Page 38 of A Wonderland Wish on Ever After Street
When the inspection party return, Bram walks them to the door. He gives Mrs Willetts a hug, and I see the way she gives him an extra squeeze, and then he goes to shake his father’s hand, but Mr Hastings promptly ignores him. Some people might be hurt or affronted, but Bram slips instantaneously into character. He does a little tap dance and whistles a quick tune.
‘Thanks for coming!’ he says in a deliberately shrill voice, right into Mr Hastings’ ear, who puts a hand up like it was painful and frowns at him. ‘It was a joy to see you, as always. Have a day that’s filled with wonder!’
He produces a fistful of something from his pocket, and I see the horror cross Mr Hastings’ face as he realises what he’s going to do just one second too late. Bram opens his hand and blows a fistful of sparkly confetti all over his father.
It wasn’t intended for Mrs Willetts but she gets caught in the crossfire and brushes glitter off her shoulders good-naturedly, but Mr Hastings isn’t so good natured. He glares at Bram without a word, like he’s not going to dignify it with aresponse. It’s the personification of ‘I’m not mad, I’m disappointed’ conveyed in one simple look.
When his face starts to look like it might fracture if he scowls any harder, Mr Hastings huffs, blowing his greying hair upwards and disturbing the array of confetti that had landed on his head and sending a rainbow of paper shapes fluttering to their deaths on the floor. It would be quite comical if you couldn’t feel the anger pouring from him in waves. I get the feeling this is far from Mr Hastings’ first shower of confetti. Without a word, he gestures for Mrs Willetts to walk in front of him and closes the door from outside with a pointed thud, without taking his glaring eyes off Bram.
Once they’ve walked far enough down the street to be out of earshot, one of the regular customers who’s been coming in for a toasted teacake daily, starts a round of applause. ‘Well done, lad. If anyone needs a bit of confetti, it’s that stuffy old toadstool!’
Bram takes another bow. ‘Exactly my point, Mrs Moreno. It really is a sorry state of affairs when someone’s day can’t be improved by teeny-tiny colourful paper shapes and sparkle.’
I sigh as he walks back towards the counter. ‘Why did you do that? You must’ve known it wouldinfuriatehim.’
‘Ugh, because he’s a manchild!’ Tabby wails and stomps out to the back room.
‘Because I’m obnoxious.’ If the totally false Hatter grin didn’t give him away, the wobble in his voice does.
‘No, you’re not. You’re…’ I canseewhat he’s doing. He’s putting on a front, pretending not to be bothered by his father’s open display of disdain to hidehowbothered he is by it. And no matter what, this isn’t the time to talk about it. ‘You’re incorrigible,’ I finish instead, trying to be non-judgemental. We’ve both had enough judgement for one day.
‘I like to think so,’ he says proudly.
The three playing cards that Mrs Willetts dislodged from my teapot display are still on the counter, and he holds his hand out for them. When I refuse, he reaches over and pulls them out from behind my ear instead.
‘Bram!’ I snatch them back, but in the blink of an eye, he’s switched them, and the three cards I’m holding are not the ones that were there nanoseconds ago. ‘How did you do that?’
‘Magic,’ he says with a grin and sidesteps to the teapot display to put the original ones back in.
‘So you’re going to tell me that was an empty threat, right?’ I watch as he winds the cards onto the strands of wire. ‘Just a big joke. Mr Hastings throwing his weight around. He wouldn’t actually expect us to cater a wedding, right?’ I sound too hopeful for my own good. ‘Right?’
‘My father doesn’t make empty threats.’
‘Ah yes, your father. Don’t think I’ve forgotten that key nugget of information in the panic of this wedding nonsense. As if things weren’t hard enough here, now I’ve got Mr Hastings’ golden boy watching my every mistake too.’
‘I’m many colours in the eyes of my father, golden is not one of them,’ he says without looking up from the display he’s fixing. ‘Youknow that.’
‘I don’t?—’
‘You remember when you said you don’t care who he is…’
‘I don’t care who he is.’ I sigh and push a hand through my hair and accidentally dislodge my black bow headband. ‘Idon’tcare, Bram. I care about the fact you didn’t tell me.’
‘Cleo, can we not?’ This time, he looks me directly in the eyes. ‘I know you want to yell at me. I know you want to thump me, but not here, okay? Not now. Not with certain “I spy with my little eyes” watching.’ His eyes flick in the direction Tabby went, making it clear that anything she overhears willnotstay betweenus. ‘Tonight, if you’ll still come over. You can shout at me then. You can hit me then, I promise.’
‘Scheduled violence. Something to look forward to.’ I can’t help smiling and I see the smile in his brown eyes when he looks at me. ‘Although I don’t think there’s much point in me coming over. We can’t cater your sister’s wedding. This is all over, no matter which way you slice it.’
‘Keep calm. Let’s not panic.’ He moves back to standing opposite and then winks at me. ‘Don’t throw the baby out with the carrots or hatch your chickens before they can count. It’s not over until the big-boned bullfrog sings.’
‘Your mixed sayings come out more when you’re panicking and trying to pretend you’re not.’
‘I don’t know how you know that.’
‘You’ve let me see behind your hat.’
‘There’s nothing behind my hat but blue hair.’ He gives me that megawatt Hatter grin, but today, I can see how much is hidden behind it. There is so much more to Bram than blue hair, hats, and immense control over a deck of cards. I’m starting to realise that all of those things existonlyto hide the real person – a softer, quieter side who’s been hurt once too often.
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