Page 35 of Dreams Come True at the Fairytale Museum

‘You think you’ve lent me this as a disguise, but I’m actually going to put it on.

’ Warren settles the red cape around his shoulders and ties it at the front as we walk down the steps from the museum.

‘Reading all those wishes has made me realise that it’s never too late to indulge your inner child.

And now you get to walk down the road with a full-grown man wearing a cape and you’ve only got yourself to blame. ’

I can’t help giggling at his childlike grin.

I never in a gazillion years would have imagined that the sharp-suited, uptight man who I found in my lobby six weeks ago would voluntarily wear a Disney prince’s cape.

‘Luckily it’s dark and I’m firmly of the belief that no one is ever too old to wear a cape. It suits you.’

‘Being here suits me. This. You actually grant wishes for children, Liss. That’s such a privilege.’

‘It is.’ It’s impossible to hide my delight that he gets it, and I hadn’t realised how much I wanted him to.

I’m carrying the boxed teddy bear and the package containing the cape, and as we turn the corner at the end of Ever After Street and go through the car park, Warren’s got his phone out and is checking the route on his GPS app, and he quickly realises that I wasn’t exactly honest about how far away the houses are.

‘I thought these houses were only fifteen minutes away! It’s going to take us nearly an hour to walk there!’

‘I meant fifteen minutes away from each other, I didn’t specify how far from here. Besides, it’s a beautiful evening. Look at the stars! Look at the trees! Feel the wind blowing your cape!’ I look over and meet his eyes. ‘And it was getting a bit… overcrowded inside tonight, don’t you think?’

He gives me that curious look again, like he knows I’m getting at something, and his response comes out as more of a mutter than he probably intended. ‘You can say that again.’

It sounds pained, and I can only imagine what it’s like to be in a room full of people, all talking at once, and to be struggling to hear while also desperately trying to hide it, and more than anything, I wish I’d known.

I wish he’d told me, because I would never have put him in that position tonight.

It’s 8 p.m. and darkness has long since fallen, and as we get further away from Ever After Street and onto quiet country lanes, Warren double-checks his phone to make sure we’re on the right path and then turns around and walks backwards again so he’s facing me, and now I know it’s because he’s making sure he can see my lips moving, it hurts like a physical blow that he feels like he needs to do it rather than being open.

‘Don’t do that.’ I transfer the box and package so they’re both under my left arm and then reach out with my right hand until he takes hold of it, and then I use my grip on his fingers to pull him nearer again. ‘I don’t have to speak. We can just walk without a word being said.’

He blinks in surprise for a few moments, and then silently falls back into line beside me and drops my hand, and I wonder if I should have given such an open hint, because this is obviously something he doesn’t want anyone to know about, but at the same time, now I know, I have to know all of it, no matter whether he’s ready to share or not.

Time passes as we walk side by side in silence, punctuated only by the occasional falling leaf or call of a fox from the fields on the other side of the road, and I hear his intake of breath a couple of times, like he’s building himself up to saying something but never managing to get the words out, and I keep looking over at him, trying to smile encouragingly, and fighting the urge to reach over and take his hand again, but with him walking normally, I can’t think of an excuse to do so.

‘You know, don’t you?’

It’s almost a relief when he finally faces it head on and I look over at him and nod.

‘Because of Ali’s comment just now?’

‘No. I already knew, but Ali’s comment made me realise what it was that I knew, does that make sense?’

‘No! Not even slightly!’ He looks over and meets my eyes. ‘Which I’m starting to see is part of your charm.’

It makes me blush, and I decide to be honest with him too. ‘And you know about the exhibits, don’t you?’

‘Of course I do,’ he says with a good-natured laugh, sounding glad of the lighter subject. ‘Long before they just admitted it in front of me and forgot I didn’t know.’

I start to apologise for not being open with him about it, but he stops me. ‘It doesn’t matter, Liss. I’m an outsider, I know that, and you’re all very protective of each other. Scarily protective.’

His hand goes defensively around his throat again and he makes a face of abject terror, and I can’t help giggling, but I’m also not leaving the hearing thing there. ‘You know you have to tell me, right?’

‘No, I don’t think I do. I think we could just pretend this conversation never happened and carry on working alongside each other in blissful ignorance.’ He’s smiling and his tone sounds jokey, but I suspect that if I agreed, this would be his preferred plan.

‘That doesn’t work for me.’

‘As I knew it wouldn’t.’ His smile turns into a sigh and he looks off into the distance. ‘When I was twenty-two, I was diagnosed with Ménière’s disease.’

‘I’ve never heard of that,’ I admit, wishing I had more hands because my fingers twitch towards my phone to google it, but I’m going to drop these gifts if I try to juggle that as well.

‘It’s a chronic inner-ear disorder. Causes bouts of vertigo, tinnitus, and hearing loss in my left ear. It progresses with age so it’s getting worse as I’ve got older.’

‘If I’d known, I’d have never invited so many people over tonight.’

‘Yes, you would, because I will not have people changing their plans to accommodate my failings.’ There’s a sharp look in his eyes and a determined set to his jaw, and when I go to protest that it’s not a failing, he doesn’t let me.

