‘How can there be someone new starting?’ Bram says when I fill him in on the phone call from Mr Hastings last night, informing me that he’d hired a new member of staff for the tearoom and to expect them today. ‘Doing what? Playing another character?’
‘I don’t know, but at least he told me this time,’ I say, even though an unexpected call from Mr Hastings on a Sunday evening did nothing for my cardiac health. We don’t need a new member of staff – Bram and I have been managing just fine, but Mr Hastings was unnervingly cagey when I tried to question him, and now it’s Monday morning and I’m wondering what he’s got lined up for us.
The Wonderland Teapot has been open for two weeks today. The days are whizzing past and I simultaneously can’t believe it’s been two weeks already and that it’s only been two weeks, because it’s starting to feel like I’ve never not been here, in a good way.
I’ve hidden away from life for so long and not met many people. I wasn’t sure about how well I’d cope with being thrust headfirst into a customer-facing role, but it’s been a welcome reminder of the times when I used to be happy, and how much I loved the tearoom I grew up in. Our customers are lovely. Almost everyone has embraced the madness of The Wonderland Teapot and been very complimentary, from people who love the books and films and get all the references in the décor, to people who just pop in for a cup of tea and don’t expect the sensory assault of colour and weird things, and leave saying it’s inspired them to read the book.
And then there’s Bram, who makes every day pass in a blur of colour and jokes and producing things from the bottomless caverns that seem to exist behind most people’s ears.
There have been afternoon teas and a couple more Unbirthday parties, and he’s let me come over each night and use his kitchen, with varying degrees of disaster. I seem to be the exception to the ‘practice makes better’ idea, although he hasn’t given up on me yet.
Between us, we made an apple pie and a batch of butterfly cakes yesterday, but not enough to fill the entire display case, so we’re still relying on supermarket-bought goods too. It’s quarter to nine and we’re standing side by side, decorating the raspberry and white chocolate cupcakes we bought last night. I’ve got a piping bag of red butter icing, and he’s got one in white, and we’re piping rose-shaped swirls onto each one, and it’s been surprisingly nice to share the burden with someone. It really has started to feel like we’re in this together and I have a niggling feeling that The Wonderland Teapot is only as special as it is because of what the Mad Hatter brings to it. I’m just a woman wearing an Alice dress, but he is the Mad Hatter. I struggle to find the confidence to engage with people like he does, but he’s got time for every customer, and I’m starting to wonder how I would ever have done this without him.
‘At least they’re early,’ I say at the sound of a knock on the door and go over to open it, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling of Mr Hastings hiring yet another employee without my permission. Having the decency to inform me beforehand only makes me feel slightly less undermined than last time.
The woman standing outside the door is wearing a ruffled red ballgown, poorly hidden under a jacket, with a bright red wig and a gold crown. ‘Let me guess, the Queen of Hearts?’
‘Hello. Tabby. I believe you’re expecting me?’ She does a curtsey for me to admire her huge dress, and holds a hand out. At first I think she’s inviting me to kiss it, but really she’s showing off her red-jewelled rings and the red heart-shaped tips on her stiletto-pointed false nails. ‘Off with everyone’s heads!’
‘Indeed.’ Everything about her has set me on edge, and I can’t help feeling annoyed that I, once again, don’t have any control over who works in my shop. Are random people playing Wonderland characters just going to keep rocking up until the Teapot is so full with employees that there won’t be any space for the customers?
‘You’d better come in.’ I have to give her a chance, don’t I? I thought Bram wouldn’t be an asset at first too, and I was wrong on that front. Customers are loving the Mad Hatter, maybe they’ll also love the Queen of Hearts and enjoy the fully immersive Wonderland experience.
Tabby follows me into the café and stops to look around, and I’m reminded of Bram’s reaction on the first day, his glee and joyfulness, and how it’s the complete opposite of the sneer that darkens her face.
‘Oh, how charming.’ It’s said with a patronising tone and sounds like the way she might critique a nursery school child’s proudly presented first finger painting.
Bram’s gone out the back and stops abruptly when he comes back in, and a stormy look instantly clouds his face. ‘Tabby? What the hell are you doing here?’ His face turns from a storm cloud to confusion. ‘Are you here to see me?’
‘I work here now.’ She smiles a smug smile in his direction. ‘Part time. I’m far too busy to commit to a full-time role.’
‘You… work… here?’ His mouth opens and closes like he doesn’t know what to say. Quite a feat for someone who chats non-stop, whether there’s anyone listening or not. ‘Since when?’
‘Since this morning. Mr Hastings hired me.’ Tabby shrugs the jacket off her shoulders and then holds it out to me, like she’s expecting me to hang it up for her.
