Olivia loved seeing so much history floating past her . . . and better yet, she didn’t even have to wear a corset to enjoy it! Instead, she was wearing her favourite light pink, knee-length sundress. She had never appreciated loose-fitting contemporary clothing so much until she had spent a week dressing like a Victorian!
Smiling, Olivia took a deep breath just to prove that she could. Thank goodness I live in the twenty-first century, and not the nineteenth! Breathing comfortably is definitely underrated.
She couldn’t wait to switch to 1950s style, when they got back to the States for their next block of shooting. After corsets, poodle skirts sound like heaven!
Now she looked around, hearing the hum of voices behind her. Olivia had spent the first part of the cruise mingling with the rest of the cast, while her parents hung out with the other actors’ parents and guardians below deck. After half an hour, though, Jackson had asked Olivia if she wanted to walk with him along the deck, alone . . .
‘’Ave a butcher’s at that!’ he said now, pointing over her shoulder. ‘Can ya believe all this ’istree, right in front of us!’
Olivia sighed, even as she smiled politely. It was hard to be thrilled by the ’istree of anything!
She knew it was important for him to practise and stay in character. Better yet, she could see that it was paying off in his performance. Yesterday had been the best day of filming so far. Jackson had had to do a monologue twice, once in the posh voice and once in the Cockney, and even terrifying Ingrid, the Vocal Coach of Doom, had actually agreed that it was good.
It’s not that I don’t admire Jackson’s commitment, Olivia thought glumly. But it’s hard to feel romantic when he sounds like a stranger.
The sound of a throat being cleared behind her made her turn – and her momentary annoyance evaporated as she saw a waiter approaching with a platter of delicious-looking appetisers.
‘Oh good!’ Jackson stepped forward, smiling. ‘I’m Dean Martin!’
The waiter rolled his eyes. ‘No, you’re Hank Marvin,’ he said, in a real London accent.
‘Are you sure?’ Jackson frowned, looking suddenly less confident. ‘I really thought I was Dean Martin.’
The waiter shook his head. ‘No, you’re definitely Hank Marvin.’
Are you both crazy? Olivia wanted to scream. He’s Jackson Caulfield!
Then she bit back a groan as she realised what was going on. Why can’t anything just make sense?
Ever since she’d arrived in London, it had felt like everything was in a code she couldn’t read . . . from the language that everybody spoke to the feelings that Jackson might or might not have for her.
Still, she was pretty sure she could work out this particular puzzle. Hank Marvin rhymed with . . . starving! Jackson must have meant he was hungry. And she was, too!
The waiter offered the platter to her. ‘Miss?’
‘Thank you.’ I can do this! Olivia braced herself to make the attempt. ‘I’m so . . . Sally . . . Tungry?’
For a moment, the waiter stared at her blankly. Then he burst out laughing.
Sighing, Olivia took a still-steaming spring roll and watched as he walked away, chuckling so much he almost dropped his platter.
‘So, it’s not something you can just make up on the spot?’ she asked Jackson.
‘Well . . .’ He smiled sympathetically. ‘Maybe if –’
But before he could finish, the yacht lurched to a stop. The sudden movement threw Olivia forward . . . straight into Jackson’s arms.
Her spring roll fell to the deck as he caught her. His breath was warm against her hair. She thought she could feel his heartbeat racing – but that might have been her own.
Then the captain’s voice blared over the intercom:
‘Sorry about that, ladies and gentlemen. There’s a slight mechanical difficulty down here, but the crew are working on it now. We should be on the move again shortly. In the meantime, everyone, just get comfy and enjoy the view.’
Olivia couldn’t help it. She started laughing as Jackson helped her upright.
He didn’t let go of her hands even after she was standing safely on the deck. ‘What is it?’ He looked down at her, his eyebrows raised. ‘Why are you laughing?’
Olivia shook her head, smiling ruefully and wondering if there could possibly be a more perfect metaphor for their whole relationship than a stalled ship? Surrounded by a wonderful view but going nowhere . . .
‘Nothing,’ she said. ‘Never mind.’
‘Hey, hey, hey, Eternal Sunset cast and crew!’ Mr Harker’s voice suddenly boomed out of a megaphone, only ten feet behind Olivia.
She jumped, then pulled her hands free to clap them over her ears as she spun around. The vampire studio boss was grinning mischievously as he looked straight at her and Jackson.
‘Since this yacht of ours isn’t moving, we’re going to have to create our own movement. And you guys know what that means . . .’
Do we? Olivia stared warily at Jackson, who closed his eyes and groaned, ‘Oh no . . .’
Harker stepped back and gestured grandly at the big speakers set along the deck. A moment later, 1950s pop music blasted out from the speakers.
Silently, Olivia echoed Jackson’s groan.
Just what this awkward afternoon needs – dancing!
Argh. Ivy groaned silently as she tipped her head against the window beside her seat on the bus as it stopped at yet another red light. I’m on a bus going nowhere!
She was very eager to get to the Lincoln Vale Mall – and was seriously worried about what she might find when she got there. She had gone to Sophia’s house that afternoon to have a serious talk with her friend. Unfortunately, she’d been too late – and as soon as Sophia’s mom had told her where her friend had gone, Ivy had been filled with panic.
If Sophia actually wanted to go shopping, Ivy had reasoned, she would have gone to the Franklin Grove Mall.
Was she hoping to run into Finn the skater-boy? Wasn’t that what some people called ‘stalking’?
Ivy had to stop her before she went too far.
Finally, the bus lurched back into movement.
When it pulled up in front of the Lincoln Grove Mall, Ivy jumped off with a moan of impatience. She hurtled through the front doors with only one goal. Mission: Rescue Sophia – From Herself !
But as she hurried down the long galleries of the mall, her eyes widened. As malls went, it was actually the coolest one she’d ever seen. One side was dominated by goth and alternative clothing outlets, the other with accessories stores. Pall Bearers CDs filled the display cases of the music stores. And right up there, in front of her . . .