Page 4 of A Midnight Kiss on Ever After Street
Scarlett rolls her eyes.
‘I’ll be over with the measurements and design sketches on my way home from the airport. Make sure you’ve got the coffee on, Sadie, it’s going to be a long night.’
She ends the call before I can protest again. I let out another groan and my head drops forward until my forehead bangs against the front window, my eyes on an ice sculpture of the Eiffel Tower as a team of decorators wheel it past.
‘Isn’t the universe a wonderful thing?’
‘What?’ I ask Scarlett without lifting my head.
‘Sadie! Tell me that’s not a sign! Her flight’s delayed! You have until midnight! It doesn’t get much more Cinderella-like than that. And you know what Cinderella did at midnight?’
‘Ended up face down in a puddle when her pumpkin exploded, with nothing but a shoe full of mice to show for her troubles?’
‘Well, yes, but not before going to a magical ball and falling in love with a handsome prince. And you, Sadie Winters, are going to that ball.’
‘I can’t,’ I say, even though my heart rate has sped up at the thought. ‘It’s not even about Ebony. What about the others? I’ve worked with most of these shopkeepers for years – they’re my friends. I can’t let the side down.’
‘Oh yes, you can.’ Scarlett sounds so much like a pantomime character that I ready myself for a chorus of ‘it’s behind you’, and when I push away from the window and turn to look at her, she’s got a mask dangling from her fingers. ‘Because absolutely no one is going to know it’s you. They call it a masquerade ball for a reason. You’ll be anonymous. Now, I have a hairdressing client this evening, so get over here and let me work my magic on you because youaregoing to that ball. We’re going to make you into the most Cinderellery Cinderella who ever Cinderellered. Just call me your fairy godmother. Well, cousin. Fairy godcousin. Minus a magic wand and any unusual fascination with pumpkins.’
* * *
‘What have you done to me?’ It’s the first time in over two hours that Scarlett’s let me look into a mirror, and I look like a totally different person. Gone is my mass of blonde messy curls, and it’s been replaced by straightened hair which looks so much longer than it is. Usually my curls are a springy mass around my shoulders, but having straightened them, my hair is long and sleek and reaches halfway down my back. Scarlett’s added some brighter blonde clip-in hair extensions to liven up my natural dark blonde colour and they blend in perfectly with my now-straight hair. My plain, unmemorable face is glowing with make-up. Every little acne scar, every line, and every pore has been concealed, smoothed over, and perfected. I never wear make-up, it’s too much hassle, but Scarlett’s been dabbing and patting at my face for ages, and she’s used highlighters and blusher that make me look like I have actual cheekbones, and a mix of eyeshadow shades from brown to grey that surround my eyes and make them pop with perfectly flicked dark lines of liquid eyeliner.
While Scarlett stands behind me, adding the last few sparkly pins to my half-up do, I pick up the mask and hold it to my face. It covers from my forehead down to just under my nose, with holes for the eyes and nostrils. It’s made of a beautiful light blue leather with navy blue swirls, silver accents, and the dramatic shape of raven wings form the edges. We do the kind of occasion wear that might require a matching mask sometimes, so we always have a few samples lying around the shop, but I never imagined thatIwould have occasion to wear one.
No one will recognise me, that’s for certain. Even without the mask, I’m a distant relation to my usual drab self. I wear nothing but oversized shirts and trousers with lots of pockets at work, and rarely manage to get my hair under control.
Guilt nibbles at my ankles about ignoring Ebony’s strict orders though, and about Ever After Street itself. This is the furthest thing from a united front. ‘What about the other shopkeepers? Your mum’s right. We have to protest against the sale of the castle.’
‘It’s just a ball. Going doesn’t mean you agree with a supermarket buying it. Like when you were a child and someone’s mum made them invite everyone in the class to their birthday party. You didn’t have to like the kid – but you liked birthday cake, and that was as good a reason as any to go.’
‘I don’t think there’s going to be birthday cake there.’
She huffs so hard that it blows her pink-tipped fringe up from her forehead. ‘You know what I mean, Sade. You’ve loved that castle since we were little.’
‘It’s been nice to see a light on in there this week. It’s like the castle is alive again, like it’s been sitting there, forgotten, and now someone’s remembered it. And instead of bringing it back to life, they’re going to kill it,’ I add when I think about the real reason behind the glitz of the ball.
‘I think we need a quick word about the sentience of old buildings. It isn’t alive. The light is probably to deter burglars now they’ve taken down the blockades. Ooh, unless it’s a prince!’
I laugh. ‘I don’t think it’s a prince, Scar.’
‘Well, you never know, do you? It’s the kind of fairy-tale castle that should have a prince. Maybe you’ll meet him tonight. A literal Prince Charming.’
‘Pretty sure Prince Charming neither exists nor hangs out at fairy-tale masquerade balls in the lower Wye Valley. That would be far too cliché. Besides, our only princes are Wills and Harry and neither of them do anything for me.’ I shudder at the thought. ‘If anyone is staying there, it’s more likely to be the ghost of some long-dead viscount returned from the grave to show his displeasure at the castle being sold.’
‘Whoever it is, he’s going to see you naked if we don’t get a move on.’ She checks the time on her phone. ‘Oh, heck, I’m going to be late for my client. Can you get dressed by yourself?’
I nod. ‘Of course, go.’
‘You know which dress you’re going to wear?’
I haven’t stopped thinking about it since the moment I saw that invitation. Hidden in my flat upstairs are many dresses, ones that I sew in my spare time. Dresses that I dream of filling The Cinderella Shop with one day. Fairy-tale dresses that would make any woman feel like a princess. The opposite of what I have to make under Ebony’s instructions. A hidden collection that my aunt must never know about.
‘Good.’ Scarlett steps back and we both stare at the mirror. I look nothing like myself. I’ve never looked this good in my life before. I wouldn’t be out of place if I really was Cinderella going to the prince’s ball and a fairy godmother really had given me a magical makeover.
‘You look so much like your mum, it’s unreal,’ Scarlett murmurs. ‘This is just how I remember her. Effortlessly glamorous, like she belonged in a fairy tale.’
‘You’ve been working on me for hours. I’m not sure that counts as effortless glamour.’ We both laugh, but neither of our eyes leave the mirror. How much I look like my mum and how much trouble Scarlett has gone to so I can go tonight are making tears threaten to rise up, but I can’t cry and ruin this make-up. ‘One thing my mum never had was a fairy godcousin though.’ I turn around and hug Scarlett. ‘Thank you.’
