Page 6 of An Enchanted Moment on Ever After Street
‘Don’t, please.’ I interrupt him because the panic of earlier has dampened down since we’ve been talking, but the thought of being alone out here stokes the flames again.
‘Why not? You surely know my reputation. Youwantto talk to me?’ The words are laced with contempt, and it makes me wonder if I’m more surprised that Scary Neighbour is talking to me… or if he’s more surprised thatI’mtalking tohim.
‘Would you like to come round? I can make a cuppa and there’s some biscui—’
‘No, thank you.’
I don’t think anyone’s ever sounded quite so horrified at the offer of tea and biscuits before. ‘Do you mind me asking why you’re so…’ I realise this is a sentence that could go badly wrong. What do I end it with? Standoffish? Rude? Shouty? So uninvolved with the rest of Ever After Street?
‘Reclusive?’ I eventually settle on. It seems the least offensive possibility.
‘Yes.’
‘Yes, you mind me asking?’
‘Yes.’
Okay then. I almost laugh at the awkwardness.
‘Does my shop name not give it away? I’m a beast. That’s why you never see me – and never will.’
I can’t help being taken aback by his sharp answer. He can’t mean that literally, can he? ‘But surely that’s just a rumour, made up because no one knows you. Everyone knows everyone else on this street, apart from you.’
‘People are entitled to be different.’
I stutter for an answer because while he’s not wrong, it’s just not how things are on Ever After Street. ‘There’s no requirement to make friends with the other shopkeepers, obviously.’
‘Good. Friends are a waste of time. They’ll do nothing but disappoint you in the end. Everyone is better off alone – anyone who thinks otherwise just hasn’t realised that simple truth yet.’
‘Wow.’ I’m surprised by how much his words pull at something deep in my chest. ‘That’s so sad.’
‘Not sad, just common sense. If you never form attachments to anyone, you never get hurt.’ He’s quiet for a moment. ‘And you never hurt them.’
There’s that hint of self-loathing again. Whoisthis guy? He seems angry and bitter, and yet he was kind enough to tell me about the dock leaves, throw me his thorn tweezers, and read the letter, and yet…
‘Why are you talking to me about all this anyway? Why not share it with your boyfriend?’
My head tilts in confusion. ‘I don’t have a boyfriend.’
‘Yeah, you do.’
‘I assure you, I do not. I think I’d know.’
‘That guy who always buys flowers for you.’
‘Oh! Rick!’ I do the bleat of annoyance that thinking of Rick always generates. ‘He’s not my boyfriend. He was, once. Hewasmy fiancé, until I caught him shagging my shop assistant in the romance section last year.’
Scary Neighbour laughs out loud, but it’s not an unkind laugh. ‘That seems like a very unromantic use of the romance section.’
‘The books thought so too! They were traumatised for life! I wasn’t too happy about it either. I sacked her and broke up with him, but he’s the kind of guy who doesn’t take no for an answer. He’s decided we were happy together and has vowed to win me back, which isnevergoing to happen.’
‘Good. He’s a smarmy twit who calls me Scary Neighbour and proudly taunts my CCTV cameras by not paying full price for his flowers.’
I cringe. Scary Neighbour ismynickname for him. Rick was never meant to say it to his face. Well, not literally. I don’t think anyone’s ever actually seen his face. ‘I’m so sorry. I don’t even want the flowers. I refuse them, and if he leaves them on my doorstep while I’m at work, I give them to my neighbour at home. Better she enjoys them than me be reminded of him every time I see them.’
‘You give away my flowers?’ He sounds mortally offended, and I can imagine his eyebrows have just shot up.
‘Not because of the flowers, because of the giver. No offence to your flowers, they’re always beautiful,he’sthe problem. And he always buys bouquets with lilies in them, and lilies are poisonous to cats. I told him multiple times while we were still dating but he never listens.’
