‘Well, yeah, but—’
‘It’s the first joint effort.’ Bram comes in from out the back and finishes the answer when I get flustered at the slip-up. ‘First time we’ve made something together. The first of many.’
I meet his eyes across the shop and he winks at me, but I feel my cheeks burning under Tabby’s analytical eyes. ‘Would you like one?’
‘Ugh, no, calories!’ She frowns at me with such horror that you’d think I’d offered her a poison apple rather than a chocolate muffin.
‘They’re a trial for Laura’s wedding,’ I say, in case she gets the wrong idea about why Bram and I are making things together.
‘Oh, the wedding!’ She clasps her hands together. ‘It’s going to be a fairy-tale day. I’ve got so much planned for the hen night. I’m doing a pampering session for all the ladies to show them what I’d do at my wellness retreat. The mother of the bride is going to be there. Just about the only person in the universe who has influence over dear daddy Hastings. When she sees what I can offer, she’ll put in a good word for me. Maybe one day we’ll be neighbours on Ever After Street after all.’
‘At least there are no calories in acupuncture needles,’ I say to cover how nervous that makes me. Is she the person who was offered this shop before me? What if Mr Hastings’ wife singing Tabby’s praises and waxing lyrical about literal wax treatments really could influence him into considering that Ever After Street needs a wellness retreat instead of a teashop?
Luckily customers don’t seem to agree because it’s a busy morning – so busy that I have to put Tabby on tea-making duty, and Bram runs himself ragged between bringing dishes to customers and entertaining visitors. He flutters around cards, spinning them, plucking them from mid-air, making things disappear and reappear in different places, tricks that no one can explain logically, and there’s something about his smile when people like what he does. It’s impossible not to watch him, even when I’m supposed to be concentrating on the orders for chicken mayo sandwiches, hot buttered crumpets, and cream teas.
I’m overjoyed when the first person orders a Nutella muffin and a teapot of sparkly tea, and Bram’s eyes are dancing as we both covertly watch her from opposite sides of the tearoom.
Until she digs a fork in and her face contorts in disgust. ‘Excuse me, I think there’s something wrong with this. It’s so salty. I can’t eat it!’
‘Salt?’ I say in confusion as she waves me over.
Bram hurriedly finishes a card trick and comes over too. ‘There’s no salt in it whatsoever.’
‘Oh, there very much is. That’s disgusting!’
My confusion is mirrored on Bram’s face and we give each other a clueless shrug. He takes the muffin away, while I offer the customer something else but end up refunding her entire order when she refuses, looking like she might be scarred for life by the muffin experience.
‘There’s salt in these.’ By the time I’ve finished, Bram’s taken another muffin from the display case, put it on a plate and pulled it apart. ‘Look at that. Those grains in the Nutella and all over the top. Someone’s put salt in this.’
‘How can someone have put salt in it?’ I get a fork out and gather up some of the cake and can’t contain the shudder when I shove it in my mouth. ‘That’s like taking a bite of a tub of Saxa.’ I go to spit the mouthful into the bin, and Bram tries a bit too and quickly follows me.
‘I don’t get it. They weren’t like this last night.’
‘Of course they weren’t like this last night.’ His dark eyes scan the tearoom. ‘Someone’s sabotaged them. Someone’s thrown a load of salt all over them.’
‘No! Who? And why?’
‘Gremlins?’ he suggests seriously.
‘Gremlins?’ I picture the cute creatures from the eighties’ movie. ‘I don’t think we’ve been invaded by gremlins, do you?’
He raises an eyebrow. ‘Well, on the off chance that it wasn’t gremlins, there are only three of us here and it wasn’t you or me. That somewhat narrows it down.’
‘Tabby? Why would she do that?’
‘The question isn’t why, the question is whether she’s done it to anything else.’ He’s at the display case, pulling out plates and serving platters and peering at them. ‘No one else has complained about anything, right?’
I shake my head.
‘Then hopefully they’re fine and it was just the muffins because of what we said this morning.’ He scrunches his fingers for a fork, and when I pass one over, he spears one thing after another and puts them in his mouth one at a time before putting the plates back in the display case. ‘They’re fine. So are they, and those.’
‘Why would she do that?’ Tabby is on her lunch break and I can hear her moving around upstairs and repeat my earlier question, unable to believe that anyone would do this on purpose. Maybe an accident that she was too embarrassed to own up to? The thought that this could be deliberate, that there’s someone out there – or, more specifically, in here, who wants to cause this kind of harm sends a shiver down my spine, and makes me feel apprehensive and unsafe, and like I can’t trust anyone.
‘Oh, who knows with that woman. Probably to get at me because she knew I’d had a hand in making them. Trying to convince my father that a wellness retreat would be a better option than a tearoom in this spot. Just trying to make life difficult. The possibilities are endless. This is why they say never work with children, animals, or exes.’
I think about what I thought last night, about someone being offered this space and then having the offer rescinded when I came along. What if that really was Tabby? It’d be something she’d hold against me. Something she’d want revenge for.
‘Want me to go and have it out with her?’ Bram offers.
I glance upwards, where the upstairs floorboards are creaking. ‘No. There’s enough animosity between you already. I’ll talk to her later.’
‘Salt? I don’t understand. Why would there be salt in them?’ Tabby is either completely clueless about the suspected muffin sabotage, or she could win an Oscar for her innocent look.
‘Someone put it in,’ I say when I corner her in the staffroom before the end of her lunch break.
She regards me for a minute. ‘Oh, and let me guess, Bram suggested it was me.’
‘Well, there are only three of us here and it wasn’t me or him.’ I repeat his words from earlier.
‘Yes, quite convenient. You can’t honestly think I’d be that stupid, can you? Why would I do something that would be so obvious? Don’t you think I’d know that you’d know it was me?’
I go to refute it, but it’s quite a good point actually. There are only three of us here. You’d either have to be totally daft or an evil genius to do something so obvious when you knew you’d be the first suspect, and I don’t think Tabby is either. She’s a bit spoiled, but she’s not stupid and she’s not horribly cruel. I actually think she’s found working with Bram harder than she expected it to be.
‘Maybe a small child got behind the counter when none of us were looking and liberally doused everything with salt. Or maybe you should look a bit closer to home.’ A sinister tone has crept into her sickly-sweet voice.
‘What does that mean?’