‘The staffroom and bathroom are upstairs.’ I pretend not to have understood her hint, and she huffs the layered fringe of her red wig upwards.
‘Did you know I’d be here?’ Bram asks her.
‘Of course. Your father told me.’
‘Why the hell are you still in touch with my father? We broke up two years ago!’
Ahh, and there was me, just about to ask how they know each other. I might have wondered about what kind of person Bram would date, but I didn’t want to actually meet one, live in living colour. Is this the same ex he mentioned the other night? Because she didn’t sound great, to be fair…
‘I can still be civil to people from the past, Bram. He was nearly my father-in-law. Relationships don’t simply disappear on your whims.’
‘He wasn’t nearly your anything.’ Bram’s hands are in such tight fists that it looks like his nails are cutting through his palms and I’ve never seen his mouth set in such a hard line before.
‘So you two know each other?’ I try to ease the tension that’s shot through the room, so tight that it feels like you could pluck the air with a guitar pick.
‘She’s my…’
‘We were engaged.’ Tabby finishes the sentence that Bram seems unable to complete, and then she clearly appraises him. She makes no secret of looking him up and down, and I can see him squaring his shoulders and standing straighter.
Her nose turns up. ‘Why would you do that to your hair? You look like an electrocuted Smurf.’
He plasters on his Mad Hatter smile and gives her a false grin. ‘Because I knew it would drive people like you and my father absolutely crackers.’
‘He wants me to get back with you, you know. Luckily I have a wonderful new boyfriend now, but your father still wants me to see if I can straighten you out.’ She gives him a look of scrutiny. ‘Seems it might be beyond even my powers.’
It rubs me up the wrong way. I might have had plenty of reasons to get annoyed with Bram myself, but no one comes into my tearoom and insults my Hatter. ‘Bram is the best Mad Hatter I’ve ever met. Absolutely no one gets to straighten him out on my watch.’
‘Have you met many Mad Hatters?’
‘Enough to know when I’ve got a good one.’ I dodge around her and go back to the counter. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse us, we still have work to do before opening time. If you’re going to work here, you’ll need to muck-in.’
‘Muck-in? Me?’ She looks so horrified that she must think there’s actual muck involved. ‘Oh, no no. I take my orders from Mr Hastings. He said nothing of the sort. I am to play a Queen. Can you imagine what people would think if they saw a Queen waiting tables?’
‘You can help us cle—’
‘Orf with your head!’ she cries before I’ve finished the word ‘clean’. ‘See? I’m playing a character who would have servants to clean and I am fully committed to the role. I’m sure you can appreciate that, Alice.’ She gives me the same appraising look she gave Bram earlier and it makes me stand taller too.
What the heck is going on here? First I get Bram dumped on me unexpectedly, which hasn’t been an altogether bad thing, then his ex-fiancée turns up, and she’s already got my hackles up.
Instead of letting Tabby’s critical gaze get to me, I pick up the bag of icing I’d put down earlier and continue icing the cakes. Bram and I are working like a well-oiled team. He passes a tray over, spins around me to collect the ones I’ve just finished and place them on the stands in the display unit, and she watches us for a moment. ‘I’m going to freshen up. Bathroom?’
I point out the door to the back room. ‘Through there and up the stairs, you can’t miss it. You can leave your coat up there too.’
Bram watches the doorway, and when she disappears, he jerks his head to get me to step closer to him, and he bends until his mouth is right next to my ear, and his fruity aftershave fills my nose.
‘I won’t tell anyone our secret, but she will delight in it. Be very careful.’
Oh, great. It was hard enough keeping it a secret from him, but now he knows, life has been so much easier. And I trust him, but the thought of someone else working here and finding out my little secret sends my thoughts spiralling. Just when things were starting to go well, I’m once again left in a spin of panic that my little white lie is going to get back to Mr Hastings and he’ll fire me on the spot. ‘Did you know she was coming?’
‘Heck no. Holy green tomatoes, she’s someone I never wanted to clap eyes on again, never mind work alongside.’ He sounds like he’s trying to sound upbeat and jokey to cover how much her appearance has thrown him. ‘Seriously thinking of quit—’
‘Don’t you dare!’ I reach out and grab his forearm, my fingers curling tightly around the sleeve of his lime green jacket. ‘The Wonderland Teapot wouldn’t be the same without you. You’re not allowed to go anywhere, ever.’
He seems flummoxed for a minute, and then his face breaks into the most genuine smile I’ve seen so far this morning. ‘Awww. And all this time, I thought you barely tolerated me.’
