Arabella the Glamazon murmured her agreement.
Ivy opened her mouth to speak, but Petra beat her to it. ‘Sorry, Ivana. Let me get this straight. You think Tessa is rude? Not so long ago she would have been waiting on the people in this room and now she’s supposed to be sitting at the head of the table. Of course she’s going to be nervous. And people like you judging her upbringing isn’t going to help. Give her a break.’ Petra leaned back in her chair, folding her arms.
Ivy caught Petra’s eye and smiled. At least someone in this social circle was a little less uptight.
Chapter Five
Is it morning already?
Shards of light shot through the blinds like laser beams on to Olivia’s face. She buried her head in the crook of her arm, still sleepy. Maybe she wasn’t cut out to be a jet-setter. These changes in time zone were killing her!
Just as she was about to roll out of bed, Olivia stopped herself, feet dangling in mid air. In her exhausted state she had completely forgotten that she was on the top bunk of the custom-made bunk bed-and-coffin in their Transylvania bed chamber. She was so not in Franklin Grove any more.
This time, more carefully, Olivia slid her toes to where she could rest them on Ivy’s closed coffin lid and stepped softly down. Their grandparents had imported a top-of-the-line Interna-3 coffin just like Ivy used at home. They really did want the girls to feel comfortable in Transylvania.
Olivia rapped her knuckles on Ivy’s vampy version of a bed. ‘Hello? Anybody home?’ She cracked open the lid, but there was no Ivy. Was her sister up and about already? That was strange; Ivy loathed mornings. She always claimed to be allergic to ‘Before 9 a.m.’.
Olivia pulled on a denim skirt and a pale-pink V-neck. With any luck, Horatio would have a giant stack of pancakes ready and waiting. But just as her mouth was starting to water at the thought of melted butter and rich maple syrup, Olivia noticed the flickering yellow light of the desktop computer.
Ivy had left it in sleep mode.
She chewed her lip. It would be so easy to log on to the internet and check her emails. It would only take two minutes, tops. What could it hurt? Perhaps Jackson had sent her a message? I know we promised not to get in touch but . . . She couldn’t ignore the niggling ache in her heart whenever she imagined not speaking to him again. Who knew that love and romance would turn out to be so painful? Perhaps he’d been struggling too. After all, he found time to blog – wouldn’t he even be tempted to send her a message whilst he was on the computer? Or would it just make her all the more unhappy to find her inbox empty?
That settled it. She shoved a tube of lipgloss in her pocket and marched to the door. It was time to quit obsessing. I have a life, you know! But at the doorway she stopped short, a worm of curiosity wiggling into her brain. OK, maybe for just a couple of minutes . . . max.
Olivia sat down and tapped the keyboard, lighting up the screen. She held her breath as she logged on to her email. Her inbox popped up. There was an email from Camilla, one from Sophia and even one from her classmate Jenny, asking if she had any decorating tips for her cousin’s birthday party.
But there was nothing from Jackson.
She checked her junk mail – just in case. Still nothing. Her heart slid all the way down to her pink-varnished toes.
Olivia drummed her fingertips on the desk. No biggie. He had been practically living on movie sets. What could she expect? Olivia knew what making films was like – she knew it was crazily busy and that Jackson was probably not getting a moment to himself. It’s not like I need him to check in every ten seconds, right?
Olivia typed the web address to Jackson’s Journal, the online blog he kept as a continuation of his bestselling book from earlier that year. He had probably only had time to jot a couple of lines of updates: Such-and-such city is great! The movie’s good! I’m too exhausted to move!
The page loaded and, instead, Olivia was greeted with high-res photos of European landmarks. And not just any landmarks – romantic landmarks. There he was at the Eiffel Tower; and here he was lounging in the grass in front of the Leaning Tower of Pisa. He must have been taking a trip around Europe. Below each picture, he’d written long passages of text describing the sights and his thoughts about them.
Bonjour from the Tour d’Eiffel! Here I am in the City of Light and Love and may I just say: I’m totally digging it! Nicknamed the ‘Iron Lady’, the Eiffel Tower is even cooler up close than it is in pictures . . .
Olivia’s jaw dropped. These blog posts had obviously taken a long time to put together – but he couldn’t come up with a few minutes to write her one measly email! She felt her chest throb.
She shook herself. Where were these feelings coming from? And why was it that she almost didn’t want him to have a good time? She knew it was silly, but she’d somehow feel better if she knew he was missing her at least a little. But noooo . . . She did a mental eye-roll. He’s off being Mr Big Movie Star and probably can’t even remember if I spell my last name with one ‘b’ or two.
She punched the power button and the screen went black. ‘I can be busy as well, Jackson,’ Olivia said as the tears began to well up in her eyes and clog her throat. She shoved back from the desk and marched to the door, pulling it open and colliding with Charles, who was passing on the landing. She stumbled backwards, starting to fall, but Charles snatched out a hand with vampire quickness to stop her.
‘That was a close one,’ he said, patting her shoulder.
‘It was a little painful.’ Olivia rubbed her forehead whilst trying to smile. Bumping into a vampire was like walking into a brick wall.