Page 27 of A Wonderland Wish on Ever After Street
‘You know something’s a terrible idea when it rhymes,’ Bram interjects.
‘Well, my bid was unfortunately rejected, and as Mr Hastings was telling me about this place, I thought thatwhat any Wonderland needs is a Queen of Hearts, and I wanted to show Mr Hastings there are no hard feelings and that I can be a valuable asset to Ever After Street too, and maybe next time, my bid won’t be rejected when an opening comes up on the street.’
‘You’re trying to prove you can play nice with other children,’ Bram says. ‘I don’t know what you think you’re going to get out of this. They’ll never agree to a wellness retreat here, it’s the least fitting thing I can possibly imagine for Ever After Street. This is a place where children come to believe in magic. Children arenotthe target audience for yoga and spa days. Acupuncture for five-year-olds will never catch on. Chemical peels? Eyebrow threading? Back waxes for seven-year-olds?’
‘You are never too young to start looking after yourself,’ she trills. ‘Mr Hastings thinks it’s a wonderful idea but he was outvoted by his fellow councillors.’
She puts a strange emphasis on ‘Mr Hastings’ every time she says his name and I’m not sure why. ‘I agree with Bram, it’s?—’
‘No one haseveragreed with Bram.’
I glance up at him. The Hatter grin is plastered onto his face and it looks like he’s fighting to keep it there. Discomfort and defensiveness are pouring off him in waves. He’s still standing near enough that I can nudge my foot against his behind the counter without her noticing. ‘Well, I do. We have Rapunzel’s hair salon – they have a niche of doing Disney princess hairstyles for children and doing adult haircuts as well. A wellness retreat is an adult thing. It would never work on Ever After Street.’
‘We’ll see. I have plenty of ideas. I’m a trained beauty therapist and yoga practitioner, and this place is an untapped customer base. Think of how many knackered parents come here. They must be crying out for beauty treatments. Parents always forget to take care of their own needs and deserve a bit of pampering. For a price, of course.’
‘Are you also going to open a childcare centre? Because most of those knackered parents have got youngsters in tow and there’s nowhere to leave them and pop off for a quick hour of relaxation.’
‘I don’t know,’ she says with a huff.
‘You can burn that bridge when you come to it,’ Bram mutters, another mixed-up saying that might have made me laugh if the tension wasn’t so severe.
‘Oh, what a surprise, look at you being discouraging and negative. You never did support my dreams. That’s what comes from having the ambition of frogspawn.’
Negative and discouraging. That’s thelastthing Bram is. And ambition? Admittedly I don’t know much about him, but helovesmagic, and I know you don’t getthatgood at it without a lot more ambition than frogspawn.
A gentle knock on the door makes me realise it’s past 9a.m., and before I have a chance to go over and open it, Tabby gets in first.
‘Off with your heads!’ She screeches at the two elderly ladies outside the door, and they step back in alarm.
‘Don’t mind her!’ I rush over to reassure the two regular customers who have been coming in for tea and toast most mornings. ‘This is the Queen of Hearts, a new addition from today whowon’tbe using that greeting on a regular basis. Come in, come in, make yourselves comfortable. The usual? Extra sparkle in your tea?’
They nod and when I go to start it, Bram has already gone to boil the kettle and put bread in the toaster. Because he’s helpful and encouraging, and although all relationships end with a degree of bitterness, he seems nothing like Tabby says, and she seems like the type of person who becomes an ex for many good reasons.
9
‘Well, it’s notbad,’ Bram says kindly.
We’re in his kitchen again and I’ve made a lemon drizzle loaf cake, hoping to be able to put slices of it out in the tearoom tomorrow. Which was definitely overly optimistic. After doing this for over a week now, I had hoped I might be improving slightly, but I’m still just as bad as ever.
‘I think you might’ve misinterpreted the context of “sponge” because it’s like eating a lemon flavoured bathroom sponge.’ Even so, he digs his fork into the cake tin again. ‘I’ve had worse this week. And it’s only Monday evening.’
He’s leaning on the unit and I’m sitting on it, with the loaf tin between us. I dig my fork into my end again too. It’s definitely got a spongey texture to it… as in, the cake tries to push your fork back out when you dig it in. A similar level of bounce to a trampoline.
‘The drizzle is nice though.’
‘You made the drizzle!’ I can’t help laughing.
Bram’s looking like himself again tonight. Freshly washed hair, no eyeliner, black jogging bottoms and a white T-shirt with Snoopy on it. There might be something about him when he’s playingHatter, but there’s even more about him when he’s his natural quiet self, and I’m thoroughly enjoying our evenings in his kitchen, no matter the quality of the resulting bakes. And some of them could barely be termed that, and definitely shouldn’t have the word ‘quality’ attached to them.
We both work our way towards the middle of the loaf tin, no matter how much resistance the cake puts up. ‘Why are we eating this?’
‘Comfort food,’ he says with a mouthful.
I suck on my fork thoughtfully because it’s an ideal opening to bring up Tabby, a topic he has meticulously avoided so far tonight. ‘Does that mean you’re in need of comfort after today?’
He glances at me. ‘No comment.’
I sigh. ‘Come on, Bram. How long are you going to avoid telling me about Tabby? All of tonight or a good chunk of the next two and a half months that’s left of our trial too?’
