From the back of the room, Charlotte shot Olivia the thumbs up and the recording light blinked green. Into what weird universe had Olivia fallen that meant she was actually happy that Charlotte Brown had decided to attend another committee meeting after all? At least the camera would keep the Terrible Trio in check.
Fortunately for Olivia, that wasn’t her only backup. Ivy had come along. Operation Delete Footage was on and Ivy was helping Charlotte in the hopes that she might have an opportunity to delete the vampy-looking footage.
‘First,’ Olivia began, ‘I wanted to thank the committee for taking care of things while I was away and for the lovely suggestion of a pink theme.’ Olivia watched as Lucrezia gave a smug flip of her hair. But Olivia wasn’t done. ‘And it was a lovely suggestion.’ This time she emphasised the last word.
Olivia retrieved a folded sheet of paper from her straw tote. ‘This,’ she fluttered the page so that everyone could see, ‘is a copy of the committee contract that the principal had me sign when I took on this role,’ Olivia said, silently thanking Jackson’s manager, Amy, for always encouraging her to read the fine print. ‘Here, in clause 2 of option 3, point 4 on the appendix for page 10 –’ Olivia cleared her throat and began to read – ‘“The committee organiser shall take ultimate responsibility for all details of the dance, further to final approval by the principal.”’ She made a crisp fold in the paper and put it away.
Veronica twisted a string of chewed gum around her index finger. ‘Translation?’
‘I’ve already run an idea by the principal and it’s been approved. This year’s theme will be a barn dance and there will be absolutely no pink – and no black – whatsoever. Got it?’
The room erupted into howls of disappointment.
‘But I already bought a pink skirt!’
‘Does this mean I can’t wear my fuchsia sundress?’
‘Pink compliments my skin tone!’
Olivia shifted her weight on her feet. She hadn’t expected her other classmates to be upset. She looked out into the small crowd. Even Jenny was shaking her head. Olivia had come this far and she wasn’t turning back. Everyone needed to feel included and that meant putting a stop to anything and everything that could make people uncomfortable. Right?
Doing her best Ivy impersonation, Olivia stared down Lucrezia, Melinda and Veronica. ‘Listen, I’ve made the decision – barn dance it is.’ Before they could say anything, Olivia jerked her head in the direction of Charlotte’s camera, daring them to argue. Thankfully, none of them did. Olivia’s heart pounded. She’d done it. She had stood up for what she believed in. If she hadn’t been wearing a skirt, she’d have performed a perfect straddle jump! ‘OK, then,’ she said, ‘I want you all to go home and research ideas for food, music and decorations to fit the barn-dance theme, so that we can finalise details tomorrow. So, unless anyone has questions, I guess that’s it for the day.’
The committee got to their feet. ‘Dictator,’ Olivia heard one girl mumble over her shoulder.
‘Yeah, who does she think she is?’ asked another.
Olivia’s chin drooped. She had thought she was doing the right thing. ‘Too much?’ she asked, going over to Charlotte.
Charlotte removed the camera from its perch on her shoulder. ‘Nah. Those girls needed putting in their places.’ She raised her eyebrows and scanned Olivia from head to toe, as if seeing her for the first time. ‘Seems like those three could actually learn a thing or two from you.’
From me? Do I really want to be a role model for bullies like that?
Thankfully, Olivia didn’t have too much time to answer that big question because Ivy wandered over, her combat boots sticking out amongst the committee girls’ dainty shoes like two black seeds in a giant pink watermelon.
‘So?’ Olivia probed her sister. ‘Did Mission Deletion work?’
‘Yeah, I took care of it when you were talking to Charlotte.’
This time Olivia really did jump up and down. ‘Congratulations! Your secret’s safe!’ This was the best news she’d heard all day.
Ivy shrugged. ‘For now.’ She started to walk away.
‘What is wrong with people today?’ Olivia muttered, before following her twin out of the school.
Ivy jolted to a stop in the open doorway of her house on Undertaker Hill. No way. It looked as if a closet had exploded. Suitcases lay open with clothes spewing out on to the floor. Ivy even spotted one of her grandmother’s fancy dresses hanging from a lampshade. The house was in total chaos. Olivia and Ivy stood in the doorway, bewildered.
‘Maybe our dad shouldn’t be skimping on a maid,’ Olivia muttered into Ivy’s ear. Maybe you’re right, thought Ivy.
‘Bombs away!’ The girls looked up to see the Count tossing a velvet jacket over the top railing, where it landed in a lumpy pile with a number of other garments.
‘What is going on?’ Ivy demanded.
Horatio scrambled to fold the Count’s clothing, but he couldn’t keep up with the speed at which Ivy’s grandfather was tossing articles down.
The Countess rushed in and stuffed a bag of toiletries into Horatio’s stiff arms. Horatio offered the girls an awkward smile. ‘The Countess can never have too many outfits,’ he said, and then got back to work trying to wrestle the Count’s clothes into a piece of leather luggage.
‘Well, hello!’ the Count shouted from the second floor, leaning over the railing. ‘Didn’t see you all there!’
Ivy snapped her neck back. ‘No offence, but have you gone mad?’
The Countess scurried in with another bundle. ‘Not mad; glad!’ cried Ivy’s grandmother. ‘We have to get back to Transylvania at once!’
With surprising speed, the Count tramped down the stairs and began helping Horatio stuff the suitcase. ‘Yes, without a single moment of delay,’ he declared.
Ivy and Olivia’s heads pinged back and forth between their grandparents.
‘There’s been an announcement. Prince Alex and Tessa have revealed their engagement.’ The Countess wiggled the fingers of her left hand.
‘Oh my goodness,’ Olivia gushed. ‘They’re getting married?’
‘Yes! And the Queen has asked specifically for me to help with the planning!’ She glanced around at the floor. ‘Now, where is my other shoe?’ The Countess was clutching one lace-up boot in her slender hands.