Page 33 of Dreams Come True at the Fairytale Museu
As predicted, he knew I wasn’t telling him everything, whatever respect had built up between us was eroded instantly, and he’s spent almost all his time hunched over his laptop at the kitchen table since then, although he’s stuck to wearing the comfy jumpers rather than going back to the intimidating suits.
‘So,ishe climbing in or climbing out?’
‘I don’t know. It’s up for interpretation. Although have you seen that castle? Why would anyone want to getoutof it? Lumière and Cogsworth lived in the Beast’s castle in the film, maybe he’s trying to sneak in so they can get back to the comfort they’re accustomed to.’
‘That’s the story you’re sticking to, is it?’ He twists the water bottle around on his finger.
‘I don’t know, Warren. I don’t know how he got there. Last I saw him, he was on that shelf by the door.’ I hate how easily the lie rolls off my tongue when the reality is that Sadie tied him to a rope made of knotted fabric scraps and lowered him from the tower window at 1a.m. last night, while Mickey and I stood in the street and helped her position him perfectly to catch the most eyes, and then took photos as soon as daylight came, and now there’s a post on the Ever After Street socials asking people to comment if they spot anything untoward at the castle today, and to leave their guesses on what the cheeky candelabra is up to.
‘Right. Of course he was.’
I don’t know who’s right – my fellow shopkeepers telling me to keep this from him, or my gut feeling that tells me I should be honest with him, but what I do know is that everything seemed better when it felt like Warren and I were on the same side.
* * *
All I can hear are clattering and scraping noises. It’s after 5p.m. and now the museum is closed to the public, Warren is up to something upstairs. ‘What are you doing up there?’
No answer.
I go up a few steps and call his name again, and this time, he pops his head around the wall of the landing and looks down at me. ‘Did you say something?’
I repeat myself and he beckons me upwards, and when I reach the second-floor landing, I find he’s cleared a spot beside a statue of Tinkerbell who’s been put up here due to a pair of broken wings, and has dug out my collection of dustsheets and covered the floor with them, and he’s looking exceptionally proud of himself.
I give him a clueless shrug because it requires further explanation.
‘Oh, you have to get down there to see the point.’
I get the sense of that mischievous little boy coming to the surface again because he’s taken his shoes off and is bouncing on the balls of his feet and he’s got that ‘I’m up to something’ glint in his blue eyes, and I indulge him by unzipping my boots and stepping out of them to kneel down in the spot he points out.
It’s behind the baluster posts of the landing banister, looking down the stairs and directly into the lobby from above, towards the main doors, and when I still can’t figure out what he’s getting at, I look up at him questioningly.
‘I’ve found the perfect spot for a stakeout!’ He looks so pleased with himself that it would be adorable if it wasn’t theworstsuggestion ever. ‘I’m going to stay here tonight and keep watch. This is the ideal hideout – I can see the doors and the lobby, a perfect view of anyone coming in or going out, but no one will ever know I’m here. Tonight, I will catch whoever it is red-handed.’
Panic fills my mind and I scramble back to my feet. ‘You can’t do that!’
‘Why not?’
‘You just… er… you can’t…’ I’m on thin ice here. If I protest too much, he’s going to know I’m hiding something, because if I didn’tknow, I’d want to find out too, wouldn’t I? What possible objection could I have that wouldn’t be even slightly suspicious?
I can surreptitiously text Mickey and make sure she tells everyone not to do anything tonight and meanwhile, I can reinforce the belief that I don’t know anything either, can’t I?
‘You can’t – on yourown!’ I amend my previous sentence as a moment of inspiration strikes. ‘I’ll stay too. I want to know what’s going on just as much as you.’
‘Of course you do.’
I often feel like I’m invisible, but at the moment, I feel like he can see straight through me. ‘Two pairs of eyes are better than one, right? One of us might spot something the other one misses. Besides, I couldn’t possibly leave you alone with the museum ghost, could I? Yes, this is a good idea.’ I nod sagely. ‘I can’t believe we didn’t think of it sooner.’
And I can’t believe thatwedidn’t foresee this as a possibility.
I walk slowly down the stairs until I’m out of his sight and thenracedown the remaining steps until I can grab my phone from the front desk and quickly text the shopkeepers’ WhatsApp group to warn them to stay far, far away.
I’m still texting when Warren comes down the stairs with his briefcase and his car keys jangling in his hand and I put my phone down quickly. ‘Where are you going?’
‘To change and get something to eat before I settle in for the night, and also to make it look like I’ve gone home in case anyone’s watching the building. When I get back, can you let me in round the back way?’
I nod, surprised by how seriously he’s taking this. He’s really going to the trouble of returning by going through the forest and scrambling up the hill and over the garden wall at the back? I feel that guilt again. No one’s watching the building because their ‘inside woman’ is literally spilling the beans right at this second.
‘Can I get you anything?’
