Page 20 of Dreams Come True at the Fairytale Museu
‘I don’t know, your brainwaves are probably affected by the tightness of that super-stiff collar. That’s tight enough to cut off oxygen to the brain and cause moments of madness.’
It’s his turn to stop and laugh, a slightly unhinged laugh. ‘What would any rational person think if they overheard us now? This is by far the most bizarre conversation I’veeverhad.’
Even so, I can’t help feeling a bit guilty when he undoes the top button of his white shirt and loosens his stiff collar, and his forehead furrows as he looks at the shoes I’m still holding. ‘Are you saying thatyouhaven’t done this? That someone else has come in and moved things and started up a really strange spinning wheel, thrown a load of gold thread all over the place, and stolen a pair of shoes? Like… vandalism and theft?’
‘It’s not vandalism, is it? No harm has been done, apart from a shedload of thread to clear up… and the shoes have found their way back to us,’ I say, even though I can’t get my head around it. It’s quite possibly the strangest thing that’s ever happened in the museum, andthat’ssaying something after being here every day for over ten years, but I’m flummoxed. Warrenmustbe involved – there’s no other possibility.
‘But they didn’t go walkabouts on their own in the first place, did they?’ He raises that sceptical eyebrow again, and Iknowhow it sounds, but it doesn’t seem malicious.
‘Oh, maybe it’s like that film? You know the one with Ben Stiller where the exhibits come to life at night?’ Warren’s still holding the apple core in one hand, but he flaps the other one like he’s trying to remember.
‘Night at the Museum?’ I suggest and he nods in agreement, looking the most animated I’ve seen him until now. ‘Oh, yes, that’smuchmore likely. Glass slippers that walk by themselves, a spinning wheel that’s spun itself into a frenzy of gold thread, and a poison apple that’s magicked its way up three floors to the kitchen all on its own. That’s unquestionably the most reasonable explanation. Good job, Warren, you’ve solved the mystery.’
‘You’ve spent the past week going on about magical wishing wells, but you thinkNight at the Museumis absurd?’
‘Everything about this morning so far has been absurd,’ I mutter, wondering why he’s so blasé about this. The obvious answer is that he’s messed with things to wind me up or make me think there’s something sinister going on.
‘Does anyone else have a key?’
‘No. Only me, and now you.’ I gulp a bit too loudly as the lie slips off my tongue. Mickey has my spare key, but it’s not like she’s going to have come in and done something like this during the night, and seeing as he’s already complained about her using the kitchen, it’s better not to mention it.
‘Maybe I should call the police…’ I suggest, not really intending to, but certain that it will force him into admitting culpability.
‘Oh, yeah, that’ll be great for business. Blue lights and officers swarming the place because a spinning wheel started up by itself.’ He rolls his sharp blue eyes and looks around the lobby. ‘Let’s sit tight for now. Nothing’s really happened, has it? Nothing’s been damaged that we know of, and the only missing thing has been returned. Let’s see if anything else happens before we jump to conclusions.’
Ah-ha! Almost as good as proof of guilt. If he didn’t alreadyknowwhat was going on, he’d want to find out, wouldn’t he?
‘And if itisthe exhibits coming to life by themselves, then we don’t want to scare them becausethathas so much potential to go viral and get everyone talking about Colours of the Wind.’ He cups his hands around his mouth and calls out to the whole museum. ‘You hear that, exhibits? If you want to move by yourselves, feel free! You have our full support!’
‘No, they don’t!’ I squeak in horror. ‘No sentient exhibits, thank you! Don’t encourage them!’
‘Are you kidding? This is the most exciting thing that’s happened in years. Sentient exhibits would really put this place on the map. I’ll even clear up the gold thread so they don’t feel bad about it.’
I’m sure it’s a way of directing suspicion away from himself, but I appreciate it anyway. I can’t remember the last time there was a mess made around here andIwasn’t the one clearing it up, and it feels nice to not be as alone as I usually am. No one is ever really alone on Ever After Street, but this is the first time I’ve ever had someonehereto share the day-to-day running of the museum with, and it feels much better than I expected.
‘Oh, maybe it’s a ghost!’ He sounds genuinely excited, and the grin on his face is one of pure childlike joy, even though I’m almost certain he’s pulling my leg. The best course of action is to go along with it, bide my time and try to figure out exactly what his angle is with this.
‘Did I forget to tell you about the museum ghost?’ I call after him. ‘It’s been haunting these halls for years. Tries to murder anyone who wants to change things. It’s especially fond of all those property developers who come a-knocking.’
‘Good job I’m not your average property developer then.’ He turns back and gives me a wink and a cheeky grin. ‘And I thought my competition had lessened in recent years.’
I laugh despite myself. He has a way of being funny at unexpected moments, and I’m starting to suspect that the first half of that sentence is very true indeed.
6
‘This room should be a gift shop.’ Warren is not spending enough time upstairs. Warrenhasn’tbeen spending enough time upstairs since the other morning when he cleared up the mystery gold thread and then spent the day untethered from his Tablet of Gloom, telling me all the ways he’d change things if he was in charge, and he hasn’t stopped since. ‘Every museum needs a gift shop.’
‘The worst part of every museum is the gift shop! People feel obligated to spend money they don’t have on things they don’t want, especially if they’ve got kids pressuring them. Besides, what would I sell in it?’
‘With that logo we talked about the other day, the possibilities are endless. Any memento that people can take home to remember this place. Something they might catch sight of a year from now and think about coming back for another visit. You have nothing to leave a lasting impression, nothing to remind people of their visit here. Nothing for them to stick on their fridge doors and tell friends when they enquire about it.’
‘I didn’t know friends gathered around fridge doors,’ I say to cover my irritation because he’s right again, which he’s annoyingly good at being.
He gives me a scathing look and I roll my eyes. ‘So I’d have to invest in loads of items, probably hundreds of them per batch, only for them to sit on shelves gathering dust? It’s a waste of money, and that room is the dressing-up room. Kids love being able to wear these elaborate gowns for the duration of their visit, it makes them feel like part of the fairytale.’
‘Yes. It’s going really well, isn’t it? That last child mademefeel like I was part of a horror film.’
He’s just witnessed a tantrum from a little girl who had put on a yellow Belle dress to walk around and really objected to having to take it off again when it was time to leave, and had to be wrangled out of it by harassed parents who looked like they’d rather get antibiotics down the throats of a fleet of angry cats than try to get the dress off her. She hissed at them at one point. Warren looked quite shellshocked afterwards and started googling for local exorcists.
