Page 54 of A Wonderland Wish on Ever After Street
‘Good afternoon, Mrs Moreno.’ He greets our regular customer, who’s sitting at a table, eating her usual toasted teacake while watching her grandson on the flamingo croquet. ‘Those teacakes would have nowhere to go without you.’
The old lady regards him and it clearly takes a moment before she recognises him because he lookssodifferent to his usual character.
‘Oh, I didn’t realise that was you. I wondered where you were today. My grandson was looking forward to seeing his favourite Hatter.’
‘I’d like to believe I’m the only Hatter around these parts.’ He tips his baseball cap to her, waves to the grandson, and then slips in behind the counter.
I don’t intend to smilequiteso widely, but there’s something about his presence that makes the weight of the day pressing down on my shoulders feel lighter somehow. ‘You’re supposed to be taking the day off. You know, to rest and recover?’
Apart from the baseball cap, he’s got his grey hoodie on over a white T-shirt and black jogging bottoms, his hair is washed and smooth, curling at the nape of his neck and around his ears, and if Iwasn’t in the middle of handling food, it would take all my willpower not to reach up and tuck it back. ‘Go home. Watch Netflix.’
‘I’ve seen Netflix.’
‘All of it?’
‘Feels like it sometimes.’ His dark eyes are twinkling as they hold my gaze, and I have no doubt that he knew I’d protest and he came fully prepared not to let me.
‘How are you feeling?’
His laugh is a low snort. ‘Like I’ve been for a spin in a tumble dryer on the highest heat setting. But other than that, great. Peachy. Fit as a candlestick maker’s dog.’
‘Then you shouldn’t be in wo?—’
‘You want me to feel better and seeing you makes me feel better.’
I roll my eyes. ‘Very funny.’
‘Look, I had another nap after you left this morning. I took a long bath, and then I wandered around the house going stir crazy and missing you. Thought I’d poke my head in and see if there was anything I could do without actually working.’ He strains his neck and looks around the doorway to the back room and lets out a low whistle. ‘And judging by that heap of washing up, there definitely is. I’m not customer-facing today, but I can tacklethat.’ He rolls his sleeves up. ‘If that gets any higher, we’re going to have to fill in a shedload of paperwork to have it declared a new mountain, so let me help. Okay?’
It’s like he’s waiting for permission, although if I said no, there’s no way he’d listen.
‘O-Okay.’ The word stutters as it comes out because it’s hard to concentrate on anything apart from the look in his dark eyes, the effervescent scent of his aftershave, and the heat of his body where he’s standing closer than hewas moments ago…
…until the father who is still waiting for his tea and his daughter’s bread-and-butterflies and squash clears his throat and we both jump.
‘Sorry, sir, Alice is just sorting out some gremlins.’ Bram nods towards them. ‘My fault entirely. We won’t keep you a second.’
He touches his hand to my hip, and in one swift movement, lifts the peak of his cap so he can lean down and kiss my cheek. It’s the briefest peck, but it makes my head spin like the black and white spirals so associated with Wonderland. He’s usually cleanshaven but he’s got a couple of days’ worth of stubble now, and it makes him go from sexy tohot. Very, veryhot.
He’s got the sense to step into the back room and put some space between us, and I give myself a shake and go back to the bread-and-butterflies, tea, and squash order.
‘He’s a breath of fresh air, isn’t he?’ Mrs Moreno says when I’ve delivered it to the waiting table.
At first I think she means the father who’s jabbing angrily at his phone, but my eyes follow hers to the clink of china from the back room and the whistling that’s started up. ‘That he is.’
He’s a breath of something, all right. And the relief I feel just from seeing him is astounding. I love how simple he makes everything, even the washing up. Usually, between us, we manage to keep on top of it, but that hasn’t been an option today, and I was dreading tackling that later.
And along he comes and simply takes care of it without question or complaint. And it makes me think again about what happens if I get this tearoom. What if I get to work with this spectacular nut for longer… and what if I don’t?
The tearoom isn’t closed yet, but it’s mercifully quiet enough to catch my breath and appreciate the constant out-of-tune singing from the back room.
I know he knows I’m there, but I lean my head against the doorframe and watch Bram for a few minutes before speaking. ‘How are you so happy?’
‘Why shouldn’t I be happy?’ He’s got bright pink rubber gloves on, and he glances up at me with a smile. ‘I’m alive. I have a roof over my head and a job I love, and I feel well enough to come in. What do I have to complain about?’
‘If only more people saw the world the way you do.’ I can’t get my head around his attitude sometimes, and yet, Iloveit. He’s so positive about everything, and it rubs off on others, whether they want it to or not.
‘Happiness is a choice. If you’ve got two sinks full of washing up to do, eleven piles of laundry to iron, hoovering to do and a lawn to mow, you can sing and dance your way through it and enjoy yourself, or you can grunt and groan and moan all the way through, and neither way makes it go any faster, but one is infinitely more enjoyable than the other. No one’s life is perfect. Everyone is unhappy in some way. In fact, the only thing that makes some people happy is complaining about it and dragging others down too. I don’t ever want to be that person. It’s a privilege to be able to do chores. Some people can’t. Some people would kill to feel well enough to run the hoover through the house. If we have a roof over our heads and food in our bellies, we have it better than most. Some of us are even lucky enough to have people who care about us…’ He looks up and meets my eyes. ‘And that makes us extraordinarily fortunate. People get so caught up in little niggles and forget the bigger picture. Many of us don’t realise how lucky we are just to live. And sometimes the most powerful thing anyone can do is realise that.’
