‘A toast!’ Charles called. ‘To everybody at this museum!’
Carla Daniels’s lips wobbled. She hadn’t looked away from her brother for an instant. ‘Everybody?’ she whispered. ‘Marc?’
Brendan’s dad looked at her and shook his head wordlessly.
Oh, no! Panic almost choked Ivy. It didn’t work?
Then Brendan’s dad lunged forwards to wrap his sister in an enormous hug. He looked as if he might never let her go.
Ivy felt her eyes well up even as Brendan grabbed her hand and squeezed it hard. Across the room, she could see Maya gazing, spellbound, at the sight. Ivy might be forcing back her own happy tears, but Maya wasn’t even trying – her tears slipped freely down her face as her lips curved into a joyous grin.
Ivy tucked her head into her boyfriend’s shoulder and sighed happily as she watched the reunion before her.
No wonder Olivia enjoys meddling so much!
The sky outside the long museum windows was already darkening by the time the exhibit finally started to wind down. As Olivia watched, a long line of patrons filed past Charles, taking turns just to shake his hand. He really is the king of the hour, she thought affectionately, as their praises filled the air.
‘What a marvellous exhibition that was!’
‘There’s been nothing like it here before.’
‘Amazing!’
‘Come on,’ Olivia whispered to Camilla, as she grabbed her friend’s hand to pull her through the crowd.
But Lillian beat them to her bio-dad. ‘Congratulations, Charles,’ she said, giving him a warm embrace. ‘This really is even more impressive than I’d expected.’
‘Thank you, darling.’ Charles smiled at her. ‘I just wish I could figure out exactly what to do with the South Wing next.’
Aha! Olivia cleared her throat, stepping forwards while Camilla hung behind. ‘Dad, didn’t you mention before that you didn’t think there should be any more space devoted to artefacts? I’m sure you said’ – in one of your loooong monologues earlier this week! – ‘that the existing wings gave more than enough room for exhibitions already.’
‘Well, yes.’ Charles sighed. ‘But what else can be done in a museum?’
‘Well . . .’ Olivia straightened her shoulders, running through the speech she had been practising – this was no time for improv! ‘Isn’t the South Wing really just a big empty space right now?’ She gave him a meaningful look. ‘It doesn’t look like a museum . . . so, therefore, can it really be called a museum?’
Her adoptive dad would surely have been proud of her making such a vague – but very important-sounding – statement!
Charles frowned. ‘I suppose you have a point,’ he said. ‘But, my dear daughter, I’m a bit of a traditionalist. I hardly think it would be appropriate to turn a former museum wing into a diner, or whatever it is that you might be suggesting.’
Olivia laughed as she took her bio-dad’s arm. ‘That’s not what I was thinking at all. Just tell me . . .’ She narrowed her eyes as she launched into the question she’d prepared. ‘What is a museum for? The first thing that comes into your mind.’
But she couldn’t help the way her hand tightened on his arm with nerves as she waited for his answer. Oh, please let me know my bio-dad – and my stepmom – well enough to be right about this!
Charles raised his eyebrows. ‘The first thing that comes into my mind . . . art!’
Yes!
Olivia did silent cheers as he continued: ‘A museum is a house of art – the finest art of yesterday.’
‘Mm-hmm.’ With an effort, Olivia kept her voice calm. ‘But is that all?’
Lillian jumped in, just as Olivia had hoped she would. ‘A museum is a record of art – all kinds of art, from all different points in time.’ She smiled fondly at her husband. ‘Charles said it himself, in his inspiring speech – our history shapes our tomorrow.’
‘Exactly!’ Olivia couldn’t help bouncing on her toes, despite her sparkly kitten heels. ‘So . . . is there any reason the South Wing of this museum can’t be a house of tomorrow’s art?’
‘Hmm.’ Charles narrowed his eyes as he looked down at her, amusement and curiosity mingling in his expression. ‘How exactly do you plan to pull that off? Without going for a joyride in a time machine, that is.’
Olivia looked to Lillian. ‘What do you think?’
‘Well, what if . . .’ Lillian’s face lit up with gathering excitement. ‘Oh, yes! Charles, what if you converted the South Wing into a Creative Space for local artists? A workshop where talented, young, local people could be creative in a relaxed environment?’
Please, please, please say yes! Olivia urged her father silently.
For a long moment, Charles was silent, his face furrowed in thought. Then a smile spread across his face. ‘What an absolutely perfect idea. But we would need someone to run it. Who would be good at that? Hmm . . .’
‘Good question,’ Olivia said brightly, using every bit of her dramatic training to keep her expression blank as Lillian gave a visible twitch of frustration. ‘Who could possibly run that workshop?’
‘Well . . .’ Charles rubbed his jaw thoughtfully, apparently thinking out loud. ‘Who do we know who’s smart, talented, creative and responsible . . . not to mention good with young people? Now, that’s a real puzzler.’
Oh, come on. Olivia stared at him. In the corner of her eye, she could see her stepmom’s face turning utterly expressionless. Lillian was clearly having to work hard to hide her own feelings right now, but she shouldn’t have had to.