbs, and it only encouraged him. “Impossible man,” she complained to her husband Val after another trying day. “Honestly, I’ve tried to be patient, but it’s as if Stephens deliberately goads me.” “I’m sure you’ll come out on top,” Val grinned. “You’re the best diplomat I know.” “Absolutely, Mum,” agreed their thirteen-year-old, Max. “If you get bored being a doctor, you should be a diplomat. They earn loads more as well.” “I’ll give it some thought,” she laughed. Lisa was always diplomatic—but at the end of the day, only human. And patience, unfortunately, does have its limits. She sensed that sooner or later, she might just snap, and if she did, it would be for a good reason. The very next day at the usual doctors’ meeting everything was routine—until it was Lisa’s turn to present the notes of a woman in her sixties on the examination couch across from them. Normally, after the report, the patient would leave if she was able, and the head of department, the attending physician, and the deputy would discuss the case in private. This time, however, things got out of hand. “Just tell me one thing,” the older lady asked, her voice trembling. “Is it very serious? Will I recover? I have a granddaughter to raise on my own.” There was so much hope in her anxious eyes, it almost brought tears. Lisa had just begun to speak words of comfort when Dr Stephens bulldozed in. “With a diagnosis like yours?! Frankly, dear lady, your condition is so advanced, no sensible doctor would offer any guarantees! What were you thinking all this time?” The patient froze, lips trembling, but Dr Stephens pressed on: “I know your type! You ignore everything, self-medicate, and only come crawling to a doctor when it’s nearly too late! We’re not miracle workers…” The poor woman burst into tears and left the room. Later, Elizabeth berated herself for not reigning Stephens in, but in truth, she had been stunned. To yell at an elderly patient in such distress was simply unthinkable. The head of department shook her head in disapproval, too. Even if, deep down, the doctors acknowledged Stephens wasn’t technically wrong, there was no excuse for not speaking more kindly—at least with respect for the patient’s age. And that was when Lisa’s patience broke. Enough was enough. “Dr Stephens, with all due respect, what exactly do you think you’re doing?” “What’s the problem?” Stephens shrugged. “We’re not magicians. It’s about time patients knew that. Everything is easier to treat in the early stages, and you know that as well as I do.” Seeing Stephens’ self-satisfied smirk, Lisa grimaced in disgust. The head of department, knowing exactly what he was so pleased about, braced as Lisa took up the challenge. “Yes, Dr Stephens, you’re certainly right that early intervention is better. In most cases, it’s the only real chance! But do you realise how hard I worked to persuade that woman to get treatment? She believed me when I said things could be alright. And now—you’ve shattered all of that in a single moment. Well done.” Lisa threw up her hands in frustration. Stephens, recovering from her outburst, tried to assert his authority with the head of department, but soon realised it was no use. He had long ago discovered Mrs Thompson was no pushover—she knew her worth, and it was high. He blustered some more, but Lisa was barely listening. She watched, as if through a veil, as the department head left the office. With only Stephens for company, Elizabeth felt suffocated. Lisa gazed blankly at a corner, silent. How could she be expected to get on with her work after this? She felt like crying, but thought, “No way am I giving him that satisfaction.” She moved to the window, and heard the door slam. Lisa turned to see she was alone. She sat down at her desk and reached for her files. Duty still called. “Dr Thompson?” came a hesitant voice. She barely registered who it was, so unlike Stephens’ usual tone of command. The deputy held a bottle of valerian drops, his face creased in confusion. Strangely, Lisa felt no triumph—only pity. Rumour had it that Stephens was a lonely man. “Dr Thompson, here,” he muttered, handing her the vial. “And… forgive me. Maybe you’re right….” “And you, Dr Stephens,” she replied, choosing kindness, “have your own point. But our job is to heal people—and to give them at least a glimmer of hope. Sometimes, that hope creates miracles. I’m sure you know that as well as I do.” “Yes, yes, of course,” Stephens nodded absently. Such a transformation was something remarkable, but Lisa didn’t dwell on it. Better to strike while the iron was hot. “Dr Stephens,” she said, taking a steadying breath, “please remember: I’ll never allow anyone—no matter their position—to raise their voice or question my qualifications in front of a patient, whether they’re a porter or the Health Secretary himself.” “Absolutely, Dr Thompson. Understood.” “Let’s hope so,” thought Lisa, looking at the time. There was still so much to do. An hour later, she visited the patient—Veronica Grace, who had a bouquet of