Chapter Twenty-Three
The applause and the bows went on for ever.
The crowd, packed on to the creaky folding chairs, stamped and cheered like they were at Glastonbury instead of Fox Bay town hall.
Liv took a fifth bow and then a sixth. Bethie gave a sword flourish that nearly took out a light and even the smallest of the smugglers got their turn in the spotlight.
Mr Hargreaves ran on to the stage and flapped his hands for silence.
‘Congratulations, everyone!’ he cried. ‘Now, while the actors were all wonderful, I think we are missing some unsung heroes who deserve their own applause. Let’s hear it for the backstage production team!
Trip, Ivy, Erin, Mei, Callum – get up here! ’
‘Oh no,’ said Ivy in horror. ‘This is the whole point of being backstage. No one pays attention to you.’ She looked around wildly for an escape, but—
‘There’s Ivy!’ cried Liv, darting over to her, and before Ivy could flee, she found herself dragged physically by small sweaty hands on to the stage.
But as she faced the rows of people with delighted faces, most of whom she had known all her life, Trip’s hand stayed in hers, warm and sure.
The applause swelled as they took their bows.
Ivy’s face was burning, but Trip took it in his stride, waving and grinning like he genuinely loved every absurd second of this. He high-fived Merlin and the troupe of sardines. In the audience, Ivy could see Josie blowing effusive kisses, her mum whistling and Raye beaming.
As soon as she could, Ivy tugged Trip down off the stage. ‘Phew,’ she said. ‘That was more intense than I—’
A slight figure barrelled into Ivy, nearly knocking the breath out of her.
‘You magician,’ Raye said into her ear, still squeezing. ‘The snow? The backdrop? The swordfight? I loved it.’
‘You hate theatre,’ Ivy managed, grinning. ‘You said you get second-hand embarrassment from all the pauses.’
‘I liked this theatre,’ Raye corrected. She looked past Ivy and raised an eyebrow. ‘And you must be Trip,’ she said, sticking out her hand. ‘I’ve heard all about you. Incurable optimist? Director of the first coherent Fox Bay show in living memory? Sunshine to Ivy’s storm cloud?’
Trip, unfazed, extended a hand. ‘That’s me. Hi. And you must be Raye, Ivy’s Fox Bay partner-in-crime and fellow creative?’
‘Guilty,’ said Raye, graciously shaking his hand. She turned and beckoned to Cleo. ‘Cleo, this is Ivy’s friend, Trip. The director of the masterpiece you just witnessed.’
Cleo smiled warmly. ‘Congratulations on the show. Completely unhinged, in the best way.’
‘Now,’ called Mr Hargreaves from up on the stage, ‘the after-party! Everyone grab a chair and stack them up and then we’ll bring out the food.’
The audience did as they were told. Parents were hugging their kids, teachers were congratulating each other, toddlers were running wild with bits of leftover paper snow stuck in their hair.
The hall buzzed with victory. Out of all the strange and unwieldy plays that Mr Hargreaves had come up with and the inhabitants of Fox Bay had patiently sat through, this was the only one that had been an unqualified success and the audience could hardly believe their luck.
Lou bustled in with trays of pizza and Simi poured glasses of wine.
With great care, Fin directed a team of eight people carrying in a long trestle table that bore an enormous, burnished Cornish pasty. They all gathered round and watched with bated breath as it was measured.
‘Only thirteen-and-a-half feet,’ said Kate, shaking her head regretfully. ‘And the entry in the Guinness Book of Records is fifteen. Sorry, Fin. There’s always next year.’
‘Oh well,’ said Fin, sighing. ‘It’s good to have dreams.’
‘And I bet it tastes amazing,’ said Josie loyally, slipping her hand into his.
‘We have,’ Mr Hargreaves bellowed from the stage, ‘done the final count of the ticket takings and we’ve officially smashed our fundraising goal, people! In fact, it’s nearly double what we needed. The library is saved!’
‘Who needs public funding when you can exploit child labour to raise the money,’ muttered Ivy, but she couldn’t help smiling at the look of joy on Melissa’s face.
The party wore on and Ivy quickly lost Trip in the crowd of well-wishers.
She was hearing all about dinner with Cleo’s parents from Raye when a sudden, delighted squeal rose up from the corner.
She looked over to see Lou, cheeks glowing, standing with one hand protectively over her belly, and Simi beside her, grinning like she’d won the lottery.
‘You’re pregnant?’ cried Kate. ‘That’s so exciting. We all thought you were hiding a secret wedding.’
‘Yeah, I can’t believe you thought we’d get married without telling anyone,’ Simi was saying. ‘We’ve been having IVF. We didn’t want to say anything till we had the twelve-week scan – you know what this place is like.’
‘A summer baby!’ cried Josie mistily. ‘Oh, this will be wonderful for the psychic energy of Fox Bay.’
