Page 29 of An Enchanted Moment on Ever After Street
‘Slipped something in my tea, more like,’ he mutters. ‘Hypnotism. Mind control. A magic spell. Poison. The possibilities are endless.’
‘Darcy! You might like the guy. Ali is lovely. He’s really clever, he’s a brilliant cook, his granddaughters loveBeauty and the Beast, and he likesThe Velveteen Rabbit, which I had to assume that you do too because you’ve been totally unforthcoming with any other info that may help. His wife died a few years ago and left him with a huge rose plant that’s taking over the garden and he doesn’t know how to take care of it. He’d love your advice. Please give this a chance.’
He paces back towards me and huffs in annoyance, and I’m pretty sure that behind the scarf and glasses, he’s glaring at me.
‘Hello, anyone home?’ Ali calls cheerfully, opening the back door of Darcy’s shop and coming out into the garden. ‘I did knock but no one answered, I thought you might already be out here, and here you are.’
Darcy makes a noise of indignation, like Ali has done something akin to entering the forbidden West Wing by inviting himself into The Beast’s Enchanted Rose Garden and coming to look for us.
‘Here we are!’ I overcompensate by throwing my arms out and nearly dropping my phone. ‘Thank you for coming! Ali, Darcy. Darcy, Ali. I know you already know each other but…’
It seems weird to introduce them. Both of them have worked on this street for longer than I have, but this is probably the first time they’ve progressed beyond a few grunts.
‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, friend.’ Ali has got a bottle of wine in one hand and he holds the other out for Darcy to shake, which he reluctantly does, and then Ali hands him the wine. ‘Just a little something to say thanks for having me over.’
Darcy takes it and puts it down on the table, right in the centre so it will block their view of each other.
‘Sit down,’ I say chirpily. ‘I’m just going to take a couple of snaps and I’ll make you cups of tea.’
‘This is a beautiful garden,’ Ali says as they both sit down, and I back away slowly, lurking behind the open gate with my phone, trying to get an artsy shot of the scene, two strangers at a table in a pretty garden. If I can show Mr Rowbotham that this is something A Tale As Old As Time could do on a regular basis, use books to bring people together, surely he would see that I have long-term plans for the futureanda reason to keep my garden as neatly maintained as Darcy’s is.
I take a few pictures. Darcy’s back is to me and from this angle, you wouldn’t know he was anything other than a man wearing a baseball cap on an autumn evening, and Ali has gone from looking around the garden in awe to listening intently to something Darcy is saying, and as much as Ireallywant to stay and eavesdrop, they deserve their privacy, and I reluctantly go back into the bookshop to make them a cup of tea each.
Unfortunately, the kettle hasn’t finished boiling before there’s the sound of yelling, and I race back down the stairs and skid round to Darcy’s garden in time to see Ali fleeing through the shop door as the bottle of wine hits the wall nanoseconds behind him, shattering into pieces and flooding the steps up to Darcy’s back door with red wine.
‘What are you doing? You can’t throw bottles of wine at people!’
‘I threw it beside him! I have a good aim, believe me, if I’d wanted to throw itathim, I would have!’ Darcy whirls roundto me, breathing hard under his disguise. ‘What the hell was I thinking in agreeing to this? What the hell wereyouthinking setting me up with that smug know-it-all?’
‘Ali’s nothing like that!’
‘Look at that bloody insult!’ He throws a hand out towards the spilled red wine, dripping forlornly down from the top step to the one below. ‘He was trying to gawp at me! Trying to get me drunk in the hopes I might loosen up and give him a good look!’
‘Oh, come on. He was being polite. It’s nice to bring a gift when someone invites you into their home! There’s no way he had any intention of you sharing it there and then! He’s working tonight. It’s the busiest time at the restaurant, but he left someone else in charge so he could come when our shops are closed foryourconvenience!’
Darcy mutters a string of expletives, still pacing angrily. I stay quiet for a few moments and then approach him, trying to be gentle. I wasn’t here – who knows what was said or done. I’m assuming Darcy is overreacting, but he deserves the benefit of the doubt.
I reach out, trying to put my hand on his arm comfortingly, to show I’m on his side. ‘What did he say?’
He yanks his arm out of my reach and then turns to stare in my direction. ‘He assumed I was a burn victim and started mansplaining how to treat burn scars. I don’t know if you can be mansplained to while actually being a man, but he managed it. Patronising pillock.’
‘Are younota burn victim?’ I snap, because Darcy was determined to be insulted bysomethingtonight, no matter what it was.
He stares at me again, and I fold my arms and pull myself up straighter, challenging him with my eyes. We dance around and around the reason he wears that disguise, but I’ve never had the courage to ask him outright before.
He swallows hard. ‘No, I’m not.’
‘Well, that’s what everyone thinks. If you don’t want people to make assumpt—’
‘Everyone has no business thinking anything. What I wear is no concern of anyone else’s.’
I go to snap a response, but it’s undeniably true. I take a few breaths because I’m getting as het-up as he is. ‘Iknow that, butyouknow what small places like this are like. Everyone knows everyone else, and believe it or not, people worry about you.’
‘I don’t deserve anyone to worry about me.’ He snarls the words instantly, and then takes a step backwards and lets out a breath when he seems to realise what he’s said.
That ‘deserve’ thing again. Something happened to Darcy, of that I have no doubt, but it was something that left him feeling like he doesn’t deserve to be part of the world, so he exists on the outskirts, staying away from people, and covering up whatever scars it left him with… to avoid attention? Or to avoid anyone caring about him?
‘Thisis exactly why I avoid people,’ he barks before I can come up with a response. ‘Thank you for showing me that isnota mistake.’
