Page 15 of Dreams Come True at the Fairytale Museum

‘This room should be a gift shop.’ Warren is not spending enough time upstairs.

Warren hasn’t been spending enough time upstairs since the other morning when he cleared up the mystery gold thread and then spent the day untethered from his Tablet of Gloom, telling me all the ways he’d change things if he was in charge, and he hasn’t stopped since. ‘Every museum needs a gift shop.’

‘The worst part of every museum is the gift shop! People feel obligated to spend money they don’t have on things they don’t want, especially if they’ve got kids pressuring them. Besides, what would I sell in it?’

‘With that logo we talked about the other day, the possibilities are endless. Any memento that people can take home to remember this place. Something they might catch sight of a year from now and think about coming back for another visit. You have nothing to leave a lasting impression, nothing to remind people of their visit here. Nothing for them to stick on their fridge doors and tell friends when they enquire about it.’

‘I didn’t know friends gathered around fridge doors,’ I say to cover my irritation because he’s right again, which he’s annoyingly good at being.

He gives me a scathing look and I roll my eyes.

‘So I’d have to invest in loads of items, probably hundreds of them per batch, only for them to sit on shelves gathering dust?

It’s a waste of money, and that room is the dressing-up room.

Kids love being able to wear these elaborate gowns for the duration of their visit, it makes them feel like part of the fairytale. ’

‘Yes. It’s going really well, isn’t it? That last child made me feel like I was part of a horror film.’

He’s just witnessed a tantrum from a little girl who had put on a yellow Belle dress to walk around and really objected to having to take it off again when it was time to leave, and had to be wrangled out of it by harassed parents who looked like they’d rather get antibiotics down the throats of a fleet of angry cats than try to get the dress off her.

She hissed at them at one point. Warren looked quite shellshocked afterwards and started googling for local exorcists.

‘It’s a bit of fun. It makes kids feel special and immersed, like a princess or prince.’

‘Apart from the ones who don’t fit in the clothes. For them, it just makes them feel like outcasts.’

‘I have various sizes of dresses and jackets. It’s impossible to have every option to fit absolutely every child, but there are enough options that most kids can find something.

’ I try not to show that I’m quite touched by his sensitivity and thoughtfulness.

This is something I’ve worried about too, and there are often tantrums from a child who wants to wear an item of clothing that is simply the wrong size for them, but these are Disney-inspired clothes that Sadie has made for me or that I’ve found in charity shops and got her to alter.

‘Most of the dresses tie on so they’ll tie on to anyone of any size, and at least the headdresses and crowns fit anyone. ’

‘And then you have issues where kids don’t want to give them back.

’ He was, of course, also present when a parent ran in the other day and returned a tiara after their precious munchkin had snuck out with it hidden under a hooded coat.

I’ve become quite good at surreptitiously running my eyes over kids as they leave to make sure they’re not still wearing anything that belongs here, but it does happen occasionally.

‘Look, I was an oversized kid. Bigger than my classmates and taller than most of my teachers. It wasn’t something I wanted to celebrate.

A room like that would have made me feel like even more of an outsider.

Dressing-up clothes aren’t inclusive enough because they can’t possibly include everybody.

Only the kids that “fit” the clothes can enjoy them.

By trying to include everybody, you end up excluding some anyway.

For kids who don’t fit in, that room is the stuff of nightmares.

It still makes me feel uneasy in a PTSD-type flashbacks sort of way. ’

‘You were bullied?’ I ask, surprised by his openness.

‘No,’ he says swiftly in a way that clearly means ‘yes’ and expertly sidesteps the question. ‘Do you offer school trips?’

I chew on my lip as I look at the defensive stance he’s developed and the way he’s squared his jaw.

I desperately want to know more but I don’t push the topic.

I don’t know him well enough and he’s trying to take over my business so I have shouldn’t have any interest in poking around in his private life.

I try to pretend I’m not intrigued, but it does make me think about the dressing-up clothes.

It wouldn’t be the first time it’s caused ructions.

I thought it was a unique part of the Colours of the Wind experience, but Warren’s view has given me pause for thought.

‘Lissa?’ He waves a hand in front of me like it’s not the first time he’s tried to get my attention. ‘School trips?’

‘Oh, yes, sometimes. School trips can be complicated because the ideal age range is pretty small. If the classes are young enough to believe in fairytales then they aren’t familiar with all of them, and a lot of it goes over their heads.

Old enough and there’s too much peer pressure to appear grown-up and think stuff like this is childish.

I do take them, but it’s usually chaotic and more hassle than it’s worth.

I have to close to other customers to accommodate them and the schools don’t pay as well as the potential customers lost, but generally if a school class wants to come here then I like to have them. ’

‘Hmm.’ He’s standing in front of the reception desk, pushing a clicky pen against his stubbled chin. ‘I wonder if there’s anything we can do there to make it more worthwhile. Of course, if there was a gift shop, loads of schoolkids with pocket money to spend would buy things…’

I reach over and thwack his arm with the papers I was looking through. ‘A day is just not complete for you without extorting money from a child, is it?’

He sidesteps me easily and his laugh sounds warm and genuine. ‘With a school trip, we could extort money from several children at once. A win all round, I’m sure you’ll agree?’

I’m still laughing when a customer comes in, a grandfather with a little boy in tow.

I greet them with my usual cheery greeting, and Warren steps out of the way so they can come up to the counter, and I see the way the grandfather side-eyes him and the little boy clings onto his grandfather’s trousers as he gets his wallet out to pay.