‘I barely tolerate you pulling things out from behind my ear. When you’re being yourself, you’re marginally okay.’
‘Be still, my dusty old heart.’ He puts a hand on his chest and gives me a sarcastic grin. ‘And on that note, I’m going to go and empty the recycling bin in case she pokes her nose in there.’
‘Did you see her nails? There’s no way she’s ever been near a recycling bin in her life.’
He lets out a loud unexpected laugh and his shoulders loosen for the first time since she came in. ‘Remarkably accurate. Back in a tick.’ He goes to walk out and then turns back. ‘Cleo? Thanks for saying that about straightening me out. Much appreciated.’
For just a second, he looks insecure and vulnerable, and I think I’ve just got a glimpse of why he hides so much of himself behind a character.
Having taken the supermarket packaging to his car, Bram is back inside by the time Tabby glides into the shop in her ridiculously oversized red ballgown. ‘What are you really doing here? Don’t forget I know you well enough to know that you’d never deign yourself to work in a tearoom if there wasn’t something in it for you.’
‘I’m just here to show willing. I put in an application to take over this building myself, you know. A wellness retreat. I think it would’ve been the perfect fit.’
‘A wellness retreat on Ever After Street?’ I say incredulously. Of all the things Ever After Street needs, I can’t think of anything more misplaced.
‘You know something’s a terrible idea when it rhymes,’ Bram interjects.
‘Well, my bid was unfortunately rejected, and as Mr Hastings was telling me about this place, I thought that what any Wonderland needs is a Queen of Hearts, and I wanted to show Mr Hastings there are no hard feelings and that I can be a valuable asset to Ever After Street too, and maybe next time, my bid won’t be rejected when an opening comes up on the street.’
‘You’re trying to prove you can play nice with other children,’ Bram says. ‘I don’t know what you think you’re going to get out of this. They’ll never agree to a wellness retreat here, it’s the least fitting thing I can possibly imagine for Ever After Street. This is a place where children come to believe in magic. Children are not the target audience for yoga and spa days. Acupuncture for five-year-olds will never catch on. Chemical peels? Eyebrow threading? Back waxes for seven-year-olds?’
‘You are never too young to start looking after yourself,’ she trills. ‘Mr Hastings thinks it’s a wonderful idea but he was outvoted by his fellow councillors.’
She puts a strange emphasis on ‘Mr Hastings’ every time she says his name and I’m not sure why. ‘I agree with Bram, it’s—’
‘No one has ever agreed with Bram.’
I glance up at him. The Hatter grin is plastered onto his face and it looks like he’s fighting to keep it there. Discomfort and defensiveness are pouring off him in waves. He’s still standing near enough that I can nudge my foot against his behind the counter without her noticing. ‘Well, I do. We have Rapunzel’s hair salon – they have a niche of doing Disney princess hairstyles for children and doing adult haircuts as well. A wellness retreat is an adult thing. It would never work on Ever After Street.’
‘We’ll see. I have plenty of ideas. I’m a trained beauty therapist and yoga practitioner, and this place is an untapped customer base. Think of how many knackered parents come here. They must be crying out for beauty treatments. Parents always forget to take care of their own needs and deserve a bit of pampering. For a price, of course.’
‘Are you also going to open a childcare centre? Because most of those knackered parents have got youngsters in tow and there’s nowhere to leave them and pop off for a quick hour of relaxation.’
‘I don’t know,’ she says with a huff.
‘You can burn that bridge when you come to it,’ Bram mutters, another mixed-up saying that might have made me laugh if the tension wasn’t so severe.
‘Oh, what a surprise, look at you being discouraging and negative. You never did support my dreams. That’s what comes from having the ambition of frogspawn.’
Negative and discouraging. That’s the last thing Bram is. And ambition? Admittedly I don’t know much about him, but he loves magic, and I know you don’t get that good at it without a lot more ambition than frogspawn.
A gentle knock on the door makes me realise it’s past 9 a.m., and before I have a chance to go over and open it, Tabby gets in first.
‘Off with your heads!’ She screeches at the two elderly ladies outside the door, and they step back in alarm.
‘Don’t mind her!’ I rush over to reassure the two regular customers who have been coming in for tea and toast most mornings. ‘This is the Queen of Hearts, a new addition from today who won’t be using that greeting on a regular basis. Come in, come in, make yourselves comfortable. The usual? Extra sparkle in your tea?’
They nod and when I go to start it, Bram has already gone to boil the kettle and put bread in the toaster. Because he’s helpful and encouraging, and although all relationships end with a degree of bitterness, he seems nothing like Tabby says, and she seems like the type of person who becomes an ex for many good reasons.