‘Wow. I feel like I could work here for a week and I still wouldn’t have seen everything.’ Now he’s twirling the red and black card suit bunting that’s hanging in the front window, and then he turns back to the painted lettering on the wall behind the counter. ‘Good choice of quote. I would’ve gone with “we’re all mad here”.’
‘Not all of us are mad…’
‘Ahh, some of us are mad enough for everyone.’ He gives me a lopsided grin that seems like a well-practised response to something he’s heard many times.
That word again. Everything seems to be coming back to that word this morning. ‘Are you mad?’
‘Oh, undoubtedly so. Completely bonkers. Team Basketcase all the way. As barking as a box of soapy frogs. Barmy as the March Hare. Got a kangaroo loose in the top paddock. An aardvark in my arcade. But I wouldn’t be much of a Mad Hatter if I wasn’t.’ He inclines his head towards me and his stack of hats slip forward. ‘At your service.’
I don’t intend to smile at this uninvited man who’s just invaded my business, but I can’t help it.
‘But I’ll tell you a secret…’ His voice has risen to that higher pitch again.
‘All the best people are?’ I offer.
‘Ah ha! That’s what I was going to say. High fi—’ He goes to high five me but pulls his hand back sharply. ‘I’m sorry, I was going to suggest a high five but I momentarily forgot that I’m not currently entertaining children and no adult with an ounce of decorum would do a high five. My deepest apologies for being so painfully uncool.’
His look of shame makes me laugh. ‘I’m a thirty-four-year-old dressed as Alice. We passed uncool long ago.’
‘Your costume looks great. This whole thing is so… clever. Unusual. People will come from miles around. It’ll be a real success.’
‘I hope so.’ His words give rise to a fear that I’ve tried not to think about. What if Alice is too quirky for most people? What if people liked Lilith’s non-fairy-tale-themed tearoom as a break from all the Disney-ish shops on Ever After Street? What if grinning cats and over-sized flowers are scary for little ones and people don’t want to come here? What if I’ve put all this work in and it falls flat on its face within days?
When I blink back from the anxious thoughts, Bram has shrugged his bag off his shoulder and is holding it out in the direction of the kitchen area. ‘All right to go through? I’ll just put this out of the way.’ He disappears through the staff-only door without waiting for an answer.
‘It’s upstai—’
‘I know,’ he calls back from halfway up the stairs. ‘I used to help Lilith out all the time.’
Did he? Is that what Mr Hastings meant by someone who already works for them? I glance at one of the many clocks dotted around the walls. I don’t have time to think about it. It’s ten minutes to opening time and I’ve still got roses made from apples to arrange on top of supermarket-bought custard tarts.
There’s a teapot sculpture on the counter, one that Mickey from The Mermaid’s Treasure Trove gave me for nothing because it had a chip in it. I’ve arranged it on a fancy plate, glued fake grass around it and added foam roses coming out of its spout, and there’s a spray of playing cards arranged on wire so it looks like they’re bursting out of the open lid. I tuck the Queen of Hearts card he gave me in amongst them, wash my hands, and return to what I was doing before the unexpected interruption.
Within a few minutes, Bram comes back downstairs and he can probably see the concentration on my face as I manipulate thin strips of apple into a shape that starts to resemble a rose because he stays mercifully quiet as he watches me.
‘Now that’s magic.’ His tone sounds genuinely appreciative as I finish one off with a sprinkle of edible glitter and slide it onto the cake stand display. ‘Did you make all this yourself?’
‘Yes!’ I bark a bit too sharply.
‘Wow. You must’ve been baking since 3 a.m.’
‘Something like that,’ I mutter. My own defensiveness is going to give me away faster than anything else at this rate. He has no reason to suspect I haven’t made all of this stuff myself – it’s me who feels guilty about it and I’m projecting that guilt onto everyone else.
‘Can I help?’
‘No, thank you. I don’t need your help. I don’t know why the council thinks I do.’ I’m trying not to let my feelings cloud my judgement, but I’m hurt and feeling undermined that Mr Hastings and his cronies have so little faith in me that they’ve sent in some kind of tearoom babysitter. This was supposed to be my venture, something that I was going to do on my own, for me. I had no intention of hiring any staff. I’ve been let down before when it comes to running a tearoom, because that’s what other people always do – they let you down.
‘They don’t.’
I finish another apple rose on another custard tart and slide it onto the display stand and then start the next one. It takes me a second to realise he’s answering my previous sentence and not the thought in my head. ‘No? Then what exactly are you doing here?’
‘Anything you want me to. You’re the boss. I’m just an entertainer, here to amuse the customers with card tricks and bonkersness. I can help wait tables or serve people when it’s busy, and I’ll even do the washing up if you like.’
I let out a reluctant laugh. ‘I don’t know if anyone has ever uttered a more alluring line than that.’
‘Washing up wins everyone over in the end.’ He laughs too. ‘Look at what you’ve done with this place. The one thing that’s blatantly obvious is that you don’t need any help whatsoever. I won’t get in the way, I promise. You won’t even know I’m here.’
I look at him. Just under six foot of blaring colour, blue hair, and three hats. This is not someone who is going to blend into the background and let me get on with things.
‘Hey, maybe it’ll be so busy that you’ll need my help. So many customers that one person can’t keep up. That’s what every business owner on Ever After Street wants, right?’
Am I a business owner on Ever After Street? I thought I was, but him turning up has left me feeling like I’m subject to the council’s every whim, and I clearly have no say whatsoever until I pass this three-month trial. Right now, I’m an employee of the council. It’s only when they extend my lease that I’ll get any autonomy over my own business, and who knows what could go wrong in that time.
‘Come on, Hatter and Alice serving tea and cake. It’ll be fun.’
‘Why do I think you’d say that about things like jumping out of a plane attached to a bungee cord or eating the world’s hottest chilli pepper?’ I concentrate on another apple rose rather than looking at him in all his overly jolly brightness.
‘Nah. I don’t like heights. Or flying. Or spicy food, for that matter. I’m quite boring really.’
Now that, I do not believe.
At my lack of response, he disappears through the doorway into the back room and I hear the kettle click on. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Tea?’ His voice sounds confused from the food preparation room.
‘It’s…’ I glance at the many clocks on the wall. The clocks were a terrible idea. Each one says a slightly different time. I take an average and guess. ‘…8.57 a.m.!’
‘Always time for tea!’ he calls back in that cheery, high-pitched Hatter voice again.
