I glance between him and Mr Hastings, who would look less unimpressed if he’d recently swallowed a wasp. There’s nothing to do but let them in.
‘Thank you.’ Bram’s wearing jeans and a grey hoodie, there’s no product in his blue hair and it’s curling around his ears, and he tips his baseball cap to me as they come through the door.
My nerves were already shot this morning, but seeing him, having him near enough to touch again, and seeing that familiar ‘I’m up to something’ twinkle in his brown eyes makes my heart thud harder and I can feel my pulse beating in my fingertips where I’m clenching my hands together. ‘What are you doing?’
The inspector chooses that moment to emerge from the back room with his laptop open in his hands. He stops in his tracks when he sees Bram’s father. ‘Oh, Mr Hastings. I didn’t expect to see you today, sir. Is there a problem?’
‘Yes, there is,’ Bram says to him. ‘We’ve come to stop the investigation. The incidents you’re investigating were deliberate acts of sabotage. They bear no impact on The Wonderland Teapot’s food safety standards. They could not have been prevented by good practices. They were caused by an individual who no longer works here. The problem has been resolved. There’s nothing to investigate.’
I suddenly realise what he’s going to do and grab his forearm with both hands. ‘Tell me you haven’t taken responsibility for this. I know you want to fix things, but this isn’t the way.’ That’s exactly something Bram would do – claim it was him even though it wasn’t.
‘Taken responsibility…’ He glances down at me and blinks for a few moments. ‘I thought you thought it was me.’
‘Of course it wasn’t you.’ I don’t realise how vehemently I knew that until the words pop out of my mouth. ‘It’s the furthest thing from something you’d do. It wasn’t you, Bram. I know that. Don’t you dare say it was.’
‘You thought it was me the other day…’ He raises a dark eyebrow and his lips are twitching like he’s trying not to smile.
‘I was angry and upset and shocked the other day. My mind went automatically to the worst places, but I know you better than that. There’s no way…’
He holds my gaze for a moment, losing the battle against not smiling and letting his lips tip up just enough to dent the dimple in his cheek, and then he does a cheerful shrug. ‘You’re right – it wasn’t me. Dad, if you will…’
Mr Hastings looks between him, me, and the inspector, and then huffs, like he’s got no choice in the matter. ‘I take full responsibility for the incidents that occurred here. When I hired Tabby, I told her about what had happened with Bram – about promising him the tearoom and then finding someone better suited. I told her how guilty I felt over it and how strained things had been between us and how I had made it worse by going back on my word to him. Tabby misinterpreted my meaning – she thought I was asking for help, and took it upon herself to “get the tearoom back”. She thought that if The Wonderland Teapot failed, the tearoom would be Bram’s again, and she would have helped me out – and I would owe her a favour she could cash-in at a later date.’ He turns to me. ‘I’m sorry, Miss Jordan. I had no idea what she was up to until Bram figured it out this week.’
I’m surprised, of course I am, but it’s the kind of surprise that makes perfect sense and answers so many questions. It’s a relief too. I wasn’t imagining it. It wasn’t because I’m in over my head. It wasn’t gremlins. And Bram wasn’t involved. I glance up at him. That’s the main source of my relief. Bram wasn’t involved.
‘Allow me to get this straight, Mr Hastings,’ the food safety inspector says. ‘You’re accepting responsibility for unsafe food being served to the public, without the proprietor’s knowledge, and that all the issues mentioned in the complaint were caused by someone… who thought she was doing you a favour?’
Mr Hastings gives him a brisk nod. ‘No one else is at fault. I should have checked up on Tabby. When I heard the first complaints, I should have made sure there was nothing untoward going on, but I let it slide. Hold me fully accountable.’
He scratches his head. ‘How on earth am I going to word that in my report? May I report it, sir? I do have to be honest and—’
‘Yes, of course you do.’ He flicks a finger towards the laptop. ‘Let’s have a look at that report, lad, see if we can’t figure out perhaps the kindest way to mention it.’
Marnie’s trapped in the back room by the two of them, and she makes eyes at me over the inspector’s shoulder, texting someone on her phone, probably Darcy for rescue.
I glance up at Bram again and he drops his head to rest against mine and murmurs into my hair. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t figure it out until this week. After you left the wedding, Tabby mentioned something about me having the tearoom again now, and the “again” stuck in my mind because no one knew, and I realised that the only way she could’ve known was if he’d told her. It took me a few days to work out exactly what went on and why.’
