Page 5 of Dreams Come True at the Fairytale Museu
‘No one on Ever After Street needsyourhelp. People like you don’t get it and you never will. Not everything is about profit. It’s about love and dreams and community.’
‘As a side note, I would like to clarify that Berrington Developments donotaccept love, dreams, and community as payment towards the rent, so might I politely suggest that profit inserts itself into the equation somewhere?’ He’s using that saccharine sweet voice again, and I glare at him for long enough that he rolls his eyes and steps back with a sigh. His voice changes to something softer and more genuine. ‘Look, Lissa, you and I are in this together whether we like it or not. I’m here to give your museum a fighting chance. I’ve been allocated a small budget that I’m willing to plough into certain improvements if I believe them to be worthwhile. You can either work with me towards our shared goal of making your museum better and helping it to thrive, or I can walk away right now, and you can book your moving trucks for the first of March, because that’s when my company will be along to start the demolition process.’
The thought makes me shudder, and a feeling of uneasiness floods me. I can’t trust him as far as I could throw him. All he’s interested in is profit, and that’s never been the overarching importance on this little street. How can I ever make someone so businessy appreciate that?
I wait for him to say something else, still trying to get my head around this turn of events, because I feel like my life has been turned upside down six times in the past twenty minutes, and I’m struggling to come to terms with the fact that today was just another lovely autumnal Monday like any other in September, and then this happens.Hehappens.
‘Do you know anything about running a museum?’ I ask when, instead of saying anything else and without putting the tablet down, he’s also got his phone out of his pocket and is one-handedly typing something on it.
‘Nope. That’s where you come in. You can show me what you usually do and then I’ll suggest ways to do it better,’ he says without looking up from his screens.
I stomp down the diatribe I want to bark at him. Who does he think he is – coming in here and taking over, and now he’s suggesting that I have to teach him how to domyjob so he can tell me how many mistakes I’m making, and the urge to literally push him out of the door and down the steps, ideally so he lands in a heap at the bottom with the damn tablet cracked on his head, and his workmen not far behind is overwhelming and so very, very tempting.
But, apart from potential criminal charges for grievous bodily harm, what would it achieve except dooming this place for good? Ihaveto believe that he means what he says – that I have a chance of saving Colours of the Wind if I can do things his way for a while.
If I can get that five-year lease again, I can get him out of here and put things back as they were, and at least I’d have time to prepare myself before the next reassessment, and surely anything is better than cinema complexes and moving trucks next spring?
‘And you? You’re… staying here, are you?’ I can barely bring myself to vocalise the words. Is this for real? I’m suddenly going to be sharing my job with someone who looks like he’s never stepped out from behind his desk before?
‘Hmm?’ he mutters like he hasn’t heard me, probably because hestillhasn’t looked up from his screens.
‘Oh, yes, that’s right.’ He answers without looking up after I repeat myself. ‘I’ll be working on my other jobs remotely while I’m here, so I can give this my all until the end of the year. If you could direct me to your office so I can get set up?’
Ah. Slight problem there. ‘Define office?’
He looks up from his tablet and his dark eyebrows furrow. ‘If I need to define it, we might have an issue. I would suggest it’s a small room where you do important things like paperwork. There’s probably a computer, filing cabinets, a printer, strong WiFi coverage…’
‘I don’t exactly have an office…’ I um and ah, trying to think of the best way to frame it. Even though how I manage my space is up to me, Iknowhe will find fault with it. He seems like the kind of man who considers nothing more important than an office. ‘I turned it into a workshop because I don’t have the space at home and the exhibits need to be made somewhere, so now the officeisthe kitchen table.’
His raised eyebrow says it all.
‘At least the kettle is easily accessible for tea?’ I offer optimistically. ‘And there are no other staff, so it’s not like you’ll be disturbed. An office really wasn’t an optimal utilisation of our limited space.’ I throw in a couple of words that sound like they might be on his wavelength. He seems like an ‘optimal utilisation’ type of man, and I can’t describe the sense of dread that’s settled over me at the thought of letting him run amok in my museum, although I get the impression of someone so uptight that his interpretation of running amok would probably involve nothing more than a slight loosening of his tie…
The end of the year seems a lifetime away, and I have no idea what he’s planning, or how on earth Colours of the Wind could ever conceivably earn more than a state-of-the-art cinema complex, and the tendrils of dread twist outwards, making this feel like a fight I can’t possibly win. Am I sentencing myself to a few very frustrating months where I will lose the museum anyway at the end of them? If there’s one thing Idoknow, it’s that you can never trust a company with ‘Developments’ in its name.
And yet the alternative is unthinkable. I’ve never in a million years imagined that Colours of the Wind wouldn’t continue indefinitely. I’ve never even entertained the thought of being evicted or of leaving Ever After Street and all my friends here, but if I don’t go along with this, what option will there be?
My thought process must play out on my face because he finally closes the case of his tablet and looks at me. ‘Igetthat this place means a lot to you, but we’ve bought this building and we can’t keep housing a failing business for the sake of sentimentality. As I said earlier – you’ve got a chance here. I like unusual concepts and things that are a little bit different. I would also like to avoid as much public backlash as possible. I’ve been pushing for a while to change the direction my company is going in. If Berrington Developments can do that by working with what’s already here rather than facing protests about pulling it down, then that might be the way forward, and this is my chance to prove it. This is important to me too. Let us both show we’ve got what it takes to change, update, upgrade, and turn things around, and your museum stands a good chance. Otherwise,thisis built within eighteen months.’
He taps the closed case of the tablet again, and I decide to be forthright too. ‘Okay, honestly,howcan I compete with that? This is a small place. I’m a one-woman band. I can’t afford much advertising. My visitors come from word-of-mouth and because people who come to Ever After Street want to see everything it has to offer. I can’t imagine the revenue a place likethatwould turn over, but I would guess my annual takings are barely a fraction of it. If I’m wasting my time, I’d rather you be honest about it now. Give me time to… prepare for the inevitable.’ My voice wobbles on those words and he looks a bit guilty.
‘Okay, honesty, I can work with that.’ His dark hair bounces as he nods like he approves of my forthrightness. ‘We streamline the budget and give people a reason to come here. We need an increase in visitors and an increase in reasons for themtovisit. This is a good concept but it has many flaws that need ironing out. Consider me the iron.’
‘Have you done this before? Saved businesses that were scheduled to be turned into ultramodern futuristic compounds?’
He presses the rubber end of his stylus pen into his chin, and the hesitation before he answers makes a cold sliver of ice slide down my back. ‘Look, this isn’t our usual protocol, and I’m not going to get into specific statistics about it, but?—’
‘That’s a no then?’ I interrupt his evasive answer.
‘If you don’t show me to your office space so we can make a start, it’s not going to be either, is it? Wasting time like this is the enemy of efficiency.’
I huff and beckon for him to follow me as I start walking towards the stairs.
‘I’d also like you to give me a full tour.’ He hurries after me. ‘Show me the museum through your eyes.’
‘And the workmen? Should I give them all a tour too?’
‘I’ve borrowed them from one of our building sites, they’re just on loan for the day. They’re mapping the place out so we can see what we’re working with and where we can make improvements or repairs. Just ignore them.’
