In that one simple sentence, he’s given me all the answer I needed. ‘What that means is there’s a conversation to have. That wasn’t supposed to be your answer. You were supposed to say, “Pfft. What? No, of course not, I left the carousel for some completely different and totally unrelated reason.” Why aren’t you saying that, Bram?’
‘Cleo…’ He reaches a hand out towards me but it ends up hanging limply in mid-air.
I scramble onto my feet before he can get any closer and start pacing. Except there are so many of our colleagues packed into this room that there’s barely space to move, and ‘pacing’ involves taking two steps between Marnie and Franca and back again before I walk into Sadie. It feels like the world is crumbling in on itself, and I’m right back to where I was two years ago. Adrift in a bank, with a business plan and a bank manager who was waiting for two. Phoning and phoning my ex, desperately pleading for him to answer, telling the staff that he must’ve been in a car accident on the way because there was no chance he wasn’t coming. Checking the traffic reports to see if there were roadworks that he could be stuck in, and he’d obviously forgotten to charge his phone… And then the slow, seeping realisation that he really wasn’t coming. I always imagined it was like a bride would feel on her wedding day if she was left standing at the altar. And this feels the same. Watching the dream splinter before my eyes. Let down by another man who I’d put my trust in. The only person I’ve trusted, the only person I’ve let into my life at all in years. All the doubts that Tabby has instilled converge at once overwhelm me.
‘Why don’t we go for a walk?’ Bram’s eyes flick to mine but again, he looks away at the exact moment our eyes meet.
‘I’m not going anywhere until you explain this.’ I fold my arms. I want his explanation now. Not in ten minutes’ time when he’s had a chance to concoct some reasonable story as we have a pleasant stroll through the castle grounds. Now.
He takes a deep breath and exhales for so long that his lungs must be burning. I see him look around the room and he eventually sighs in resignation. ‘Lilith couldn’t continue because of her health, her family kept the tearoom going for a while but it was temporary, they had their own jobs to get back to, and she eventually reached a deal with the council to buy the building from her. My father had an empty tearoom with no one to run it, so he threw it open to applications, and none were suitable. He had thirty applicants, and not one of them was the right fit. I was at his office when he was looking through them, and I took a chance. I was ready to do something different from the carousel, and I love baking, so I took a massive leap of faith and said, “Let me do it.” I thought he’d laugh, but he didn’t. He said yes. I thought he was finally trusting me with something – something big. I thought he was finally treating me as an adult, allowing me a shop of my own. He’s always made fun of my baking, joked that I’d never be any good, it’s not a “manly” enough job, and I felt like he was giving me a chance. He was finally believing in me. The applications hadn’t closed, but he’d given up on finding anyone, so we put the plan into action. He hired Joshy, I started planning what I’d do with the place, and then another application came in, and it blew everything out of the water. Everyone had always said there should be Alice in Wonderland representation on Ever After Street, but nothing had ever come of it. And there you were with your Wonderland Teapot idea – the perfect fit. Exactly what this street needed. That’s all there is to it.’
‘That’s not all there is to it though, is it? You’ve lied to me from the very beginning. You must have resented me. It was going to be your shop, and then suddenly you were downgraded to working for me. Washing up, waiting tables. What an insult that must’ve been.’
‘Not at all. Cleo, you wash up. You take food to waiting customers. I would’ve been doing that no matter what, just like you do. It makes no difference. People don’t realise how lucky they are to have the ability to do menial jobs. It’s nothing to complain about.’
I’ve always loved his attitude, and I never, ever expected to be questioning whether it was genuine or not, because I’m suddenly doubting every word Bram has ever said. ‘Why did you help me? Why let me use your kitchen? If you wanted to take over the tearoom, you could’ve just left me serving supermarket-bought cakes. I’d have slipped up eventually and been found out.’
‘I didn’t want you to slip up. I wanted what was best for Ever After Street. You had the imagination to come up with everything in that tearoom, but you’d lost your spark. And this was your dream. It was an opportunity for me, but it was a lifelong dream for you. I didn’t want to stand in the way of that. Yeah, I was angry at first. He pulled the rug out from under me by going back on what was planned. He offered me the Hatter job as a consolation prize. I’m not going to pretend I wasn’t upset. Disappointed. But I believe in making the best of things. What good does it do to be bitter and resentful? Throwing a tantrum wouldn’t change anything… and I didn’t want it to. Alice in Wonderland was inspired. I couldn’t have come up with anything like that. I know I should’ve told you, but I didn’t, and now it’s too late to change that.’
