Olivia bit back a sigh as her dad continued. It was going to be a real challenge to get Charles’s mind off the wedding and on to the blogger. She glanced at Ivy, trying to see if her twin was thinking the same thing, but Ivy’s dark hair fell around her eyes.
It had taken a long time to get the house sparkling again after the party, but in the process of hard physical cleaning, Olivia had finally worked off most of her frustration. Yes, she still wished Ivy had handled the situation at the baking party differently, but . . . It wasn’t all Ivy’s fault. She could see that now. She really wanted to make up with her twin.
‘Is everything all right?’ Their dad’s voice punctured the silence. Even he had finally picked up on the tension in the room. He looked between them, frowning. Lillian watched them both carefully, her eyes darting from Olivia’s face to Ivy’s. Olivia felt herself starting to blush. ‘I know there are a lot of changes coming up for all of us, but I promise I’ll still be your dad after the wedding. You don’t have to worry about that.’
‘It’s OK,’ Olivia said quietly. ‘That’s not it.’
‘No, it isn’t, is it?’ Lillian asked.
Ivy shrugged silently.
Charles looked at his fiancée, then back at the girls. ‘Oh, I get it. Would it help if you two were more involved in the wedding planning? Maybe –’ his face lit up – ‘you girls could write the names on the name plates for the table plans! That would make you feel better, wouldn’t it?’
‘Oh, Charles.’ Lillian put one hand on his arm, shaking her head. ‘Can’t you see that the wedding is the last thing on the girls’ minds?’
‘What do you mean?’ Charles blinked.
‘How about, instead, we think about something more . . . hey! Check that out!’ Leaning forwards, Lillian pointed out the window in an obvious attempt at distraction. ‘Look at the clothes on that couple! How ridiculous!’
Olivia looked in the direction Lillian was pointing – and nearly choked as she saw the outrageously dressed elderly couple walking slowly up the hill towards Ivy’s house. ‘What are they wearing?’ They were the image of an over-the-top elderly couple on vacation – except that Franklin Grove hardly ever had appropriate weather for checked shorts, flowered shirts and sandals. One of them was wearing the most enormous sunglasses Olivia had ever seen. What on earth were they doing in Franklin Grove?
‘Are they for real?’ Ivy spluttered. ‘Or do you think they got lost? Maybe they think they’re still somewhere in Florida.’
Olivia laughed, loving that even Ivy couldn’t keep up an Ice Queen act in the face of such a hilarious vision!
‘It’s almost as if they’re trying to draw attention to themselves,’ Lillian murmured.
Then Olivia stopped laughing as the couple turned up the path to Ivy’s house, followed by another strangely dressed man.
‘Wait a minute,’ Ivy said, stiffening beside her. ‘Isn’t that . . .’
‘Horatio!’ Olivia breathed. She’d recognise the man’s height and formal stance anywhere. It was the Lazar family’s butler, which meant . . .
Charles actually rubbed his eyes once, then twice, as if to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. ‘Are those my parents?’
Olivia couldn’t believe it, but he was right. The ludicrously dressed old couple were her grandparents, the Count and Countess Lazar!
The whole family rushed to let them in.
‘Darlings!’ The Countess opened her arms to her granddaughters as she stepped inside, somehow managing to look regal even in checked shorts. Olivia and Ivy both wrapped their arms round her and, for the first time in hours, their gazes met. It was only a brief, accidental glance, but Olivia felt just as warmed by her sister’s softened expression as by her grandmother’s arms.
‘It’s so good to see you,’ the Countess said as she kissed Olivia’s cheek.
‘You too,’ Olivia said. ‘But what are you doing here?’
‘And why are you wearing bunny clothes ?’ Ivy asked. From the look on her face, Olivia knew her twin had only barely managed to restrain herself from adding: And such ridiculous ones ?
The Countess’s bright-pink-and-orange flowered shirt was even more garish at close quarters. Olivia’s eyes hurt just from looking at it. Where are my diamante sunglasses ? !
‘You must be here for the engagement party,’ Charles exclaimed, as Horatio shut the door behind them. ‘I’m afraid you are a bit early, but –’
Lillian shushed him. ‘Why don’t we wait for your parents to explain?’
‘Of course we will explain,’ the Countess said grandly. ‘But first, I must change. These cheap polyesters make my skin itch!’
Then why are you wearing them ? Olivia wondered. But she bit her tongue as her grandmother started to collect her luggage and head towards the stairs.
‘No, no, no!’ an outraged voice interrupted. Horatio swished past Olivia and in one smooth movement had collected the luggage from the Countess and tucked her cases under each arm. He lowered his gaze to the floor. ‘So sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude, but this is my job.’ He started to walk up the stairs, turning awkwardly to avoid bumping the leather-bound luggage against the banisters. The Countess watched him, shaking her head indulgently.
‘You know,’ she whispered to Olivia. ‘I haven’t been allowed to carry a thing upstairs in over forty years.’ Then she laughed quietly. ‘But I do like to tease him and pretend I’m going to sometimes!’
Olivia was shocked. Had the Countess just . . . cracked a joke? Before she could dare to ask, her grandmother followed Horatio upstairs.
When she finally came back down, wearing her usual satin and cashmere, the entire family gathered in the living room, with the trays of wedding treats set in the centre of the room. Horatio circulated with a jug of iced tea. How did he make that already? Wasn’t he helping the Countess unpack ? Olivia wondered. The Countess sat in the place of honour in Charles’s favourite chair. The Count was settled on the sofa, delicately nibbling a king prawn.
Charles and Lillian sat together. ‘If you aren’t here for the engagement party,’ Charles said to his parents, ‘what else could possibly have brought you?’
‘We were sent by the Queen,’ the Countess said, ‘to investigate your daughters’ message.’