tulips on her bedside table. Seeing Lisa, the older woman smiled. “You’ll never guess who just visited me,” she said. “Your boss! Brought me flowers and apologised. Said, ‘We’ll do everything we possibly can to help you recover.’” “That’s wonderful,” Lisa replied, squeezing Veronica’s hand. “We really will do everything. You’re as good as new—practically a young bride-to-be!” “You joker!” laughed the patient. A month on, Veronica was on the mend. On the day she was discharged, Dr Stephens brought her a box of posh chocolates. “For your granddaughter,” he said, a little awkwardly. “And these are for you,” holding out a bouquet of roses. “Such beautiful flowers! Thank you so much. I can’t remember the last time someone gave me flowers. And my thanks to all of you—doctors, really, you’ve given an old lady her life back.” History was made: “Did Stephens just do that?” thought everyone present, marvelling. The widely disliked deputy, famous for never speaking a kind word, had done the unthinkable. Relations between Lisa and Bernard improved, if not to friendship, then to very cordial understanding. They often shared a coffee after meetings, or sometimes ran into each other in the hospital café. “There’s no such thing as happiness,” Stephens confided once. “Maybe that’s why I’m so cantankerous. Life’s gone by, and I haven’t really lived it.” “What do you mean?” Lisa exclaimed. “You’re senior deputy, that’s no small achievement.” “I suppose so,” he conceded. “But I wish I was happy. I was, once. But it slipped away.” So, Lisa realised, the man had simply been defeated by loneliness. She found herself growing fond of him. Lisa’s new friendship did not go unnoticed by the staff, though nobody stooped to idle gossip—Dr Thompson was above that, and Stephens was hardly a ladies’ man. “What’s your secret?” nurse Abby asked in the middle of a girls’ tea party. “He’s different now—actually smiles. Not often, but it’s something!” Every Friday, all the female staff, from doctors to cleaners, held a tea party in the hospital kitchen, bringing their best cakes and jam. “Honestly, girls, there’s no secret,” Lisa said. “It’s simple really.” “As if!” scoffed Valerie the cloakroom lady. “It’s true! Everything depends on self-confidence and dignity. Anyone—be they doctor or cleaner—deserves both.” “I wish I could,” sighed young orderlie Sarah. “He scares me!” “You shouldn’t think like that,” Lisa replied. “Everyone has the right to self-respect. It’s all about confidence.” Psychiatrist Gillian nodded. “Especially with energy vampires. If they sense confidence, they steer clear—there’s nothing to feed off.” “Maybe Stephens is just an unhappy man,” mused Vera the cook. Everyone agreed—except Lisa, who knew it for a fact. “Did I miss much, girls?” panted Katie the linen lady, bustling in. “Not really—we’re just gossiping about old Bernie,” Gillian grinned. “Oh, then you’re all up to date!” Katie declared. “About what?” everyone clamoured. “Stephens is getting married!” “No way!” “Now that’s a shock!” “More likely the world’s about to freeze over than that!” Hospital staff were agog. “Lisa, don’t tell me you didn’t know,” said the housekeeper slyly. “No, I had no idea!” Lisa replied, surprised. “We talked about a lot, but not hearts and flowers.” “People like him would never let on!” pronounced psychologist Tamara sagely. “Too right,” Lisa thought. “I wonder who the lucky lady is…” “So who is he marrying?” Sarah piped up. “Not sure—apparently it’s a patient,” Katie said as she poured her tea. “Seriously?” Vera exclaimed, while Lisa smiled—she had an inkling. “Well, girls, I think this news deserves something stronger than tea,” Lisa said. “A bottle or two of wine, perhaps?” Cheers! For all they knew, becoming a newlywed might just soften Stephens up a bit. The next day at coffee, Stephens looked the picture of happiness. Lisa didn’t let on that she’d heard—it was obvious he wanted to announce it himself. “You’re looking well, Bernard,” she smiled. “You noticed,” he grinned. “And I’m in a fantastic mood—I’m getting married, Lisa!” “Really?” Lisa feigned surprise. “And who’s the lucky lady?” “Oh, she’s marvellous. The very best in the world for me.” “So—will you tell me who?” “It’s Veronica. You know, the lady you gave me a proper talking-to about. I really liked her, so I decided to act. Got her details from her records, went to see her—ostensibly as follow-up care.” “Well, well, a secret schemer after all,” Lisa laughed. “She’s a wonderful choice.” “I think so, too. And I want you at our wedding. You and your family. Because it’s thanks to you that I found my soulmate. Lisa, you really should have been a diplomat!” “Oh, don’t be silly! Fate would have brought you together regardless.” The wedding was lovely. The groom looked dashing, and the bride radiant—transformed from the anxious patient desperate for her granddaughter’s sake into a stylish, confident woman ten years younger. Veronica’s bob haircut and dark chestnut hair suited her perfectly, and she never tired of thanking Lisa…