He’s not wrong there, and I appreciate the way he tackles things with head-on candour, but that also makes this even worse. ‘You’re so honest, Bram, about everything. You blurt out whatever you’re thinking, but this… this one major thing, you kept quiet about. I even asked you outright and… you didn’t tell me. You told me you didn’t know anything about it.’ I thought Bram was different. I thought he was the one person in my life who could be relied on to say things as they are, and I can’t get my head around the fact that he isn’t.
He rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands and his words are muffled through them. ‘I knew what you’d think.’
‘What I think is that all along I’ve thought Tabby was sabotaging what we’ve been doing because she wanted the building… but if she didn’t… if she hasn’t… who has?’
He sighs and looks up at me. ‘Oh, come on, really? How many times do we have to go through this?’
‘Until it makes sense! Why would anyone sabotage our bakes? The only possible explanation is that it’s someone who wants The Wonderland Teapot to fail so they can step in when it does. Who else would be lurking on the sidelines, waiting on tenterhooks for me to crash and burn?’
He gets up and tries to pace too, and a couple of people move aside to give him more space. ‘Why would I do that? I’m not going to be accused of something I haven’t done. And if you don’t believe me, that’s up to you. I can’t prove it either way so there’s no point in trying. I’ve done nothing but help you, and if you can’t see that…’ He sighs and turns away, a wobble in his voice. He’s clearly hurt and it makes my heart constrict and the urge to go and slip my arms around him dances just out of reach.
Am I being too harsh? I’ve never doubted him for a second, but now, everything is blurred. He’s been dishonest about something so important, and now I’m questioning if there was a hidden agenda behind everything. I’ve once again started to rely on someone who’s turned out to be unreliable. Last time, my plans fell through because my ex let me down, and I still haven’t learned the same lesson. Staying at home and shutting out the world was the right idea – I should’ve stuck with that.
‘Since the moment I walked in on that first morning, the only thing I wanted was for it to succeed, because it’s brilliant. Because you’re brilliant, and because you belong on Ever After Street.’
‘We agree with that.’ Marnie nudges me kindly. Bram and I are both het-up: both our voices are rising, I’m wringing my hands together and he’s pacing with angry stamps, and she’s trying to defuse matters.
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. The past two months are playing out in my mind like a DVD stuck on repeat, except it’s like I’ve watched the film without understanding the dialogue and suddenly someone’s put the subtitles on. ‘You even told your father about the food poisoning. Which you had every right to do, obviously, but I was surprised.’
‘No I didn’t. I don’t tell my father anything.’ He fixes me with a hard stare. ‘But you told Tabby.’
I think back to what he means. After the food poisoning. The day both Tabby and Bram were fully back in work and I wanted him to take longer off. I was worried about him, I kept checking to make sure he was okay, and Tabby noticed and asked why I was so bothered. I said he hadn’t been well, and she’d jokingly said, ‘It wasn’t food poisoning, was it?’ and I’d laughed just a tad too hysterically, and my overcompensation was clearly enough to tip her off.
‘I’ve done nothing but throw myself headfirst into this and I’ve loved every minute of it. I’ve loved every minute with you. I’ve been… God, I’ve been so happy with you. I’ve looked forward to seeing you every morning.’ He shakes his head and sits down again with a sigh. ‘And this is what you think of me. For the past couple of months, I’ve been so secure because we’ve had each other’s backs. So comfortable in my own skin because you liked me. And this one thing… you’re going to let it make you doubt everything you know about me?’