‘Let it Snow’ was playing and Ivy found herself beaming.
Raye darted into the crowd to introduce Cleo to her parents.
Ivy glanced over to see that Mei, Erin and Callum were sitting on the edge of the stage, sharing a bag of crisps and giggling at something on Callum’s phone.
Ivy watched them, their heads bent close in the way of old friends.
She hesitated a moment, then took a breath and walked over, nerves tugging at her stomach.
‘Hey,’ she said. ‘Can I … interrupt?’
‘Of course you can,’ said Mei, looking up. ‘What’s up? Relieved that it’s over?’
‘I guess. But I’ll miss it, in a way.’ Ivy scratched the back of her neck, feeling intensely awkward. ‘I just … I wanted to say sorry.’
‘Sorry?’ said Callum, frowning.
‘Yeah. I know you guys always tried to be friends at school and I shut you out. I tried to tell myself I was a loner, but the truth is … I was being defensive.’
Callum raised an eyebrow. ‘She admits it.’
Mei elbowed him. ‘Shut up, Cal. It’s fine, Ivy.’
Erin shook her head, smiling her megawatt smile. ‘Yeah, it’s totally fine. You don’t have to apologise.’
‘I do, though,’ Ivy said. ‘And I know I’ve been rude all holiday. To be honest, it was hard seeing you all settle in so fast at uni. You sounded like you were having the best time ever and I—’ she took a deep breath, ‘I’ve been hating it.’
‘You have?’ said Erin, frowning.
‘Big time. I’m lonely, I have zero friends, I had one relationship that lasted a fortnight and I think I’m going to fail the year because my marks are so bad.
It couldn’t really have gone worse. You guys seemed really happy so I felt embarrassed admitting it’s been a disaster.
Especially when I made such a big thing out of leaving Fox Bay to go to art school. ’
For a moment, the gang were silent.
Then Mei spoke, her voice gentle. ‘Ivy, you’ve got it all wrong. Uni hasn’t been easy for us, either.’
‘Seriously,’ Erin nodded. ‘I felt totally out of place for the first month. I didn’t know anyone. I missed home like mad. I spent Fresher’s Week alone eating brie in my room. I cried to my dad nearly every night. I nearly dropped out.’
‘Same,’ said Callum. ‘I mean, I like the course but … I still think about being here. Working at the shop, biking around the cliffs, playing football. Everyone knows me here. It’s safe, you know?’
Mei sighed. ‘And I’ve been juggling way too much. Classes, societies, the bar, trying to keep up with everything and everyone. Sometimes I feel like I’m barely holding it all together.’
Ivy looked at each of them, surprised. ‘You’re struggling too? Why didn’t you say anything?’
‘We thought you were having the best time,’ Callum said. ‘You seemed okay. Moody as usual, but okay.’
‘I’m not actually that moody. That’s just my resting artist face,’ Ivy muttered.
They all laughed, the tension breaking.
‘Ivy, we like you,’ Erin said simply. ‘Even if you were a hermit all through school.’
‘Even if you called me a jock with no soul,’ added Callum.
‘Yeah,’ Mei agreed. ‘We really like having you in the mix.’
Ivy smiled, a little teary-eyed now. ‘Thanks, guys. I’d love a second chance, if you’ll have me. I just needed some time to figure things out.’
‘Well,’ Callum said, raising his paper cup, ‘here’s to figuring things out.’
They clinked cups in a clumsy toast.
And then Liv cannonballed into them with a shout of, ‘We did it!’, and Ivy found herself collapsing into laughter. With her friends. Not acquaintances – but her actual friends.
‘Ivy,’ said Brooke, appearing at her shoulder. She looked purposeful but slightly nervous. ‘Can I talk to you for a sec?’
‘Sure,’ said Ivy. ‘As a matter of—’
But just then, her phone rang. When she saw the number, Ivy felt her heart thumping.
‘Excuse me, Brooke,’ she said, ‘I have to take this.’
She hurried out into the corridor. ‘Ivy Pearson speaking,’ she said breathlessly into the phone, letting the door shut on the noise of the party.
‘Hello, Ivy.’ Her tutor Jess’s amused voice came down the phone. ‘I got your email. You’ve certainly had a productive few weeks. I wish all my students were this busy during the holidays.’
Ivy could scarcely breathe. ‘You saw my sketches?’ she asked.
‘I found them delightful. Deftly drawn. Wonderful snatches of everyday life. And these photos of your set design, of this … is it a lobster with a rum bottle?’
Ivy flushed. ‘I know it’s silly. It was just to give a sense of …’
‘I thought the sets were charming,’ Jess said.
Ivy drew breath. ‘I know my work last term at Truro wasn’t exactly … great.’
‘No,’ Jess said honestly, ‘it wasn’t. To be honest, I was worried you were on the wrong course. And now I’m sure of it.’
‘Oh,’ said Ivy, faltering.