I’ve still got my hands wrapped around his forearm and I lean up to whisper. ‘What about the food poisoning? That wasn’t an act of sabotage, that was a mistake I made.’
‘I think that’s something that can be shared on a strictly need-to-know basis, and I see no one in this room who needs to know, do you?’
I can’t help smiling as I squeeze his arm. ‘You have every right to shout it from the rooftops.’
‘Nah. Mistakes happen. And we still don’t know for sure that it wasn’t dodgy cheese. Did you know that food poisoning can occur weeks after eating the offending item? There’s no proof it was that partially raw cake. And you more than made up for any mistakes that night. Don’t worry about it.’
I knock my arm against his in a silent thank you. Not just for that, but for doing this today too, especially after everything.
Mr Hastings is leaning over the counter from one side, the inspector is leaning over from the other side and they’re sharing the laptop screen.
‘How’d you get him to do this?’ I’m surprised Mr Hastings has admitted all this so easily, and I get the feeling that Bram has had to do more persuading than he’s letting on.
Bram shuffles us further away for a bit more privacy. He gets his phone out, taps the screen and then hands it to me. It’s showing a photo of a man with hair in alternating neon green and magenta pink spikes, so sharp that they look like you could impale yourself on them, along with facial tattoos and a few piercings. ‘Told him that would be my next look and I’d do the hair dying in his bathroom.’
I laugh. Really laugh. Some might call it a guffaw. And once I start, I can’t stop. I have to duck my head against his upper arm and turn away in an attempt to get myself under control. My eyes are still watering with tears of laughter when I turn back and make the mistake of looking into his eyes, and see them twinkling back at me, a smile playing across his lips.
The tension of the past few days leaves me in a flood and I suddenly know we’re going to be all right, and the relief makes me take leave of my senses. ‘I love you, you absolutely spectacular nut.’
He blinks like he’s trying to process what he’s heard, and slowly, oh-so-slowly, a smile spreads across his face, and his eyes change from twinkling to sparkling. ‘Really?’
I’ve never blushed so hard that it interferes with my ability to speak before, but my cheeks are burning so red that I don’t think I can open my mouth. ‘N—’
I want to deny it. I didn’t even realise I felt like that until the sentence popped out, but it’s unequivocally true. Day by day over the past couple of months, I have absolutely, whole-heartedly, undeniably fallen for everything about Bram, including but not limited to, his fondness for confetti and enjoyment of producing things from behind people’s ears, the way he sings misheard lyrics with complete confidence, and the way he makes every aspect of life feel bright and exciting again.
‘Don’t get me wrong,’ he says quickly. ‘I’m head over heels in love with you too, but I’m not sure if I just had an auditory hallucination because of how desperately I hoped you might feel the same.’
In answer, I throw my arms around his neck and pull him down for a hug, loving the noise of surprise he makes, and even though my back is to the rest of the shop, I can feel three gazes on us. Marnie lets out a cheer.
Bram plants his legs apart to keep us upright as his arms wrap around me and he hugs me as tightly as it’s physically possible to hug another person. My fingers automatically slide up to play with his hair, and his body relaxes against mine as he lets out a long exhale. ‘That’s the best feeling in the world.’
I can’t help grinning at his typical Bram openness. I’ve spent the past five days fearing that I wouldn’t get to hug him again and this feels so good that my eyes are threatening to well up and I have to take a shuddery breath that isn’t as deep as it should be because he’s holding me so tightly.
‘And just in case you think he’s completely heartless, he did genuinely feel awful when he realised how far Tabby had gone. We had a heart-to-heart talk with no egos and no expectations. I don’t think he ever realised how serious I was about taking over the tearoom and I didn’t realise that it wasn’t personal when we saw your application. I don’t know what you said to him the other night but I know you said something, because that chat felt like the first time he’d ever heard me speak. Our father-son relationship isn’t magically mended, but maybe it isn’t a completely lost cause either, and this is the first time I’ve felt like that in years, so thank you.’
I hold him impossibly tighter. There’s so much I want to say, but it’s not the right time when we’ve got an audience of three, but it’s been too many days since I had a hug and I’m not ready to let go yet, no matter who’s watching.
Marnie’s cheer alerted the inspector to her presence, and he’s stepped aside to let her out of the food preparation room, and she comes over. ‘Hate to interrupt, but if you don’t need me any more, I’d better go and relieve Darcy from bookshop duty.’
I reluctantly disentangle myself from Bram and give her a hug instead. ‘Thank you for being the best best friend ever.’
