‘I have my clothes. Cleo can vet them later to make sure they’re suitable. You can trust her judgement even if you don’t trust mine.’
‘Yes, well…’ Mr Hastings looks me up and down, like I’m hardly a candidate for fashion advice, with my hair tied in a messy knot, a baggy T-shirt that takes the place of an apron, and there’s probably flour smeared across my face. He turns back to Bram. ‘Take this anyway. It’s a suit – understated and sophisticated. I’m just trying to help.’ His eyes linger on Bram for a moment, like he wants to say something else, but then he sighs and his gaze returns to me. ‘I’m glad you’re here actually, Miss Jordan. I have a letter for you in my car. I was going to drop it by the tearoom in the morning, but you can save me a trip. If you’ll accompany me outside…’
He shoves the garment bag at Bram, and then jerks his head to indicate that I should follow him.
‘Let me hang this up and I’ll be out too.’ Bram takes the garment bag and catches my eyes as I follow Mr Hastings.
‘I fear you think me unduly cruel, Miss Jordan.’ Outside, Mr Hastings stops at his posh car but doesn’t open it or look at me. ‘I dread to think what my son has told you, but you seem to have achieved the impossible and formed a mutually respectful connection with him.’
‘Oh, we’re not…’
‘He listens to you. It’s been years since he listened to me. He just won’t…’ Mr Hastings makes a noise of frustration. ‘If he could just look… normal. Get a proper job. Something with security. Long-term prospects. A pension plan. There’s no future in bleedin’ card tricks, is there?’
‘What he does is so much more than card tricks. He’s exceptionally talented. He makes people believe in the impossible, and doing that makes him happy.’
‘I had a future all lined up for him,’ Mr Hastings continues as though I haven’t spoken. ‘In-demand qualifications. A well-paying job. And he goes and throws it all away to toss around cards and throw confetti. I only want what’s best for him, and I don’t understand what he wants from life. I don’t know how to make him see…’
‘Maybe it’s you who could see it from his point of view,’ I say carefully, feeling hideously out of my depth. Mr Hastings obviously needed to vent, and he’s chosen to do it to me, but he’s still my terrifying boss. Does he really want my input on this? ‘All he wants is what any of us want – to be happy and to be loved.’
‘I do love him. I do want to see him happy. I just…’ He sighs and shakes his head. ‘The distance between us is growing and I don’t know how to reach him. I try, but all I end up doing is pushing him further away.’
‘Just because he’s different to you doesn’t make him wrong. There’s plenty of space for both of your viewpoints, but—’
We both look up as the door opens and Bram comes out.
‘I know what it’s like to lose a parent without making amends,’ I say quickly. ‘Any compromise is worthwhile before it’s too late.’
‘’ello, why are my ears burning?’ Bram bounces down the steps, suspicious eyes looking between us.
‘I was just getting an update on the catering from Miss Jordan,’ Mr Hastings says. ‘Which brings me nicely to my point. I wanted a word about some complaints we’ve received.’ He opens the passenger door of his car and extracts an envelope from the glovebox, and hands it to me.
I tear open the ominous-looking brown paper, glad the outside floodlights are bright enough to read by.
Food Safety Warning is stamped in big red letters across the top.
Due to a number of complaints received about the quality of food served at your establishment, the local authority deems it necessary to complete a food safety inspection. An inspector will arrive onsite at nine o’clock on 31 May. This appointment is non-negotiable.
If shortcomings are found, steps must be taken to ensure these incidences do not occur again. If serious issues are found, then we will be forced to insist that you cease trading with immediate effect.
Please ensure you are following correct hygiene protocols and that your business is closed on the given date and you are available to answer the food safety inspector’s questions and co-operate fully with our investigation.
Bram is reading it over my shoulder and he scoffs. ‘This is ridiculous.’
‘We’ve had some complaints about The Wonderland Teapot.’ Mr Hastings scuffs the toes of his shiny shoes against the gravel, looking uneasy. ‘There are reviews talking about salty muffins. A complaint about brownies. Even a case of food poisoning, so I hear.’ His eyes flick to Bram. ‘It all seems to be coming back to you, Miss Jordan. I’ve tried my best to help, but this really can’t be ignored any longer.’
I’m surprised Bram told him about the food poisoning. I don’t blame him, but considering how often he’s taken responsibility for things that were my fault, I didn’t think he’d rush to tell his father about that.
‘The council’s food safety team will send an inspector to have a look around. While I’m sure it’s not your doing, we have to take these things seriously and handle them with empathy. If you aren’t doing anything wrong and these complaints are merely fictionalised, you’ve got nothing to worry about.’
‘You can’t blame Cleo,’ Bram says. ‘Things have happened that are beyond anyone’s control. It’s a new business. There are gremlins sharpening their teeth.’
His father gives him a scathing look and Bram rolls his eyes. ‘Metaphorical gremlins. I don’t think there are actual gremlins.’
At least he clarified that because there are times when I haven’t been sure. Mainly, I appreciate the way he sticks up for me, no matter what.
‘Gremlins or not, Abraham, I don’t appreciate having my ear chewed off by the head of the environmental health department, or the insinuation that I am not keeping on top of the eatery establishments in my jurisdiction.’
‘It’s impossible to prove,’ Bram says.
‘Impossible or not, the establishment must take full responsibility, financial liability, and learn from mistakes made. If you’re not willing to comply, Miss Jordan, maybe you don’t belong on Ever After Street after all.’
‘I’ll comply.’ I pull myself up taller and puff out my chest.
‘Jolly good. I wouldn’t have expected anything less.’ With one final look at Bram, he walks around to the driver’s side of his car. ‘My apologies for interrupting your evening. As you were.’
I hold the letter out in front of us. ‘You can’t make that disappear with an abracadabra, can you?’
‘No, but you can make it into a paper rose, and one day we’ll display it in your tearoom when this is nothing but ancient history.’
Mr Hastings gets into his car and starts up, giving us a wave through the windscreen as he reverses with a spray of gravel.
‘Don’t take it personally. If there’s one thing people are always going to do, it’s complain. What we need to do before that inspection is find a way to prove Tabby tampered with those cakes and that it wasn’t something we did.’
‘And if we can’t?’ I sigh. ‘And even if we can, what difference does it make? I should have been overseeing things. Having a staff member tampering with the cakes is just as bad. I’m the one who’s taken my eye off the ball. And either way, does it stop me being shut down? Does it change the fact that people have been ill after eating at my tearoom?’
‘Yes. Yes, it does. Because she’s not your staff member. She’s employed by the council. She’s his responsibility. Lie down with dogs and… you have a great time. Dogs are brilliant. Who wouldn’t want to lie down with them?’
It makes me laugh even though laughing is the last thing I feel like doing. He’s said it in his nasally Hatter voice, just high-pitched enough to let me know he’s bothered by this too.
