Page 8 of Dreams Come True at the Fairytale Museu
He looks confused. ‘Who’s Belle?’
‘Belle.’ I blink at him in surprise. Is therereallya person in the universe who doesn’t know who Belle is? ‘The main character fromBeauty and the Beast?’
‘I’ve never seenBeauty and the Beast, nor read the original fairytale. Why would I?’
‘Why would you?’ I repeat in indignation. ‘Because it’s an endemic part of our society and the lessons learned from it are part of the fabric of our lives? Belle is a role model for every booklover and every person who’s ever felt out of place or like they don’t fit in. It’s the quintessential proof that beauty is only skin deep and people can be nothing like they seem on the surface. It shows us that it’s okay to like things that other people don’t approve of, and that books are nice and can help us with the answers to most of life’s problems, like feeling lonely or ostracised. Give me that,’ I almost growl as I take the wooden book sculpture out of his hands. ‘You don’t deserve to hold that if you haven’t even read one of the classics of our timeorseen at least one version of the film.’
He laughs. He must think I’m joking. Instead of pushing it, he types something into the Tablet of Gloom and walks further into the garden and uses the toe of his mirror-shined shoe to poke at one of the low hedges and his blue eyes trace the other evergreen hedges dotted around the garden. ‘This looks like an abandoned maze.’
‘It is an abandoned maze. I was going to do a Wonderland thing and create a small maze with the wishing well at the end, but then Cleo opened The Wonderland Teapot, and it didn’t seem fair to impinge on her Wonderland theme so I just left it.’
He looks around, his lower lip sticking out as he nods slowly. ‘So what you’re saying is that the opinions of your fellow shopkeepers are more important than your own livelihood…’
‘What? No!’ I should have known he’d read something more into it. ‘They’re not connected. My fellow shopkeepers –friends– are important to me and so is my own livelihood. Those two things don’t belong in a sentence together.’
When his fingers start skimming across the screen of his tablet, I snap at him again. ‘What are you doing? Don’t put that in your tablet!’
‘I need to understand what I’m dealing with here.’
‘I’mwhat you’re dealing with here. I’m not some statistic to be analysed by your AI business software. Don’t put notes about me in that thing.’
He ignores me and continues typing and I wonder if he’s putting a note aboutthisconversation in there.
‘The others have individual concepts, individual fairytales that their businesses are built around. I have all concepts. I have items from all fairytales. It’s not fair of me to take theirs as well.’
‘Regardless of what anyone else thinks, you have a right to make the most ofyourbusiness’s strengths. It’s a cut-throat, dog-eat-dog world out there.’
‘Idomake the most of them, but the garden area is unimportant in the grand scheme of things, and I don’t want to use it to take customers from other businesses on this street. We all help each other out and do our best by each other. This is not the place for that many cannibalistic-sounding metaphors.’
‘Then perhaps we could work on some sort of cooperation with the others. From looking at the street plans, I don’t believe The Wonderland Teapot has any outside space to make their own maze. Maybe we could continue setting one up here that forms some kind of connection – they advertise your maze and you offer a gift voucher for the teashop at the end of the maze, or something along those lines. That way, both businesses can benefit from your outside space. The bookshop too… You say they have gardens, so does the castle, so do you, so perhaps we can join forces with them for a walking tour of Ever After Street’s gardens. Surely there are more ways we can tie in to the other businesses on the street as well, rather than worrying about not treading on their toes.’ He typesthatinto his Tablet of Gloom too, leaving me surprised by the potential in those suggestions.
I’ve often had ideas that I’ve abandoned because I don’t want to steal customers from my friends’ businesses, but leaning into our similarities rather than avoiding them is something I’ve never thought of before. It’s a great idea, and the fact that he’s suggested something so thoughtful has disarmed me and made me drop my guard. Maybe he really is trying to help?
I hurry after him when he makes a beeline towards the well at the other end of the garden, surrounded by crumbling brick walls and a wildflower patch of greenery.
‘Hmm.’ He looks predictably indifferent. ‘Looks like an old well strung up with a load of solar lights. I’m impressed that you’ve managed to convince anyone this is magical. I’d be more inclined to believe it’s a hazard.’
‘Itismagical. Children write their wishes on pieces of paper and drop them down it, and then they come true.’
He looks at me for the longest time, like he’s expecting me to burst out laughing, but I keep my face stony straight. The wishes in this well will always be a special part of the museum for me, and I have no intention of explaining it any further to someone so dismissive.
He peers over the edge and looks down. ‘It’s a good thing it’s got a safety grid because you would’ve been shut down on health and safety grounds years ago if it didn’t have.’
‘Of course it’s got a safety grid. Children falling down wells is terrible for business.’
‘Another thing we can agree on.’
Next to the well, there’s a plastic dispenser box that holds several pens and a few rainbow memo blocks of coloured paper, and I crouch down and get out a green piece of paper and a pen.
‘What am I supposed to do with that?’ His sceptical eyebrow rises ever higher when I hold them out to him.
‘Make a wish, obviously.’ I push the paper and pen nearer to him, gesturing for him to take them. ‘Write your name, age, and address, and then write your wish, fold it up and pop it through the grid. Once it hits the bottom, your wish will come true.’
‘Name, age, and address? That could be termed information harvesting.’
‘It’s not information harv…’ I trail off because the notion is too ludicrous to even repeat. I hoped he wouldn’t bequiteso cynical, especially when I thought he was trying to help just now. ‘How else is the wishing well supposed to know who to grant the wishes for and where they need to be granted?’
His eyes flick between me and the well and he looks like he wants to back away slowly.
