Page 63 of Dreams Come True at the Fairytale Museu
‘Just wondering. The crumbling stonework below and the difference in style between that and the rest of the basement makes me think it was here long before the museum was.’
‘I don’t know. Never thought about it. Witt might know. He’s a history buff and his father owned the castle…’
‘Liss?’ After a few minutes of silence, he shifts so his mouth is against my forehead and makes sure I’m listening to him. ‘If anything goes wrong… If anything doesn’t go to plan with what we’re trying to do here… Look into that well.’
‘What, and make a wish?’
‘Something like that,’ he mumbles in response.
‘Not quite the “unsafe hazard that someone’s strung lights on” it once was then?’ I paraphrase what he said on the first day.
‘Are you sure I said exactly that? It wasn’t more along the lines of, “Ooh, a wishing well, how delightfully charming and magical!”’ When I giggle, he leans down to kiss me again. ‘No wonder you called me an evil soulless gerbil. That feels like a lifetime ago, like that man was a stranger. Thinking about that is like an out-of-body experience, like I’m watching someone else, but that man wasn’tmeat all. I don’t think I’ve been myself for years now.’
I think I already understood that, on some level, but there’s something about hearing him admit it to himself that feels significant.
‘While I’ve been out here, a mum with two kids came to look around, and I couldseethe wonder this garden inspired. The little girl was holding a Belle doll and had found a place where shebelonged. They said hello to me, the mum asked if I worked here, and when I said yes, both the kids gasped and told me how lucky I am.’ His head is resting against mine, but his eyes are on the wishing well. ‘And a little boy went to write a wish, and then he came over and asked me if I knew why the things in the museum kept getting out, and I said it was magic, and he just accepted it, and I envied him. How lovely it would have been at that age to believe in the impossible.’
‘You don’t need to be a child to believe in magic. There’s magic everywhere, in all the little moments of every day. In patches of wildflowers where fairies dance, in dandelion clocks and falling sycamore seeds, in sunrises and sunsets and chance meetings with people you run into along the way.’ I let my hand run over his jaw until I can pull him down for another kiss. ‘In unexpected connections with the most unlikely people.’
‘It made me so proud to be a part of this.’ He sounds raw and emotional and I hold him closer and he lets out a long breath against my hair. ‘And no one mentioned the hearing aid.’
‘No one would. I’m not trying to downplay your feelings, but it’s so much more noticeable toyouthan it is to anyone else. It’s a part of you, no different to your nose or your collarbones or your shoulders. It doesn’t define you.’ I let my hand drift up until it gently covers his left ear, and then push myself up so I can murmur into his right ear. ‘This doesnotmake you any less of a person.’
We’re pressed so closely together that I can feel his breathing stutter, and he takes a few deep breaths before he speaks again. ‘A person with a problem.’
‘Every person has problems. Most of them, we’ll never see or know about, but everyone is dealing with something. Every person we walk past on the street, every stranger who offers a smile or a nod, every single one of them will have something going on in their lives, some adversity to overcome, and that doesn’t change the importance they bring to the world.’ I kiss his cheek. ‘Having an issue with your hearing and doing something about it should be celebrated.’
My lips are still pressed against his cheek and his hands tighten on my body, like he’s trying to hold me in place and a long few minutes pass of us simply holding each other.
‘You’ve made me realise how much I’ve isolated myself. I never accept invitations to go out with friends, or to work dos, or anywhere, because I know I’ll struggle and I live in fear of someone realising the truth. It’s always been a shameful secret that no one must ever find out about, something that I’d be ridiculed for and treated like an outsider, so I’ve made myself into an outsider so I could get in first and prevent anyone else doing it. Your acceptance makes so much difference. I wish there were more people in my life like the ones on Ever After Street. Everything you do here is so full of heart. I don’t want this to end.’
I kiss his cheek again and then settle my head back against his shoulder. ‘I don’t want you to go.’
‘In three weeks’ time, my office closes for the Christmas holidays. That’s the end of my time here.’
He sounds so sad and so…final… that it makes a boulder of anxiety settle inside me. ‘But you could come back, right?’
‘I’ve got an acquisition to oversee in Southampton. I’ve got to be there on the third of January. I’ve already cancelled once so I could stay here, I can’t pull out again.’
I try not to show how surprised I am, but it hits me like a punch to the gut. I didn’t know he had any other commitments like that, or that they were so…imminent. I thought he’d be here for longer in a professional capacity, and in a personal capacity… Well, I didn’t think he’d be going very far at all. Southampton in January is so… conclusive. I swallow hard. ‘How long will you be gone?’
‘About a month, maybe. I don’t know, it’s never mattered before.’
‘Okay, so you’ll be gone for a few weeks, but after that… you could come back, right? You’ve been working remotely since September, how difficult would it be to continue doing that?’
‘Prohibitively so.’
I don’t lift my head but I feel him move to look at me. ‘I need to get back to the office because if I stay here, my focus will be on the museum, and while that’s been the intention for the past couple of months, it can’t continue, no matter how much I want it to.’
His words sting, and I know I’m responsible for roping him into helping with museum jobs, but I’ve got lost in how much I’ve enjoyed his company and valued his input and somewhere along the way, I’ve forgotten thatthisisn’t his job, and I appreciate his honesty, even though it isn’t what I was hoping to hear. I feel a bit discouraged at how cut-and-dried he makes it sound. It sounds like I’m never going to see him again, and that makes my heart beat faster for all the wrong reasons.
‘Okay, but there’ll still be…us, right? We can still see each other? Fifty miles apart isn’t that far, we can still…’ I waggle my finger between him and me, not quite sure what label to put on it right now.
‘If you still want to by then.’
‘Why wouldn’t I?’ There’s a guarded tone in his voice that makes me pull back until I can look him in the eyes.
It was a rhetorical question but he shakes his head like he doesn’t have an answer, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I tell myself I’m imagining the feeling of unease that settles over me.