‘But yes, I was struggling tonight. One on one is fine as long as I can see someone’s lips moving, but with so many voices all at once, everyone talking to each other as well as to everyone else at the same time, I got really lost, and then I misheard the name Ali said for the tag and made it so obvious, right there on display for everyone to see, and I just needed to get out of there.

’ He steps closer and nudges his elbow gently into my arm.

‘Thank you for recognising that and coming to rescue me.’

‘Says the man in a superhero cape.’

He laughs and does a twirl, his Disney prince cape spinning out around his shoulders and then catching up with itself all at once to thwack him round the face.

‘For what it’s worth, no one else put two and two together.

They don’t know you like I do,’ I say, as he straightens it out again.

Would it really be such a big deal if anyone had realised the truth behind his quietness tonight?

If any of my friends had known that he was struggling to hear, they would have made a huge effort to ensure he could, we all would.

I know it isn’t as simple as sounds, he’s obviously got some issues around this and I feel like I shouldn’t push too intensely and let him talk in his own time, so I venture gently, ‘Is there anything that helps?’

‘Staying hydrated. That’s why I’ve always got a bottle of water with me. And the reason those crisps were so bad was because it supposedly helps to avoid salt, but—’

So many little things. It’s like a crushing realisation and it makes me grab his arm to pull him to a halt, put the boxes down the on the pavement and throw my arms around him again.

This affects every aspect of his life and he’s fighting so hard to keep it hidden.

There are so many things about him that didn’t make sense, but now do, and I don’t know what to do other than hug him to bits.

I knew he was hiding something, and all along I’ve thought it was something underhanded, and I had absolutely no idea it would be something like this.

He laughs at the unexpected hug. His arms slide around my back and he bends until he can lift me off the floor. ‘What’s got into you tonight? It’s just a… thing… I have to deal with. You don’t have to hug me to within an inch of my life.’

I squeeze him tighter and nod hard, knowing he’ll feel it, because if there’s one thing I desperately do need to do tonight, it’s hug him.

I feel his face shift through my giant scarf like his smile is widening, and we cling onto each other for a little while, until something changes and I can sense his body language tightening up.

‘And you certainly don’t have to feel sorry for me.’ He abruptly plonks me down and stalks away, and I have to grab my box and package and catch up to him.

‘I’m not hugging you because I feel sorry for you,’ I explain when I realise why his body language changed so abruptly.

‘I feel bad for all the things I didn’t know.

I accused you of being a spoilt only child when you asked me to talk to you.

I’ve said – and thought – so many things about you because I didn’t understand. ’

‘I don’t mind that. I’d rather people think things like that about me than know the truth.’

He’s clammed up now we’ve gone back to walking side by side, and I’m making an effort to turn towards him every time I speak, determined to ensure he doesn’t stop opening up yet, even if he is more than ready to. ‘Do you get the other things as well? The vertigo and tinnitus?’

‘They come and go. Bouts of vertigo usually pass quickly. Tinnitus drives me mad for weeks on end and then stops until the next time.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ I ask the question that’s screaming the loudest to be answered, because everything would have been so much easier if he’d told me straight away, but what he said about accommodating his failings is replaying in my head too, and I feel like he’s got a distorted vision of how people might react.

‘Are you kidding? I don’t tell anyone.’ He lets out a scoff and then looks worried. ‘And you can’t either. I don’t want anyone to know about this, ever. You have to promise me, Liss. No one can know.’

‘I promise.’ I rush to reassure him because he sounds so urgent, and every doubt he’s ever had about trusting me is flashing across his face all at once.

‘Thank you.’ His sigh of relief is the loudest I’ve ever heard. ‘Apart from my mother, you’re the only person I’ve ever told. I haven’t got my head around talking about it yet.’

I try not to think about how special that makes me feel. I know we’ve worked together for a while now, but he could’ve pushed on with denying it tonight. He chose to let me in. ‘How can that be?’

He glances at me with a raised eyebrow, like it’s a question I should already know the answer to. ‘Because I don’t want anyone knowing my weaknesses, obviously.’

‘It’s not a weakness, is it? It’s a… difference.’

‘People take advantage of differences. People use them against you. I was a bullied kid – I refuse to be a bullied adult as well.’

‘But people must know. People you work with. Friends. I figured it out in the few weeks we’ve known each other.’

‘Yeah, but this situation is unusual. I don’t usually work so closely with someone for so many weeks.

I’m usually alone in my office. I can cover it in face-to-face meetings and there’s almost nothing that can’t be achieved through emails at best, or video calls at worst. I can get away with delegating other staff to take phone calls for me.

Trust me, no one knows. I wouldn’t still be working there if they did. ’

‘Yeah, but—’

He checks his phone again before interrupting me. ‘Look, I appreciate that you care, but we’re not far from the house for the teddy bear, and it’s strange to talk about it. I’m not sure I’ve adjusted to sharing this yet, so can we just…’

He doesn’t finish the sentence but I understand what he means. ‘Leave it for now?’ I suggest, putting a strong emphasis on the ‘for now’ part.

He looks over and gives me that wide, unguarded smile again. ‘You’re consistently tenacious, I’ll give you that.’

I take that as a compliment and give him an expectant look until he laughs. ‘Fine. For now.’