The Fairy

It was already clear by Year 7 that Lucy Wakefield would one day make a wonderful doctor. Back then, a boy from the neighbourhood fell off the swings and badly gashed his knee and bumped his head. The sight was not for the faint-hearted, but twelve-year-old Lucy didnt panic.

Jemima, fetch some water, a bandage, and the antiseptic! she called to her friend who lived in the flat across from the park. Jemima dashed home at once.

By the time the boys terrified mother, Mrs Taylor, somehow learned of the accident and arrived, Lucy had already cleaned, treated, and bandaged his injuries with surprising skill. When Mrs Taylor discovered who had given her son first aid, she was taken aback with gratitude.

Youll be a doctor, Mrs Taylor declared. And not just any doctor a great one. Well done, you kept your head. Some doctors could take tips from you!

On school trips, Lucy was invaluable. No one wanted to get injured, but with Lucy Wakefield around, it didnt seem so scary.

After that, Lucy went on to medical school, then her hospital placement, then a year of clinical training, and never stopped attending advanced courses.

One day, as a consultant, circumstances meant Lucy had to fill in as head of the diagnostics department. Dr Lucy Wakefield, now Mrs Dalton, was respected and valued at work. Her colleagues were fantasticexcept, perhaps, for the elderly deputy chief, Mr Lionel Stephens. He was a world-class grumbler and drama-maker, happiest when causing a kerfuffle. Lucy tried her best not to be drawn into his outbursts, though only she knew how much it cost her.

The only consolation was that her run-ins with Mr Stephens were rareonly at the weekly doctors meetings when new patients diagnoses were discussed. Yet, these meetings were never pleasant.

Stephens often clashed with Lucy, making barbed comments. He saw that Dr Dalton brushed off his snide remarks, which only seemed to egg him on.

Hes impossible, she complained to her husband at dinner. He always seems determined to provoke me.

Im sure youll come out on top, Paul smiled. Youre diplomatic, far more than most.

Its true, Mum, agreed their thirteen-year-old son, Thomas. If you get fed up with medicine, you should be a diplomatthey get paid more anyway!

Ill bear it in mind, she laughed.

Lucy had always been diplomatic, but she was only human. Everyones patience has limits, and she sensed that sooner or later, her own would snapand for good reason.

At the next meeting, things started as usual. Lucy, as the treating consultant, presented the case of a woman in her sixties, who sat anxiously on the couch opposite. Typically, after the doctors report, if the patients condition allowed it, they left, and Lucy, her department head, and the deputy chief discussed the diagnosis privately.

But this time, things took a turn. The older woman asked in a trembling voice, Just tell me honestly, is it really serious? Will I recover? Im raising my orphaned granddaughter, you see.

Her voice quivered as though she might cry, so much hope shining in her worried eyes.

Lucy opened her mouth to offer reassurance, but Mr Stephens barked, With your diagnosis? Im afraid its so advanced that no sensible doctor would promise anything! What were you thinking, leaving it so long?

The patient was stunned, her lips trembling. But Mr Stephens pressed on:

I know your sort! First you ignore it, then self-medicate, and only come to us when its desperate! Were not miracle-workers…

The poor woman burst into tears and hurried out. Later, Lucy scolded herself for failing to rein Stephens inshed been utterly thrown. To shout at an elderly lady who already had so much to cope withhonestly, it wasnt right. The department head, too, frowned in disapproval.

