Page 48 of A Midnight Kiss on Ever After Street
‘How dare you? I trusted you, Sadie. I can’t believe you’d be so underhanded. If you want to change the way things are run, you talk to me about it.’
‘I’ve tried! Multiple times. You brush me off and never listen.’
‘You must’ve been itching for me to get out the door. I bet you were watching at the window for my car to disappear from view so you could put your greedy little plan into action.’
‘Nothing like that. It wasn’t planned. It was spur of the moment and my mind ran away with the possibilities.’ My hands are shaking and I can’t get my head around how she thinks the worst of me. Is she really so blind to the state the shop is in andwhyit’s in that position?
‘Something ran away all right – your sanity would be my guess. I’m beyond disappointed. Never thought I’d see the day.’ She continues muttering to herself, as if I can’t hear every derogatory comment. ‘First thing tomorrow morning, we’ll put it all back right. I want you on the shop floor by six o’clock to undo all the damage you’ve done before opening time. I will not lose another minute of custom to your “big ideas”.’ She does the inverted commas with her fingers, just in case her tone wasn’t enough to convey what she thinks of my ‘big ideas’.
‘No.’ I fold my arms, probably made less threatening by the panda-print fluffy dressing gown, but still. Maybe it’s good that Scarlett’s not here. This has been coming for alongtime. Usually Scarlett diffuses arguments, but when it’s just the two of us, wehaveto hear each other, don’t we?
‘No?’ she repeats, mere seconds away from an explosion.
‘We’re not going back. We’re going to carry on as we have been for the past couple of weeks. This was my parents’ shop and I get a say in how we do things. I’ve proved that my ideas have merit.’
‘You’ve proved that you have no respect for our customers. Our guarantee makes us stand out from the crowd and attract more high-end buyers – it doesnotmake us pass on their exclusive dresses to the next bidder, like some real-life version of eBay!’
‘Our guarantee makes us numpties. Naïve numpties. It makes no difference to the original buyers if a dress is rotting in our storeroom or making someone else’s life better. If they cared that much, they wouldn’t have returned it, would they?’ Witt said something similar to me two weeks ago, and using his words makes me feel like he’s beside me.
I look up at the light glowing from the castle again. Silent strength on the hill above us, a constant in my life. All the years I’ve watched it, never knowing that my mum’s dresses were still inside, waiting to be discovered again. And then there’s Witt.
Clinging onto his belief in me makes me realise how much I desperately want that from Ebony. I want her to like the dresses I make. I want her to believe that customers might like them, but she never does. I’ve always thought that one day, I would do something good enough to earn her respect. I’d make such a beautiful dress that she’d realise I’m not a child waiting to be ‘deemed ready’, but an adult who knows what she’s doing and is capable of running a business on my own. And it’s started to feel like she never will, and I’m starting to wonder how much more of my life I can spend here, waiting for something that is never going to happen.
‘The second-chance ball is in two weeks and our dresses are flying off the shelves. We’re going to keep the shop as it is until then. You have to give it a fair shot.’
‘You’re going to tell me what to do, are you?’
‘You haven’t been here. You’re off sunning yourself here, there, and everywhere. Hair appointments, nail appointments, cruises, foreign trips to chase after some uninterested celebrity or another. You have no clue how this place needs to be run because you’re never here. I see the day-to-day customers and what they want. For once,youare going to listen tome. If we carry on for a couple more weeks, we might even earn enough to cover the expense of the cruise you’ve fraudulently charged to our business account.’
Just when I thought she couldn’t get any shriekier, she screeches, ‘Fraud!’
‘Last time I checked, reasonable business expenses didnotstretch to luxury cruises. And how did you get on with the elusive social media influencer?Isshe going to showcase our products on her channels?’
‘Ah. Well, about that…’ She sputters to a halt. ‘She’s considering it. She’s asked us to make seven dresses, one for every day of the week, and then she’ll decide.’
‘You’re kidding.’
‘She has to test our products properly first. She has integrity – she won’t put her name behind just any brand, she has toloveit. Her fans appreciate that.’
‘So, let me get this straight, you’re expecting me to makesevendresses for absolutelynopayment in the vague hopes that shemightdeign herself to give us a quick mention on her socials?’
‘It could be a turning point for us.’
I’m so fed up of hearing that sentence. Does Ebony even know how often she says it? Every single whim of hers is the next ‘turning point’. Since she’s been away, we’ve made our own turning point, and I’mproudof that, even if it means upsetting her. ‘No. No, it won’t, because itneveris. We don’t need to be loved by someone with millions of Instagram followers – we need to be loved by the people who come to Ever After Street and want to go home with a dress that makes them feel special. And for the first time, that’s what’s happening. So no to your social media influencer. No, no, and seven times no.’
She blinks as though she can’t comprehend the word.
‘In two weeks, we’ve taken almost as much as we took in six months last year.I’vedone that, with help from people who believe in me. I deserve a chance to see how this pans out, and I’m not going back to the way things were. We’re making people happy. You say happiness doesn’t pay the bills, but we’re proving that it can. If you don’t believe me, check the accounts, and you’ll see. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going back to bed. You have no right to come here ranting and raving at this time of night. Goodnight.’
‘Sadie!’ she screams as I close the door on her and lock it. She hammers again but I ignore her.
My hands are still shaking as I trudge back up the stairs. I’ve certainly just thrown away any chance I had of taking over The Cinderella Shop, and probably tossed my relationship with my aunt in the wheelie bin right along with it, but it feels empowering to flick the light off while she’s still banging on the door.
That needed to be said, even if it’s changed my life forever. And she’s no less likely to give me the shop now, because she was never likely to give it to me in the first place, and if this is it, if she sacks me and throws me out, then I’ll find somewhere else. There’s a market for the dresses I make – the last few weeks have taught me that. If I have to start anew, then I will, just like my mum did all those years ago.
I hear the shop door opening below, and I have a brief fear that she’s going to put things back as they were by herself, using her anger to fuel her, but she leaves again within a few minutes, presumably with the till rolls and the accounts file.
As her car pulls away, I stand at my bedroom window and look up at the castle, a single glow on the mountainside.