He’s trying to hide behind the elderly man’s leg, all the while peeking at Warren uneasily.

‘Apparently I also terrorise small children,’ he mutters as they walk off, confirming that he did notice it too.

‘You are a little overdressed,’ I venture, trying to be tactful, especially after his mention of clothing-related childhood trauma just now, but really, his suit looks like it’s stepped right out of a fancy business meeting with millionaire banking cronies, and in an easy-going place like this, it makes him stand out like a sore thumb.

‘Overdressed? Do you have any idea how much these suits cost?’

‘More than my monthly household bills, I would imagine, but regardless of what they cost, your look is giving, “I’m senior management, I sit behind a desk all day and have no idea how to connect with real people”.’

I can see him prickling after the ease of earlier, and I wonder if I’ve been too harsh and misjudged the jokey way of getting non-funny points across we’ve developed in recent days, an acquiescence that we don’t have much choice about working together and trying to make the best of it.

‘Yeah, well, I am senior management and I do sit behind a desk all day, and I don’t think you can really criticise my clothing choices, do you, Little Miss leggings and sweater-vest?’

‘It’s a jumper-dress!’ I pull my brown and orange extra-long jumper down to my knees self-consciously, even though my thick black leggings keep any modesty well and truly covered.

‘It’s seasonal and it looks welcoming and approachable.

Unlike your suit collection, which screams…

undertaker. Don’t stand too close, I might embalm you. ’

He choke-laughs at that, but I’m on a roll. ‘And your shoes are so unsuitable that they screech on the floors. It’s off-putting.’

It takes him a moment to recover his composure, and then he clears his throat and pulls himself up to full height.

He’s over six foot but spends most of his time hunched, or bending over, or leaning on something so he rarely looks as tall as he is.

‘It’s a good job I don’t live my life with an onus on on-putting you then, isn’t it? ’

‘It’s not about me. It would help you to remember that you’re not in some stuck-up business meeting now.

We’re easy-going and warm and friendly around these parts.

If you’re staying here, you’re customer facing, or more specifically, my customers have got to face you.

The suits are imposing and unapproachable. ’

‘Good. I am imposing and unapproachable.’

With those words, I see someone desperately trying to put on a front.

No one who is imposing and unapproachable has to tell you so, and I realise there’s something much deeper going on behind the smart suits and guarded attitude, but I don’t know him well enough to dig further into it, even though I want to.

‘It’s autumn. Put on a nice jumper or something. ’

‘A nice jumper?’ Both his eyebrows rise like he needs to look up the definition in a dictionary.

‘Something friendly and cosy. Cuddly.’

‘Cuddly?’ he repeats in horror. ‘I am the least cuddly person on the planet. Why on earth would I…’ He trails off, shaking his head like the thought is too much to bear. ‘There’s such a thing as looking professional, you know.’

‘And there’s also dressing appropriately for your job. Most of my customer base are under-tens. The fancy suits are superior and out of place here. End of story.’

My attempt at being tactful failed miserably, but he’s been here for nearly two weeks now, and I was expecting him to realise for himself that casual clothes are encouraged and much more fitting for a fairytale museum, but he hasn’t, so it was time to say something.

‘Do you have any other complaints about my conduct, dress sense, or otherwise?’

‘Yes, I do, actually.’ I see an opportunity to bring up something else that’s bothered me this week.

‘Can you please not ignore customers if they speak to you? I know engaging isn’t your strong point, but ignoring people is really rude.

I felt so sorry for that little girl yesterday afternoon.

Kids don’t understand that not all adults are open to talking to them. ’

His face screws up in confusion. ‘What?’

‘Yesterday in the Princess Suite. You were standing there, analysing something or other on your Tablet of Gloom, and that little girl started babbling at you. You glanced down and then point-blank ignored her, until her mum gave you a death glare and moved her away. For as long as you’re here, you’re a member of my staff and I will not have anyone treating customers like that.

Even if you didn’t know what to say, you could have at least acknowledged her. ’

I didn’t have an opportunity to bring it up last night, but now I’m glad to get it off my chest. It bothered me, and it was quite surprising after how unexpectedly nice he was to the boy with the enchanted rose.

I assumed he was out of his depth and didn’t know what to say to an excitable little girl, but I can’t have him skulking around, looking like he works here, and then point-blank ignoring any customer who asks him a question.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t ignore anyone.’ He snaps the words out and folds his arms defensively, but his face has gone volcanically red, and I can see his cheeks prickling with heat.

‘I literally watched you. You need to be more mindful in future, okay?’

He pushes out a long breath and closes his eyes like he’s trying to remember yesterday afternoon and then he shakes his head. ‘It was busy… Noisy… I didn’t… I couldn’t…’

He trails off and looks momentarily flustered, but then, in an instant, his body language becomes closed off and it’s like he shuts down.

‘No one talked to me. If you’re making that up as a way of saying I’m spending too much time down here, just say that.

I’d go back to the office if you had one I could use undisturbed. That’s always my choice – undisturbed.’

He grabs his water bottle and stomps back up the stairs, leaving me listening to his irate footsteps across the upper floor, and wondering what button I just unintentionally pushed to get a reaction like that, especially as he seems to have been enjoying getting to know the museum lately, and I haven’t been entirely opposed to having someone to share each working day with.

That was a strange reaction. I got a sense of panic rather than anger or taking offence, and although I know he appreciates directness, I wonder if that was a bit too direct and I shouldn’t have brought it up.

It’s yet another insight into something much deeper going on with him.

There’s more to that man than meets the eye, I’m sure of it.