Though both women, in truth, admitted Stephens had a point, they felt he could have expressed himself more kindlyat the very least, with some respect for the ladys age.

Lucy lost her temper. Enough was enough! She decided to tell him off.

Mr Stephens, with all due respect, how could you speak to her like that?

Whats wrong with what I said? he shrugged. Were not magicians. Patients need to realise that. Any illness is easier to treat earlyyou know that as well as I do.

Lucy grimaced at his smug expression. The department head clearly understood his satisfaction. Stephens seemed to think his provocation had succeeded. Lets see about that, thought Lucy.

Yes, youre right that early intervention gives us the best chance, she conceded, But you have no idea how much effort it took for me to persuade this woman to seek help. She finally believed things could get better! And you shattered that hope in an instant. Shame on you.

Stephens, caught off guard, tried to assert his authority, but realised quickly it was pointless. He had learned that Dr Dalton was not easily cowed and knew her worth.

He was still mutteringlouder than neededbut Lucy didnt hear. She had zoned out, watching as the department head left the room. Alone with Stephens, Lucy felt smotheredbeing stuck in the same room as the man was unbearable. No wonder he had a reputation as an energy vampire.

She stared blankly into the corner. Work seemed impossible.

Lucy wanted to cry, but she resolved, No, I wont give him the satisfaction. She moved to the window, then heard the door snap shut. Looking back, she realised she was alone.

She sat at her desk and opened her logbookno one had relieved her of her duties, after all.

Dr Dalton, came a timid voice. She looked up, surprised it belonged to Mr Stephensso uncharacteristic of him.

He had brought a small bottle of herbal extract, looking thoroughly embarrassed. Oddly, Lucy didnt feel triumphant. Instead, she felt a pang of sympathy for the man. Rumour had it he was lonelymaybe that explained his character.

Dr Dalton, here, take this, he said awkwardly. Andforgive me, if you can. Maybe you were right

You had a point, too, she replied kindly. But our job is to heal and to give people a glimmer of hope. Sometimes hope works wonders. You know that as well as I do.

Yes, yes, of course he mumbled.

Such a change in him was astonishing, but Lucy didnt have time to dwell. Best strike while the iron was hot.

Mr Stephens, she said, taking a deep breath, Please understand this: I will never let anyone raise their voice to me, nor question my abilities in front of a patient, whether its a cleaner or the Health Secretary himself.

Yes, Dr Dalton. I understand.

Good, thought Lucy, glancing at her watch. The day was only just beginning, and Lucy had plenty to do.

An hour later, she visited that same patient in her wardher name was Veronica Green. A bouquet of daffodils sat on Veronicas bedside table. The older lady smiled at Lucy.

Youll never believe ityour boss came to see me, she said. He brought these flowers and apologised, and he said, Well do everything in our power to help you get better.

Im glad to hear it, smiled Lucy and squeezed the ladys hand. We really will do everything we can. Youre a remarkable woman. Frankly, you could give the younger generation a run for their money.

Youre a tease! Veronica laughed.

A month later, Veronica was on the mend. On her discharge day, Mr Stephens brought her a box of expensive chocolates.

These are for you, he said shyly. For your granddaughter.

Oh, thank you! beamed the lady.

And these are for you, he added, handing Veronica a bouquet of red roses.

What beautiful flowers! Thank you so much! No one has brought me flowers in years. And to all the doctorsthank you for getting this old girl back on her feet.

Im almost tempted to say, Come and see us again, Stephens joked, but perhaps just as a visitor. Look after yourself!

Everyone nearby was stunned. Whats come over him? they wondered, since Stephens was famous for not uttering a single kind word, let alone two.

After that, relations between Lucy and Mr Stephens warmedif not exactly friends, they became friendly. They often shared a cup of coffee after meetings, sometimes bumping into each other at a café near the hospital.

Theres no happiness, is there? Stephens confided once. Maybe thats why Im hard to deal with. Lifes flown by, and I havent managed to do much.

How can you say that? Lucy replied, Youve got a senior post, and thats no small thing.

He nodded, True. But happiness is hard to catch. I had it once. It slipped away.

Lucy almost laughed, but caught herself. Hes confiding in me, she thought, and here I am

She began to realise she liked him, more than she expected.

