Page 18 of An Enchanted Moment on Ever After Street
He guffaws. Really truly laughs, like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard. ‘Who am I to argue with that?’
I go back to chomping through stinging nettles, enjoying the satisfaction of watching the sharp blades of the shears slice through thick stalks and the plants that seemed so overwhelming becoming nothing more than a limp pile on the ground.
‘Don’t you ever miss getting lost in a good book?’ I ask because curiosity will always get the better of me. ‘The world is hellish and books are nice. Everyone deserves that escape.’
‘Not monsters like me.’
I can’t work him out. Is he serious? Is hereallysome kind of beast? Something that shouldn’t exist in this world but somehow does? Or is it more metaphorical? I go back to what he said about life spitting him out. Does he feel like a monster because of something that’s happened to him? ‘Books are magical. They have power. A book can show you how the worldcouldbe. Everyone deserves to know the joy of getting lost inside one. Especially someone who sounds like the one thing they desperately need is to get out of their own head for a while.’
I could be pushing it. I’m only guessing at what’s going on with Darcy and our friendship still feels fragile and like if I push him too far, he’ll walk away and never come outside again.
He grunts in response, and while I think it was meant to be evasive, it sounds a little bit like he wants to believe me, and I can’t help grinning to myself as I go back to chopping down weeds.
Maybe, just maybe, no one is really a lost cause when it comes to books.
5
‘Two tickets to the book festival, please!’ a husband and wife say as she puts a ten-pound note on the counter. I went with selling tickets for a fiver each, because although extra income would be nice, it’s more important to show that A Tale As Old As Time can bring people to Ever After Street than it is to earn money. There will be time for earning money later, but if I don’t convince Mr Rowbotham and the council to give my shop another chance, then it’s all over anyway.
A few tickets have sold online since I put them up a few days ago, but this is my first in-person ticket sale, and I’m not sure who’s more excited – me or the woman bouncing on her feet as she waits for me to get two book-shaped tickets out and scribble their names on them. ‘I’ve always wanted to go to a book festival but they’re so far away.’
‘That’s exactly why we’re doing it.’ I try to project confidence rather than letting out a sob and thanking her like Grateful McGratefulson.
Excitement is fizzing through me as they leave. This could actually work out. I’ve struggled to muster up excitement for anything lately, but this festival makes it feel like Mum is stillwith me, supporting this idea that we never got around to doing together.
The thrill lasts until Rick saunters in, a bunch of flowers grasped in his fist.
‘Not today, thanks, go away.’ I try to be polite, but every day without Rick is a good day, and today has rapidly turned into a bad one.
He stayed away for months after we split up, but then he came back, saying life wasn’t the same without me. I was touched at first. I’d felt so lonely since Mum died and Rick had loved her too. Someone to reminisce with was nice. But that encouraged him, made him think there was a chance for reconciliation, and he hasn’t given up on that idea yet.
‘For you.’ He crosses one hand across his wide chest and bows while holding the flowers out to me with his other hand.
They arenotDarcy’s flowers. They look like a mix of weeds and grass, and they really… smell. And not in the traditional way. ‘Where on earth did you get those? It looks like you picked them from the roadside.’
‘I did pick them from the roadside. And some from the window box outside that old biddy’s tearoom.’
‘You can’t do that! Lilith works hard on those flower boxes. God knows how she’s managed to keep them flowering into October.’
‘Don’t worry, she’d never be fast enough to catch me, she’s really old.’
Was he always this disrespectful? He was wonderful to my mum, a prince among men, but I still haven’t worked out if he’s changed since our break up or if he was always like this and I was too caught up in Mum’s illness to notice. ‘They smell of dog’s pee and exhaust fumes.’ I ignore the childish urge to add, ‘And so do you.’ Because he doesn’t. He smells of his usual £400-a-bottle aftershave, of course.
‘I had to improvise. Can you believe that weirdo next door refused to let me in?’
‘I’m not surprised when you’re stealing flowers from him. You’re lucky he hasn’t called the police.’
I shouldn’t have said that in case he wonders how I know, but he’s too wound-up to listen. ‘As I went to walk in, he appeared from nowhere, full scarf and glasses nonsense on, blocked the door, and told me I wasn’t welcome. I’ll give that pathetic recluse a reason to make me unwelcome!’ Rick’s nasally voice rises as he shakes his fist at the wall between us and The Beast’s Enchanted Rose Garden.
He lays the raggedy bundle of flowers on the counter, and then leans on his elbows and reaches a hand out towards me like he’s going to stroke my face. I step back sharply. ‘We’re not together any more.’
‘No, but we could be…’ he says hopefully, and then sighs when I don’t immediately fall into his arms. ‘Why are you doing this? Don’t push me away too. We were supposed to get married. We still could. Give your mum the day she always dreamed of seeing…’
Andthat, right there, is exactly why I’m ‘doing this’. Yes, my mum loved him, and the fact he thinks he can win me back by reminding me of that constantly is one of the many, many reasons I don’t want anything more to do with him, even though there are many women who wouldkillto have him bringing them flowers, even roadside ones.
Rick isgorgeous. The kind of gorgeous that makes you wonder what he’s doing walking around amongst us mere mortals when he should be in his boxer shorts on a Calvin Klein billboard, or at the very least, a Hollywood leading actor. Tall, dark-haired, and handsome, with green eyes usually only seen in Disney cartoon heroes, huge muscles, a perfectly sculpted body… and an ego that outsizes the solar system.
He was so exciting, once. He’s a Michelin-starred chef with his own catering business, important clients, and invitations to fancy, celebrity-filled events. He’s outgoing, loud, and confident – the opposite of me. Every day was a new adventure in our year-long relationship.
