Epilogue
Five Years Later
Hello, Ellie here.
I thought you might like an update on what’s been going on. I told Mum and Dad to do it, but they say they’re too busy. When
I say Mum, I mean Livvy. I started calling her Mum a few years ago when Harry, my brother, was born. I still have video mum but she
doesn’t call much, and anyway, I think of Livvy as my mum now, so it makes sense to call her that. She cried a bit when I
first did, which kinda worried me, but she told me it was good tears. So anyway, you know now that I have a brother, Harry,
who’s four and mega-cute, but don’t tell him I said that. We all live together in a new house. It’s much bigger than the last
one, and Dad says that’s because Mum is a big cheese in the city and earns lots of money. All I know is I don’t see her much
four days a week, but on Friday she works from home so she’s there when I get home from school. We have stables and a horse
each . . . well, three of us have horses. Dad says he’d rather play football. Plus I know he sneaks down to the kitchen when
we’re off riding so he can experiment with his menus for the restaurant he’s gonna open when Harry’s a bit bigger. He’s calling
it Heart of Nantucket, which sounds sloppy to me but it made Mum cry—happy tears, she said. Dad’s got millions of Instagram
followers now, which is kind of embarrassing ’cause my mates at school follow him and see him making these goofy videos. Then
again, he is funny, and my girlfriends think he’s hot, so I guess it could be worse. Harry says he wants to be a chef like
Dad when he grows up, but he’s only four so he’s bound to change his mind. I like watching Dad cook but I think Mum’s got
a better job. She’s a chief investment officer. She tried to explain what that meant when she showed me her office but I got
distracted by the big glass windows and super-cool view. I think what I’d really like to be is a show jumper in the Olympics.
Maybe after that I can do finance like Mum. Dad always said I could do anything I want to if I work hard enough. I used to
think he was talking rubbish, to be honest, but Mum works really hard and she’s a big boss in her company so in a way, she’s
proved he’s right. Not that I’d ever admit it.
Oh, did I tell you they got married in Nantucket? Dad did a speech where he said Mum once told him she didn’t want marriage
or children. He laughed, said it proved how persuasive he could be.
She said it proved how much she fell in love with me.
Anyway, I’ve got to go ’cause we’re packing to see Gran and Pops in Devon. Me and Harry are going riding with them, and Mum
and Dad are going to leave us to go walking for a few days. Well, that’s what they said they’re gonna do, but I’m not a baby
now. I know that look they give each other. Maybe I’ll get another brother in nine months, or a sister.
Hang on, Dad’s shouting up at me.
“Ellie, get your sweet arse down here and taste my cookie-dough waffle sandwiches.”
“Can’t Mum do it?”
“She says she’s busy.”
“Yeah, well, so am I. I’m writing.”
“She’s busy earning money.”
“Fine. Give me two minutes.”
Sorry, readers, I’ve got to go and tell Dad his latest creation is the best I’ve ever tasted. To be fair, he is an ace cook
and anything made with cookies and waffles has to be good, right? So I’ll leave you here, but at least now you know it all
worked out for us.
I believe it’s what they call a Happy Ever After.