Others at the hospital noticed the change in Mr Stephens. Yet none started rumoursDr Dalton didnt inspire that sort of gossip, and Mr Stephens was nobodys idea of a womaniser.

What have you done to him? asked nurse Helen at afternoon tea. Hes started smiling. Not often, but still

Every Friday, all the women of the stafffrom doctors to porterswould gather for tea. Everyone looked forward to it, baking scones and fairy cakes, frying drop scones and pies, and bringing out their best jam. The ritual took place in the hospital kitchen.

Now, as they sat with Helens plum jam, all eyes were on Lucy, half expecting her to reveal some great secret.

Oh, girls, theres no mystery, Lucy waved her hand. The answer is simple.

Oh, really? the coatroom lady, Mrs Rhodes, interjected sceptically.

I promise! It all depends on usself-confidence and self-respect are vital. You cant get far without them.

Thats easy for you doctors! said young cleaner Millie. But Im just the cleaner. When I see him, I just want to hide.

Dont say that, replied Lucy. Everyone has the right to self-respect, whether youre a cleaner or the chief of staff. And being confident never hurt anyone.

True enough, agreed Dr Gale, the psychiatrist. Especially with energy vampires. If they sense youre confident, they usually back offtheyve nothing to gain.

I think Mr Stephens is just a sad man, cook Barbara mused.

Everyone agreedexcept Lucy, who knew for sure.

Have I missed much? asked the out-of-breath storekeeper, Catherine.

No, just in time, smiled Dr Gale. Were talking Mr Stephens.

Oh, then youve heard the news!

What news? everyone cried at once.

Mr Stephens is getting married! Catherine announced.

No way!

Well, thats a surprise!

Hell will freeze over first! someone laughed.

Excited chatter filled the room.

Lucy, dont tell me you knew nothing about this, teased nurse Helen.

Not a thing, Lucy shook her head in surprise. We did talk a lot, but never about his love life.

Not surprising, stated psychologist Mrs May. People like him never show their human side.

Thats for sure, thought Lucy. He probably feels awkward. I wonder where the news came from. And who is he marrying?

Do you know who the bride is? asked Millie.

No idea, but apparently she used to be a patient, answered Catherine, pouring tea.

Really? Barbara criedand Lucy smiled, suddenly knowing exactly who the bride must be.

Doesnt such news deserve a better drink? she addressed her colleagues. Tea is fine, but surely a bottle or two of good wine is in order.

The vote was unanimous, and the women raised their glasses to the happiness and health of their once-grumpy colleague. Maybe being a newlywed would soften him a little?

The next day as Lucy sipped her coffee after rounds, Mr Stephens approachedthe beaming groom, shining like a newly polished coin. Lucy decided not to spoil his surprise.

Youre looking well, Mr Stephens, she smiled.

Feeling very well, he replied. Im getting married, Lucy.

Really? Lucy feigned astonishment. And whos the lucky lady? If you dont mind me asking.

A wonderful woman, he nodded. To me, the best in the world.

Who is she, thenor is it a secret?

No secret at all, he said. Im marrying Veronica. The patient you gave me a talking to about! I liked herso I made a move. I found her number and checked in on her, claimed it was a care follow-up.

You sly devil! Lucy laughed. Well, that is a splendid choice!

I think so, too. And pleasecome to the wedding, you and your family. Without you, Id never have met her. You really should have been a diplomat, Lucy.

Oh, come on! If its meant to be, people will find each other in the end.

Still, the compliment felt good.

Come the wedding, Mr Stephens looked quite dashing in his suit, and his bride was radiant. It was hard to believe this elegant ladyVeronica Greenwas the same anxious woman whod once pleaded for help more for her granddaughters sake than her own.

Now, Veronica had a sleek bob and glossy dark hair, easily looking a decade younger. She kept thanking Lucy all day.

As she watched them, Lucy reflected on it all. Life worked in mysterious wayssometimes adversity brought people together, and the smallest gesture of kindness could create miracles. The greatest gift, Lucy realised, was the hope we offer each other and the dignity to be ourselves, no matter our role or rank. Sometimes, healing wasnt just about medicine, but about caring enough to see the good in othersand helping them see it too.