Page 43 of A Wonderland Wish on Ever After Street
‘Gremlins?’ he suggests seriously.
‘Gremlins?’ I picture the cute creatures from the eighties’ movie. ‘Idon’tthink we’ve been invaded by gremlins, do you?’
He raises an eyebrow. ‘Well, on the off chance that itwasn’tgremlins, there are only three of us here and it wasn’t you or me. That somewhat narrows it down.’
‘Tabby? Why would she do that?’
‘The question isn’t why, the question is whether she’s done it to anything else.’ He’s at the display case, pullingout plates and serving platters and peering at them. ‘No one else has complained about anything, right?’
I shake my head.
‘Then hopefully they’re fine and it was just the muffins because of what we said this morning.’ He scrunches his fingers for a fork, and when I pass one over, he spears one thing after another and puts them in his mouth one at a time before putting the plates back in the display case. ‘They’re fine. So are they, and those.’
‘Why would she do that?’ Tabby is on her lunch break and I can hear her moving around upstairs and repeat my earlier question, unable to believe thatanyonewould do this on purpose. Maybe an accident that she was too embarrassed to own up to? The thought that this could be deliberate, that there’s someone out there – or, more specifically,in here, who wants to cause this kind of harm sends a shiver down my spine, and makes me feel apprehensive and unsafe, and like I can’t trust anyone.
‘Oh, who knows with that woman. Probably to get at me because she knew I’d had a hand in making them. Trying to convince my father that a wellness retreat would be a better option than a tearoom in this spot. Just trying to make life difficult. The possibilities are endless. This is why they say never work with children, animals, or exes.’
I think about what I thought last night, about someone being offered this space and then having the offer rescinded when I came along. What if that really was Tabby? It’d be something she’d hold against me. Something she’d want revenge for.
‘Want me to go and have it out with her?’ Bram offers.
I glance upwards, where the upstairs floorboards are creaking. ‘No. There’s enough animosity between you already. I’ll talk to her later.’
‘Salt? I don’t understand. Why would there be salt in them?’ Tabby is either completely clueless about the suspected muffin sabotage, or she could win an Oscar for her innocent look.
‘Someone put it in,’ I say when I corner her in the staffroom before the end of her lunch break.
She regards me for a minute. ‘Oh, and let me guess, Bram suggested it was me.’
‘Well, there are only three of us here and it wasn’t me or him.’ I repeat his words from earlier.
‘Yes, quite convenient. You can’t honestly think I’d be that stupid, can you? Why would I do something that would be so obvious? Don’t you thinkI’dknow thatyou’dknow it was me?’
I go to refute it, but it’s quite a good point actually. Thereareonly three of us here. You’d either have to be totally daft or an evil genius to do something so obvious when you knew you’d be the first suspect, and I don’t think Tabby is either. She’s a bit spoiled, but she’s not stupid and she’s not horribly cruel. I actually think she’s found working with Bram harder than she expected it to be.
‘Maybe a small child got behind the counter when none of us were looking and liberally doused everything with salt. Or maybe you should look a bit closer to home.’ A sinister tone has crept into her sickly-sweet voice.
‘What does that mean?’
‘Well, rather than being blinded by that ridiculous hair and offensively bright jacket, you should take a step back and objectively consider who is most likely to have ruined your muffins. Who made them?’
‘Bram and I did, together.’
‘And you saweverythinghe put in them, did you? You had eyes on him atalltimes?’
‘Yes! Well, no, but I’d have noticed if he’d dumped half a tin of salt in them! And we tried them! They were perfectlast night!’
‘Right, and after that, did you leave him alone with them? Who handled them last? Who’s been alone in the tearoom this morning?’
The answer to all those questions is Bram. Of course it is. Last night, I took stuff out to the car while he loaded the muffins into cake tins ready to bring in this morning. I didn’t watch him every second – why would I? ‘That’s ridiculous. How would he know I wouldn’t have one for breakfast and find out? And why? What would Bram have to gain from sabotaging anything around here? If I lose The Wonderland Teapot, he loses his job as the Hatter.’
‘He’ll find another one. People like him always bounce back. You don’t honestly think dear daddy Hastings would let him be jobless for long, do you? This’ll be his idea of a practical joke, you mark my words.’
‘He’s not a practical jokey kind of person. Bram does magic tricks, he doesn’t pull pranks.’
‘Same thing.’ She reaches over to squeeze my shoulder. ‘You’re young and naive, Cleo.’
‘I’m thirty-four! And you’re only two years older than me, you’re not exactly a wizened old tortoise are you?’
