"I need to talk with you," he pleaded as I strutted away, nose in theair and knuckles tight about the strap of my handbag. Yes, I wascarrying a handbag by then - a single, very small concession to playingfemale: pockets in women's trousers weren't big enough for anything!Some edge of desperation in his voice caught at me and against my bestintentions I turned and faced him, arms folded, a sceptical sneerarranged on my face.He was so surprised I'd stopped he blundered forward a couple of paces."Talk then," I snapped."Not here," he shook his head and to see my body, my face, made alien bythe stranger wearing it almost made me stamp my foot with outrage."I've got nothing to say to you." Kirsty! Can't we have a coffee or something?" There was real pleadingin those eyes of mine."After what you did to me!" I didn't start this off." You set him on me."He closed his eyes, his shoulders went down. "I didn't mean for that tohappen." Say it." What?" Say it. Say what he did to me. Then you can. And so it came to pass, that they sailed into Honeycomb Harbour. The Gingerbread Man saw a great many sights, and heard wondrous things, as he jumped ashore, which would make a story book all of their own. And, following directions from a kindly-looking Butterscotch Wheel, he walked up the road to Honeypuff Palace.When he reached Honeypuff Palace, he was awed and amazed. Bigger than any building he had ever seen, the golden gates were decorated with chocolate drops and honey cakes, and the walls were made of enormous slabs of honeycomb, with cherry cement and dustings of rainbow sherbert.There was so much traffic coming from and going to the palace, that he was not sure what he was supposed to do. He spied a large, surly-looking White Sugar Cookie Man, all decorated in official-looking gilt icing, standing by the gate, writing on a sugar wafer clipboard.“Excuse me, please,” said the Gingerbread Man, shyly. “I had a letter from the Fairy Gingermother, asking me to come to her home. And.
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