Page 42 of A Wonderland Wish on Ever After Street
‘Yeah.’ He glances at them and then sighs and steps away to reach the bag, and I instantly miss the closeness.
I pour them in and he moves further along the unit to line a muffin tin with paper cases and then slides it down to me, and I spoon in equal amounts of the chocolatey batter.
We clean up while they cook, and when they’re done, Bram slices the tops off and uses a mini scoop to score out a hole from the middle of each muffin and passes them over to me, where I splodge a spoonful of Nutella into the middle, put the top back on, and dust them with icing sugar.
‘Cheers.’ We take a muffin each and he knocks his against mine in a toast, and we peel the cases back and take a bite.
‘They’re amazing.’ I put a hand up to cover my mouth because they’re too good not to say it instantly. The Nutella has started to melt with the heat of the muffin, creating a mix of soft, gooey, hazelnutty chocolate cake. ‘Now we just have to do it a hundred and fifty more times. With several different things. And get them all ready in time for one day.’
He flashes both dark eyebrows at me. ‘What, that? Easy.’
‘Easy,’ I echo, although there’s something about Bram that makes things feel much less daunting than they would if I was alone.
13
‘What are they?’ Tabby peers into the front of the display case as I stand behind it, using tongs to arrange the muffins onto a three-tier stand in the centre.
‘Nutella muffins. Bram and I made them last night.’
‘Don’t you make all of this?’ She waves a hand towards the other things on display, including a coffee walnut cake from the supermarket that I’ve unwrapped and decorated, cherry tarts with added fresh cream and heart sprinkles, and flapjacks with card suits iced onto them.
‘Well, yeah, but?—’
‘It’s the first joint effort.’ Bram comes in from out the back and finishes the answer when I get flustered at the slip-up. ‘First time we’ve made something together. The first of many.’
I meet his eyes across the shop and he winks at me, but I feel my cheeks burning under Tabby’s analytical eyes. ‘Would you like one?’
‘Ugh, no, calories!’ She frowns at me with such horror that you’d think I’d offered her a poison apple rather than a chocolate muffin.
‘They’re a trial for Laura’s wedding,’ I say, in case she gets the wrong idea about why Bram and I are making things together.
‘Oh, the wedding!’ She clasps her hands together. ‘It’s going to be a fairy-tale day. I’ve got so much planned for the hen night. I’m doing a pampering session for all the ladies to show them what I’d do at my wellness retreat. The mother of the bride is going to be there. Just about the only person in the universe who has influence over dear daddy Hastings. When she sees what I can offer, she’ll put in a good word for me. Maybe one day we’ll be neighbours on Ever After Street after all.’
‘At least there are no calories in acupuncture needles,’ I say to cover how nervous that makes me.Isshe the person who was offered this shop before me? What if Mr Hastings’ wife singing Tabby’s praises and waxing lyrical about literal wax treatments really could influence him into considering that Ever After Street needs a wellness retreat instead of a teashop?
Luckily customers don’t seem to agree because it’s a busy morning – so busy that I have to put Tabby on tea-making duty, and Bram runs himself ragged between bringing dishes to customers and entertaining visitors. He flutters around cards, spinning them, plucking them from mid-air, making things disappear and reappear in different places, tricks that no one can explain logically, and there’s something about his smile when people like what he does. It’s impossible not to watch him, even when I’m supposed to be concentrating on the orders for chicken mayo sandwiches, hot buttered crumpets, and cream teas.
I’m overjoyed when the first person orders a Nutella muffin and a teapot of sparkly tea, and Bram’s eyes are dancing as we both covertly watch her from opposite sides of the tearoom.
Until she digs a fork in and her face contorts in disgust. ‘Excuse me, I think there’s something wrong with this. It’s so salty. I can’t eat it!’
‘Salt?’ I say in confusion as she waves me over.
Bram hurriedly finishes a card trick and comes over too. ‘There’s no salt in it whatsoever.’
‘Oh, there very much is. That’s disgusting!’
My confusion is mirrored on Bram’s face and we give each other a clueless shrug. He takes the muffin away, while I offer the customer something else but end up refunding her entire order when she refuses, looking like she might be scarred for life by the muffin experience.
‘There’s salt in these.’ By the time I’ve finished, Bram’s taken another muffin from the display case, put it on a plate and pulled it apart. ‘Look at that. Those grains in the Nutella and all over the top. Someone’s put salt in this.’
‘How can someone have put salt in it?’ I get a fork out and gather up some of the cake and can’t contain the shudder when I shove it in my mouth. ‘That’s like taking a bite of a tub of Saxa.’ I go to spit the mouthful into the bin, and Bram tries a bit too and quickly follows me.
‘I don’t get it. They weren’t like this last night.’
‘Of course they weren’t like this last night.’ His dark eyes scan the tearoom. ‘Someone’s sabotaged them. Someone’s thrown a load of salt all over them.’
‘No! Who? And why?’
