Camilla tucked a clipboard under her arm. ‘It is.’ She lowered her voice. ‘But it would be so much better with you and . . .’ Olivia felt her heart do a back-flip – and not a happy one. Not the J-word, not the J-word. Camilla opened her mouth and then closed it. ‘Um, yeah . . .’ Camilla cleared her throat, ‘with you in it.’
Olivia quickly fixed a big smile on her face. As if on cue, the cashier handed over four cones. Brendan took two, Olivia the other two. As she reached for them, she smiled at Camilla. ‘I hope the rest of the filming goes well,’ said Olivia, refusing to let her smile slip. ‘Sorry I can’t be here for it.’ I’m fine, she repeated. Totally fine.
If I keep telling myself that, perhaps one day I’ll believe it.
Ivy just did not get Chinese orchestral music. The low-pitched strings and relentless drums were anything but relaxing. Unfortunately that was what Olivia’s adoptive dad, Mr Abbott, insisted on listening to as he drove Olivia and Ivy to the airport before their long flight to Transylvania.
Mr Abbott hummed along with the CD. ‘It’s very Zen, don’t you think?’
More like very annoying, thought Ivy.
Horatio, her grandparents’ hulking butler, was squished between the girls in the back seat, his knees pulled up to his chest. His sleek black tuxedo jacket was stretched tight across his back and his suit trousers were hiked high above his ankles, revealing bright-red socks. Ivy’s grandparents had been summoned back to Transylvania to help prepare for the wedding, but they’d left Horatio behind to help the girls pack. ‘You really ought to have let one of us sit in the middle,’ said Olivia, her knees squashed against the door.
Horatio peered down his nose. ‘I would not hear of it, Miss Olivia. I am here, as always, to serve.’ Ivy snorted. Right now, Horatio was only serving to block the air conditioning!
Charles Vega, the twins’ bio-dad, was sitting up front next to Mr Abbott. ‘It’s very kind of you to drive us to the airport,’ he said. ‘We won’t forget this.’
Horatio shifted his weight in the back seat, hands fidgeting. He had repeatedly asked Olivia’s dad if he could drive, but Mr Abbott wouldn’t hear a word of it. Horatio hated anyone else being the chauffeur.
He hated anyone else doing any work.
‘Don’t be silly,’ said Mr Abbott, tapping the wheel in time to the drumbeats. ‘You all are extended family. And you know what they say: the strength of a nation derives from the integrity of the home.’ In the reflection of the rear-view mirror Ivy saw Mr Abbott’s eyebrows lift. ‘Can anyone name that quote?’
The twins looked at each other blankly.
‘Confucius,’ said Charles and Horatio in unison.
Mr Abbott nodded. ‘Impressive.’
Great. The next thing Ivy knew, her dad would be practising yoga on the front lawn too. She leaned forwards, trying to get Olivia’s attention – someone who could share her pain – but Olivia’s chin rested on her fist as she stared intently out of the window. Ivy chewed her lip. It wasn’t like Olivia to bottle things up. Dark and stormy is usually more my style. The twins were becoming more and more like each other and Ivy wasn’t sure that was entirely a good thing. Olivia was supposed to be the perky one – the Yin to Ivy’s Yang.
Ivy’s phone pinged from inside her black studded bag – a text! She plunged her hands inside, digging through the mess of lipstick, movie stubs, and spare tubes of Pale Beauty, hoping it was a message from Brendan. She pulled the phone out and thumbed the touch screen.
Hope you have a safe flight! V-Love, Sophia.
Ivy’s heart sank. Not that it wasn’t a nice text; it just wasn’t the one she wanted. She clicked out of the message without responding and looked at her phone’s wallpaper screen – a picture of her and Brendan making silly faces. Brendan had his cheeks puffed out and he was scratching his head like a chimpanzee, and she had sucked her cheeks into a ridiculous fish-face. We look so happy. She stroked the brooch that she was wearing on her top. I hope we’re still that happy when I get back.
Ivy shoved the phone back into her bag, trying not to think about how fine he had seemed at the Meat and Greet. How unconcerned about the time they would be spending apart. Ivy knew Brendan well enough to understand that it was probably just his way of coping, but she couldn’t help feeling a little hurt. Of course, she had wanted him to be OK with her trip to Transylvania – but there was such a thing as being too OK with being separated from your girlfriend for a week or two. Maybe longer.
As the wheels of the car edged up to the kerb at the airport, Ivy frowned to herself. Brendan Daniels was not supposed to behave like a dumb guy from a stupid teen bunny show.
Ivy’s boyfriend was supposed to be different.
Charles shut the boot of Mr Abbott’s car. He surveyed the luggage piled on the pavement as a plane roared overhead. ‘I think that’s everything.’
‘Literally,’ Ivy muttered, her eyebrows raised. Leave it to Olivia to pack our entire wardrobes!
Olivia smiled sheepishly. ‘Hey, a girl’s got to have options.’
Police officers were directing traffic and luggage wheels slid across the pavement with regular thuds. The terminal was a hub of activity.
Mr Abbott extended his hand to Horatio, who looked at it, blinking. Ivy stifled a giggle. Horatio’s giant hand daintily gripped Mr Abbott’s fingers and he gave them a gentle shake. Poor Horatio really did not know how to handle being treated like an equal.
‘Well then,’ Mr Abbott said. ‘I wouldn’t want you all to miss your flight.’
Olivia reached up to give her adoptive dad a long hug. ‘I’ll miss you. Take care of Mom, OK?’
Mr Abbott kissed her on top of the head. ‘Would you like me to come in with you?’ he asked.
Olivia shook her head. ‘That’s OK. Horatio can help us.’ Ivy thought she saw Horatio perk up with that comment. The Lazar family butler took the phrase ‘aim to please’ to a whole new level!
‘Right, well . . . In that case, I might just make my tai chi class.’ He started to smile, then threw his arms wide. ‘Oh, who am I kidding? Who cares about tai chi? Come here and give me a hug!’ He swooped the twins up in his arms, crushing them tight to his chest. Eventually, he pulled away, his face red. ‘I know I shouldn’t get emotional. It’s only for a week.’