Page 32 of Dreams Come True at the Fairytale Museu
Are they right? It bolsters my doubts about Warren and how honest he’s been about therealreason for his presence here. I know he’s trying to prove something to his mother-slash-boss, but he hasn’t elaborated much. However, it makes me want to stick up for him too. It might be well buried, but there’s something deep about him, and I don’t think he’s anywhere near as bad as I thought he was at first. He was openly touched by those wishes the other day, and I’m getting the sense that he’s enjoying the museum more than he expected to, but I have to remind myself that I’ve been friends with everyone in this garden for years. Iknowthey’re being protective because they want what’s best for me, whereas I’ve known Warren for a matter of weeks and Idofeel like he’s hiding something.
‘Did you find his wish?’ I’m so lost in thought that it’s definitely not the first time Mickey’s asked.
I hesitate and then lie. ‘No. I tried, but he came in and caught me and then took it.’
I hate not being honest with my best friend, we shareeverything, but it doesn’t feel like something I should share with anyone. Would Warren have written something so personal if he’d known I was going to read it? Of course he wouldn’t, as shown by how quickly he took the piece of paper when he realised that I might.
No matter which side we’re on, I can’t tell my fellow shopkeepers that he finds life meaningless, only for it to be passed around Ever After Street like the juiciest gossip. It would be different if it was something tangible, something we could actually get him, a way of proving the magic of the wishing well, but it isn’t, and his feelings aren’t mine to share.
Mickey makes a noise of frustration. ‘What a shame, it would have been so handy to have that. Oh, well. Mr Hastings told us he put on a good show?’
‘Mr Hastingsknows?’ I say in disbelief.
‘We knew he’d see us on the CCTV, and we knew you’d go looking for it. We had to get him in on the plan,’ Cleo says. She knows Mr Hastings better than the rest of us and insists that hedoeshave a nicer side, somewhere.
‘But hehatesme. He’d be glad to get rid of me. And he’s already approved the Berrington Developments plans – he sounded like he couldn’t wait to visit their cinema complex!’
‘Ahh, but he’s learning to listen to what the shopkeepers in his area want and we all wantyou,’ Cleo assures me. ‘He had to get on our side or face the wrath of all of us. I think he’s more neutral than you think. He’d like to see the museum doing better, because you’ve been a fixture here for so long. Ever After Street wouldn’tbeEver After Street without you, Liss. Even Mr Hastings can admit that. Who else would he have to call him out on his nonsense if you weren’t here?’
‘Well, he did an absolutely sterling job of making me think I was the biggest thorn he’s ever had in his side and he couldn’t wait to see the back of me. And you lot. You’re all wasting your lives running shops here when you should clearly all be auditioning for roles inCoronation Street. I can’t believe you guys did this, and at the same time, ofcourseyou did. Whoelsewould have come up with something so astoundingly brilliant?’
Mickey is the first to come over and give me a hug. ‘And now you’re involved so we have your imagination too. The possibilities are endless.’
I don’t feel as excited as I should. The possibilitiesareendless, and I can see where they’re coming from and that their intentions are nothing but good, but the prospect of going back to the museum and telling Warren it was nothing to do with them weighs heavy. He’s going to know I’m lying, and the ease that’s been building between us is going to be eroded.
But they are right. I trust my friends with my whole heart, but I have zero idea of whether I can trust him.
There is no concrete goal. What would he consider to be ‘proof’ that the museum is worth saving? What if we get to the end of the year and he says I haven’t done enough without ever defining what ‘enough’ is? Since he arrived, I’ve made peace with him being here. I know he’s looking at the budget, at things that can be improved here and cut there and streamlined everywhere, and I’ve tried to embrace that – believing him to be my best chance to save Colours of the Wind, but what if it’s the biggest mistake I’ve made? What if joining the others and really embracing this escaped exhibits idea could give me a leg to stand on and might bemyway of saving my museum – with or without him?
12
‘Is he climbing in or climbing out?’ a boy of around eight or nine comes up to the front desk and asks me shyly.
‘I don’t know, what do you think?’ I say with a grin. He’s talking about my model of Lumière, who is currently trying to scale the tower of the Ever After Street castle.
‘Maybe he’s trying to rescue Plumette?’
‘Oh, yes, of course, why didn’t I think of that?’ I realise it should be reasonably easy to get a feather duster and do it up in the style of Lumière’s love-interest inBeauty and the Beast, and I wonder why I’ve never thought of it before.
‘Either way, it’s awesome,’ the boy says and goes back to the mum and little sister who are waiting for him.
‘Was that about the candlestick?’ Within moments of the boy walking away, Warren comes down the stairs, his eyes on the Tablet of Gloom in his hand.
‘Do you do nothing but sit up there monitoring social media?’
‘Hmm?’ His eyes were on the screen and I have to repeat myself before he answers. ‘No, I sit up there working. You’re not the only job I’m overseeing at the moment, you know. I’m choosing to do my usual work from here because it’s easier than commuting. I got a tip-off from my boss to check the Ever After Street account again.’
‘Your mother?’
‘One and the same.’
‘That must be strange.’
‘It has its moments.’
It’s typical of Warren’s terse responses in recent days.
Things have been awkward between us. When I got back from catching the others, I told him that no one knew how the exhibits got out, but the other shopkeepers had spotted them and decided to have a bit of fun for social media. For added flair, I claimed they thought it was me doing it and laughed in my most unhinged manner.
