Ivy drifted off, wondering if there might be some way …
As Ivy woke on Saturday morning, the day of the show, she was struck by a bolt of inspiration. She sat up so fast the covers tangled round her legs. There it was, unfolding before her: a way to make Trip’s dream come true. In a manner of speaking, at least.
To make it happen, though, she had some work to do. She jumped in the shower and threw on the first outfit she could find. Then she forced herself to sit at the desk and read through the email she had drafted last night. Was she really going to do this?Yes, she decided. She was. She was going to be brave.
Taking a deep breath, she pressedsend.
She rushed to the front door, snatching a piece of toast from Liv’s plate on her way past the kitchen.
‘I’ll see you at the show, love!’ her mum called, and Ivy mumbled a reply through a mouthful of toast. There was no time to waste – she had a plan for today, and it started at the shop.
After parking up, Ivy let herself into the shop, grabbed the box of paper fish and headed into the back room to look for her satchel of paints. She turned to go, then paused.
She could hear something. Voices. Something about the tone made her edge to the bottom of the stairs and listen.
‘You can’t keep putting this off, Trip.’ It was Brooke. Underneath her even tones, Ivy definitely caught a note of worry. ‘The buyer’s ready. We might not get another opportunity like this. The house is just sitting there, gradually falling apart, I might add. One day that money could help you do something great.’
‘But why rush it?’ came Trip’s voice. His voice sounded so strained and quiet, Ivy almost didn’t recognise it as his. ‘I don’t see why we need to make a decisionnow. That place meant so much to Gran. To us—’
‘Do you think I don’t know that?’ Brooke snapped, her patience clearly fraying. ‘We had an amazing childhood there. But now we need to move on.’
‘I’m just – not ready.’ There was a crack in Trip’s voice that caught at Ivy’s heart. ‘It’s only been a few months. Can’t we wait till next year?’
There was a pause, then Brooke spoke again, her voice gentle now. ‘No. What would be the point? We’ve put this off for long enough. I need you to be serious, Trip. We have to do this. You have to let it go or else I don’t think you’ll ever make a decision about the future. Gran wouldn’t want you to put your life on hold. There’s so much you could be doing. Go to college. Have adventures.That’swhat she would have wanted and you know it.’
A heavy silence followed.
‘It’s time, Trip,’ Brooke added softly. ‘It’s time to let her go.’
Ivy belatedly realised she was eavesdropping on a highly personal conversation, holding her breath so as not to miss a single word. She took a step back, accidentally knocking a mug off a shelf as she did so.A Tale of Two Kitties. It clattered loudly to the floor and she ducked into the kitchen.
She heard the sudden creak of the stairs, a door shutting and then nothing. When Ivy emerged a few minutes later, clutching the pieces of broken mug, there was silence.
Having swept up and thrown away the broken mug, Ivy headed out of the shop into the street, colliding with Josie in the door.
‘Ivy, goodness – where’s the fire?’ said Josie, laughing.
‘I need the morning off,’ Ivy said, without preamble. ‘Please, Josie, it’s something I have to do for Trip.’ She bit her lip. ‘Maybe it’s silly, but all the same I want to—’
‘Enough,’ said Josie, holding up her hand. ‘I can see in your eyes it’s important. Take all the time you need, darling. I’ll see you when I see you.’
‘Thanks,’ said Ivy, whisking out of the door. ‘I’ll be at the town hall. But don’t tell Trip!’
Even though the show was hours away, the hall was already in a frenzy. Ivy grabbed a handful of kids to help guard the door of one of the back rooms, then set herself up to work, with chairs piled against the door for security, until she was happy with her surprise. Now she just had to get it out and hidden safely without Trip seeing.
Ivy smuggled her secret project into the prop room and madesure everything was ready. She emerged, delighted that she’d managed to keep it hidden – only to discover that Trip wasn’t even there to hide it from.
In fact, Ivy couldn’t see him anywhere.
She was immediately put to work by Mei, headpiece secured and in her element. There were children to shepherd, mermaid tails to arrange, lines to run, anxious adults to soothe. Mr Hargreaves was a blur of tweed and fluffy white hair. Erin was a honey-blonde tornado of activity, flashing her bright smile left and right while being devastatingly efficient. Callum was running through his sound and lighting cues with Mei. It felt like the whole of Fox Bay had decided to muck in and everyone knew what part they had to play. Simi bustled past with boxes and crates, Josie added extra chairs to the rows, Fin carried in box after box of tablecloths, paper cups and napkins for the after-party.
The only person whowasn’trushing around organising and sorting was Trip. He was still nowhere to be seen.
Ivy texted him, trying to sound breezy and unconcerned. She texted again, half an hour later. Then, ditching the breeziness, she called him. The messages went unanswered and the calls went to voicemail. Every time Ivy asked about him, she was met with a shrug.
‘I’m sure he was just here,’ Mei said, waving vaguely. She was up a ladder, grappling with the topmost corner of the massive map of Cornwall Ivy had painted. ‘But it’s okay, he’ll turn up. And we have strict instructions.’
‘Yeah, he must be out back,’ Erin said, stabbing a straw into a carton of juice and handing it to a Year 4 who was encased in a giant cardboard Stargazy Pie. ‘He’salwayshere.’
