Page 69 of An Enchanted Moment on Ever After Street
‘Howcouldyou?’ I bark at him. ‘Do you know what you’ve done? You had no right to take away his autonomy like that. That was unforgivable.’
‘Unforgiveable? Me? What haveIdone?’ Rick gives me the worst innocent look since Boris Johnson claimed to have been ambushed by a birthday cake. ‘He punched me! I could have him done for assault!’
‘You can’t do that to another person, Rick! Darcy wore that mask for deep-seated and personal reasons. It wasn’t up to you to decide when to take it off.’ I look towards the open doorway,hoping that Witt has caught up with him. ‘He’s going to be devastated. That was the worst thing you could ever have done to him.’
‘Good. He deserves to have his ugliness laid bare for all to see.’ Rick does another nonchalant shrug.
Ali has gone out to the foyer and is shrugging on a coat, presumably also going after Darcy as thunder crashes again, reflecting my building anger at the smug git in front of me. ‘That gorgeous man deserves the world. He deserves people who love him, understand him, and respect him.Youdon’t love, understand, or respect anyone, and it makes you a sad, horrible person.’
‘You can’t say that to me after everything I’ve done for you. You owe me for making this weekend a success!’
I was about to go out into the night after Darcy and Mrs Potts, but I spin around, the skirt of my dress hitting someone dressed in the red robes and white bonnet of a handmaid as I turn so sharply. ‘What?’
‘The article inThe Wye Word. You know, the one that got yousooomuch attention and let all these wonderful people know about your little book festival and sold the rest of the tickets you were struggling to shift?’
I’d momentarily forgotten that we’ve got an audience and him pointing them out makes me self-conscious again. ‘I wasn’t str—’
‘You can thank me for that.’ He puts a hand on his chest and bows proudly.
‘That was you?’ I don’t wait for him to respond before answering the question for myself. ‘Of course it was you. I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before. I thought that was Darcy – that he’d tried to do something nice and the journalist had twisted his words, but it wasn’t, was it? No one needed to twist your words because they were already twisted. I should have known. Thatwhole article absolutely smacked of your disdainful attitude. When did you manage to take the photos in the shop without me knowing? How did you know about U.N.Known’s emails?’
‘That night I came by for a picnic and you disappeared. I wondered where the heck you’d got to and came looking. Your laptop was open on the counter, all I had to do was wiggle the mouse and your inbox was on the screen for anyone to see. I assumed you’d gone home, but now I’m guessing you abandoned me in favour of your “Scary Neighbour” instead.’
‘Heis not scary, but you… you’re bloody terrifying. Terrifyinganddeluded.’
‘He looked pretty scary to me when that mask came off!’
‘Scared, Rick, not scary! He’s scared of being rejected because of his scars. Scared of being laughed at. Scared of being publicly humiliated, like he has been before.’
‘Oh, boo hoo. Guess what, Marnie? I don’t care. I can offer you so much more than he ever can.’
‘I don’t wantanythingfrom you! You’ve done more than enough damage for one lifetime!’
‘How about a nice little wedding present?’ He drops down onto one knee again. ‘A little bookshop. They call it A Tale As Old As Time. I hear it’s going up for sale shortly. Say yes and it’s yours.’
Is he for real? Is he seriously deluded enough to think that would sway me? ‘Never in a million years.’
‘You’ll never scrounge up a deposit without me. You know you won’t. Scraping and scrabbling for change, maybe begging the bank to give you a loan, whereas I can – and will – buy it for you outright, and—’
I’ve heard more than enough. ‘When you’ve quite finished humiliating me about my financial situation in public… It’s just a shop. Bricks and mortar. It doesn’t matter. People are what matters. The people I love. And what you’ve just done to the manI love is unforgivable. This is the end of everything. We’re done. Never, ever contact me again.’ I hadn’t even realised I’d made it directly to the front of the stage, until I turn around and find the crowd of onlookers gathered behind me, and I have to push through them to get to the door.
‘He complained about you!’ he calls after me.
‘I don’t care, Rick!’ I turn back to face him one last time. ‘Everything about him is the best thing that’s ever happened to me! Including the complaint. Because you’re right, none of us would be here without that, and I’m glad that we are. That complaint shoved me outside of my comfort zone and showed me I can do things that I thought I’d never have the courage to do. Without Darcy, Iwouldn’tever have had the courage to do them. It doesn’t matter that he complained about me. I’ve come to love the outdoors, to really appreciate the value of nature. I’ve got an incredible garden that’s only going to add to the atmosphere of the bookshop next spring. All of that is because of Darcy.’
I can’t waste any more time on Rick. The weather is horrific and both Darcy and Mrs Potts are out there in it somewhere. And I need to find them.
20
Lightning blazes across the sky as I get outside the castle and race down the walled stone walkway towards the Full Moon Forest, and it’s followed seconds later by a clap of thunder that’s so near, it sounds like the sky is going to fall down, and I try not to think about how scared Mrs Potts must be, or what could have happened to her in this.
The Full Moon Forest splits in two – the nice part, full of fairy sculptures and solar-powered flowers that leads back to Ever After Street, and the other part that blankets the castle from the right side, twisting around the river that rages through it, covering the area behind our shops and leading the way through to the row of cottages on the other side where I live, and although I have no idea which way Darcy could’ve gone, I think he’d have taken the familiar route, the quiet paths between our shops and the castle, where people rarely venture thanks to the muddy pathways and ferocious drops into the river.
I didn’t bother to stop for a coat, and the rain is coming down in vicious sheets, stinging the bare skin of my shoulders like needles. Another flash of lightning turns the sky white, and thunder crashes immediately afterwards.
Poor Mrs Potts! I’m never going to forgive myself if anything happens to her.
Mud covers my once-yellow dress and the rain soaks the fabric, weighing it down as I try to run through the trees but my slip-on flat shoes sink into sludgy puddles with every step. ‘Darcy! Mrs Potts!’