‘One thing you lied about!’ I snap at him, even though it makes my stomach plummet with guilt. Do I really doubt everything I know about him? The beautiful soul I’ve got to know behind the loud character, something he’s never hidden from me… I can’t believe there was anything false about that, and yet, it doesn’t fit with the bitterness he’s just admitted to. He was angry at first. Resentful. He never showed a hint of that to me. He hid it behind his sunny Hatter smile. How many other things have been hidden behind card tricks and mixed-up sayings that made me laugh out loud while he was seething on the inside? ‘Don’t try to make me feel like I’m doing something wrong by not trusting you when you haven’t been honest and have let me carry on believing that all the problems were down to your ex on a quest for revenge, and not…’ I trail off. I can’t bring myself to say outright that he is the saboteur. It doesn’t sit right, despite all this.
‘Well, unless the tearoom really is full of gremlins, it has to be one of the three of us, and it wasn’t me or you.’
‘How can I ever believe that?’ I say quietly as sad realisation hits me. This changes everything, whether I want it to or not. The one thing I thought I knew about him was that he was too honest for his own good, but he’s let me down – as people always do. I want to believe him, but I can’t.
‘Because you know me better than that.’ His eyes are damp and it makes my heart jump into my throat and feel like it’s beating there. I’m still fighting the urge to hug him because it’s natural to comfort someone you care about when they’re upset.
I hadn’t realised how much this would hurt him. I didn’t want to hurt him. I know he’s let me in where he’s always kept others at arm’s length. I know he’s opened up to me, but that doesn’t excuse what else he’s done. It doesn’t change the outright lies. And it doesn’t take away the main thought that’s filling my brain. Was he trying to help me – or was he trying to make sure that he won’t be second choice next time?
Silence falls. I can see the others getting twitchy. They want to say something, do something, anything to disperse this awkwardness. Lissa goes to speak and then thinks better of it. So does Darcy, but he also reconsiders before any words come out.
With hindsight, maybe this was a conversation Bram and I should have had in private to spare the others witnessing the supernova explosion of our relationship.
‘There you are! I’ve been looking for you everywhere!’ After a few endless minutes of uncomfortable silence, the door opens and Mrs Willetts bursts in. ‘After a heck of a delay and many panicked phone calls, the wedding cake has finally arrived and Laura wants to cut it immediately and pose for photos. Hurry up, Bram! You too, Cleo! Laura wants to thank you personally and asked me to send you in if I found you. Should’ve known I’d find you together.’ She waggles her wiry eyebrows, clearly not having a clue what she’s just walked in on.
Bram pinches the bridge of his nose. ‘It’s not a good time.’
‘Your family will have my guts for garters if I let you miss the cutting of the cake. I can handle your father, but I’m not tangling with your sister on her wedding day. Now, come on, off with you.’ She pushes at his shoulder hard enough to get him moving, and he looks back at me.
I have no intention of getting involved in this and I’m about to tell Mrs Willetts to tell Laura I’ve already left when her age-spotted hand wraps around my wrist in a vice grip. ‘You too, Cleo, you’re not getting out of it that easily.’
I feel like Bram and I are naughty children being marched to the headteacher’s office as she drags us through the vast hallway and towards the wedding party’s ballroom, and no amount of wriggling persuades her to free either of us.
We’re both still protesting as she pulls us into the ballroom and the three of us make enough of an entrance that every eye in the room swivels towards us, and the only thing that finally makes Mrs Willetts let go is the squeaky sound of wheels on the wooden floor from behind, and a shout of, ‘Coming through!’
All three of us dive in different directions as a trolley is wheeled in, carrying the most beautiful wedding cake. It’s four tiers high with a plastic bride and groom on the top, and decorated with cream coloured butter icing and delicate iced pink roses and has green leaves around the base of each tier as iced rose petals float down the sides to the tiers below.
Also on the trolley are custom-made stands displaying matching cupcakes in a waterfall formation. Matching rose cupcakes… Oh no. Oh no. It can’t be. Not those cupcakes.
It’s all right, I tell myself. No one will know. Only Mr Hastings and Mrs Willetts were at the interview. They won’t recognise them. I don’t know if the other man is here as well, but he wasn’t overly interested at the time. No one will remember a few cupcakes so many weeks later. Of course they won’t.
‘Oh, hurrah!’ Mrs Willetts squeals in delight. ‘Finally, your rose cupcakes! I knew you wouldn’t withhold them at a wedding. I’ve been wanting another one of these since the day we met. You don’t mind, do you?’ She helps herself to one from the stand and peels the case off eagerly.
