Page 25 of A Wonderland Wish on Ever After Street
He picks up a set of car keys and opens the front door, and I step out and stand aside as he locks up.
‘You’re really different than I thought you’d be,’ I say as we walk down the steps.
And right on cue, he jumps off the steps from the third up, lands with a pirouette and a splash of gravel under his feet and spins around. ‘I’m still going to drive you up the wall at work tomorrow.’
I meet his eyes and smile. ‘Wouldn’t have it any other way.’
He walks backwards across the courtyard without dropping eye contact as he grins at me, and this time, it’s very much a Bram grin and not a Hatter one.
8
‘How can there be someone new starting?’ Bram says when I fill him in on the phone call from Mr Hastings last night, informing me that he’d hired a new member of staff for the tearoom and to expect them today. ‘Doing what? Playing another character?’
‘I don’t know, but at least he told me this time,’ I say, even though an unexpected call from Mr Hastings on a Sunday evening did nothing for my cardiac health. We don’t need a new member of staff – Bram and I have been managing just fine, but Mr Hastings was unnervingly cagey when I tried to question him, and now it’s Monday morning and I’m wondering what he’s got lined up for us.
The Wonderland Teapot has been open for two weeks today. The days are whizzing past and I simultaneously can’t believe it’s been two weeks already and that it’s only been two weeks, because it’s starting to feel like I’ve nevernotbeen here, in a good way.
I’ve hidden away from life for so long and not met many people. I wasn’t sure about how well I’d cope with being thrust headfirst into a customer-facing role, but it’s been a welcome reminder of the times when I used to be happy, and how much I loved the tearoom I grew up in. Our customers are lovely. Almost everyone hasembraced the madness of The Wonderland Teapot and been very complimentary, from people who love the books and films and get all the references in the décor, to people who just pop in for a cup of tea and don’t expect the sensory assault of colour and weird things, and leave saying it’s inspired them to read the book.
And then there’s Bram, who makes every day pass in a blur of colour and jokes and producing things from the bottomless caverns that seem to exist behind most people’s ears.
There have been afternoon teas and a couple more Unbirthday parties, and he’s let me come over each night and use his kitchen, with varying degrees of disaster. I seem to be the exception to the ‘practice makes better’ idea, although he hasn’t given up on me yet.
Between us, we made an apple pie and a batch of butterfly cakes yesterday, but not enough to fill the entire display case, so we’re still relying on supermarket-bought goods too. It’s quarter to nine and we’re standing side by side, decorating the raspberry and white chocolate cupcakes we bought last night. I’ve got a piping bag of red butter icing, and he’s got one in white, and we’re piping rose-shaped swirls onto each one, and it’s been surprisingly nice to share the burden with someone. It really has started to feel like we’re in this together and I have a niggling feeling that The Wonderland Teapot is only as special as it is because of what the Mad Hatter brings to it. I’m just a woman wearing an Alice dress, but heisthe Mad Hatter. I struggle to find the confidence to engage with people like he does, but he’s got time for every customer, and I’m starting to wonder how I would ever have done this without him.
‘At least they’re early,’ I say at the sound of a knock on the door and go over to open it, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling of Mr Hastings hiring yet another employee without my permission. Having the decency to inform me beforehand only makes me feel slightly less undermined than last time.
The woman standing outside the door is wearing a ruffled redballgown, poorly hidden under a jacket, with a bright red wig and a gold crown. ‘Let me guess, the Queen of Hearts?’
‘Hello. Tabby. I believe you’re expecting me?’ She does a curtsey for me to admire her huge dress, and holds a hand out. At first I think she’s inviting me to kiss it, but really she’s showing off her red-jewelled rings and the red heart-shaped tips on her stiletto-pointed false nails. ‘Off with everyone’s heads!’
‘Indeed.’ Everything about her has set me on edge, and I can’t help feeling annoyed that I, once again, don’t have any control over who works inmyshop. Are random people playing Wonderland characters just going to keep rocking up until the Teapot is so full with employees that there won’t be any space for the customers?
‘You’d better come in.’ I have to give her a chance, don’t I? I thought Bram wouldn’t be an asset at first too, and I was wrong on that front. Customers are loving the Mad Hatter, maybe they’ll also love the Queen of Hearts and enjoy the fully immersive Wonderland experience.
Tabby follows me into the café and stops to look around, and I’m reminded of Bram’s reaction on the first day, his glee and joyfulness, and how it’s the complete opposite of the sneer that darkens her face.
‘Oh, how charming.’ It’s said with a patronising tone and sounds like the way she might critique a nursery school child’s proudly presented first finger painting.
Bram’s gone out the back and stops abruptly when he comes back in, and a stormy look instantly clouds his face. ‘Tabby? What thehellare you doing here?’ His face turns from a storm cloud to confusion. ‘Are you here to see me?’
‘I work here now.’ She smiles a smug smile in his direction. ‘Part time. I’m far too busy to commit to a full-time role.’
‘You… work… here?’ His mouth opens and closes likehe doesn’t know what to say. Quite a feat for someone who chats non-stop, whether there’s anyone listening or not. ‘Since when?’
‘Since this morning. Mr Hastings hired me.’ Tabby shrugs the jacket off her shoulders and then holds it out to me, like she’s expecting me to hang it up for her.
‘The staffroom and bathroom are upstairs.’ I pretend not to have understood her hint, and she huffs the layered fringe of her red wig upwards.
‘Did you know I’d be here?’ Bram asks her.
‘Of course. Your father told me.’
‘Why the hell are you still in touch with my father? We broke up two years ago!’
Ahh, and there was me, just about to ask how they know each other. I might have wondered about what kind of person Bram would date, but I didn’t want to actually meet one, live in living colour. Is this the same ex he mentioned the other night? Because she didn’t sound great, to be fair…
‘I can still be civil to people from the past, Bram. He was nearly my father-in-law. Relationships don’t simply disappear on your whims.’
