The robot stepped up to the cashier, his words coming out short and choppy. ‘Ex-cuse me,’ said robo-boy, trying to sound electronic. ‘But may I have some oil to mend my wound-ed heart valve?’ Robo-boy pressed a rigid hand to his chest.
The cashier looked around the robot to Brendan and Olivia. She screwed up her face and twirled one finger at the side of her head. ‘Loopy!’
Olivia pretended she hadn’t heard, and instead eyed the menu above the cashier’s head and the vamp-tastic names of the ice creams: Count Cherry Chocula; Batty Blackberry; Crypt’s Coconut. She elbowed Brendan as they waited for their turn to be served. ‘Are you OK with Ivy going away?’ she asked. ‘You can be honest with me, you know.’
Brendan rubbed his ribs. ‘Ouch! Sure, I’m OK. Whatever’s good for Ivy is good for me.’
Olivia rolled her eyes. Brendan was a vampire. He probably hadn’t even felt her jab. ‘If you’re trying to make a big show of being “cool” with this trip, you don’t have to, you know. It’s OK to be a bit sad!’
Brendan stared at his black shoelaces. ‘Let’s just take it one step at a time.’
‘Brendan Daniels, don’t give me the brave face.’
Brendan dug the toe of one trainer into the ground. ‘I’m just trying to do what’s best.’
Olivia stepped in front of Brendan, turning her back to the ice-cream counter and facing towards robo-boy, who was still busy fumbling with his lines. ‘Give it more passion !’ she heard Camilla tell him. ‘Really commit to the part.’
‘Brendan, I may be small – and a bunny – but if this ever gets too much for you, I want you to know you can confide in me. You can confide in Ivy! She cares a lot for you and would only want you to be honest about how you’re feeling.’
Brendan took a step back. ‘Thanks, Olivia.’ He swept his hand through his hair, suddenly looking a little worried. ‘But please don’t say anything to Ivy, OK?’
Olivia’s eyes flitted quickly in her sister’s direction. Ivy was staring at the pair of them with her head cocked. She was clearly getting the sense that something was up.
Olivia smiled sweetly, as if to say, Everything’s fine. Then she turned back to Brendan. ‘I promise. We’ll look out for each other whilst she’s away.’ She held out her pinky.
Brendan stared. ‘I’m not pinky swearing, Olivia. I’m a dude!’
Olivia lifted her eyebrows and jutted her chin, waiting.
‘Fine,’ said Brendan, letting his head hang in defeat. He locked pinkies with her and shook. ‘I promise too. Happy?’
‘Very.’ Olivia stepped up to the front of the line and rested her hand on the cool metal of the Meat and Greet counter, where a pale goth girl with a black apron was waiting with a pen and pad. ‘Two Dark Chocolate Delights and two Scrumptious Strawberry ice-cream cones, please.’
The girl smiled through dark-red lips and Olivia could just make out where the cashier’s dazzling white fangs had been filed. ‘Four cones, coming right up!’
While they waited, Olivia waved to Camilla, who was letting her actors ‘take five’. ‘It looks like the shoot’s going well,’ Olivia said, as her friend approached.
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.