by Sara Martin
“That’s good. Must be getting pretty uncomfortable for you.”
“It’s all right, but I’ll be able to relax much more at home.”
“How long are you off for?”
“Six months, at least.”
“I’m going to miss you.”
Anna laughed. “You’ll be fine. Besides, you can come visit me whenever you want.”
“Really? I’d like that.”
“And Ms. Tate will be taking over the library while I’m gone. She was the librarian here before I started.”
I sighed. “It won’t be the same without you.”
“Don’t be so dramatic.”
“Remember the first time we met?”
Anna nodded. “How could I forget? It was your first day of high school and my first day at a proper job. We were so nervous.”
When I first started at Bridgeway High, Lana went to another school at the time. I didn’t have any friends, so I often hid out at the library. That’s how I became so close with Anna.
“Anyway, what brings you here today? Looking for anything in particular?” Anna asked.
“Yes, actually.” I produced the list of books Mr. Donaldson gave me.
Anna took the piece of paper and ran her eyes over it. “Writing books? How interesting.”
“I would like to try taking it more seriously. Mr. Donaldson recommended these books.”
“So, you want to be a writer?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I just want to have a go at it.”
“Well, I hope it goes well. Please let me read some of your work.”
“Only if I manage to write something half-decent.”
“Of course, you will. Now, let’s see. I think we have most of these…” Anna looked the books up on the computer. “You’re in luck. We have all of them but one, and they’re all available.”
“Really? Great!”
Anna directed me to the appropriate section of the library. “If there’s anything you can’t find, let me know.”
“Thanks, Anna.”
I spent several minutes methodically searching the shelves and picking out the books I wanted. With my arms full, I returned to the issues desk.
“Are you sure you can carry all these?” Anna asked when I plonked them down on the desk.
“It’s fine. I can keep some in my locker.”
As Anna scanned the books through, it occurred to me I hadn’t given her Hole Hearted yet. I retrieved the copy from my bag. “I forgot to lend you this.”
“Oh? What is it?” Anna asked, taking a closer look.
“It’s Mr. Donaldson’s book.”
Anna gasped. “How on earth did you manage to get this?” She took the book in her hands and examined it, turning it over and over.
“Through a friend of Mr. Donaldson.”
“Can I really borrow this?”
“Yes, but take care of it.”
“I promise to keep it in good condition. Thanks, Ivy. I’ll let you know when I’m done with it.”
I headed to Opulence on Thursday for my next modelling session. The stairs creaked as I ascended to Julian’s studio. Now that I knew what to expect, I was much less nervous about modelling. Julian sat at his desk, sharpening all his pencils. The last of the afternoon light filtered in through the window, bathing him in a golden glow. He looked almost angelic.
“Hi, Ivy. How’s it going?” He turned to face me.
“It’s been an interesting week.”
“What happened?”
“Seeing you work on your art, it inspired me.”
A smile played on Julian’s lips. “Really? What are you working on?”
I blushed, suddenly embarrassed. “I want to become a better writer.”
“Oh, yeah. Priscilla told me you’re a writer. I’d like to read your work.”
“It’s not that great.”
“Priscilla said you were good.”
“Really?”
Julian nodded.
“I feel like I need to improve.”
“There’s always room for improvement. Nobody’s perfect.”
“Yeah. I suppose you’re right.”
Julian got to his feet. “Shall we get started?”
I nodded and positioned myself the same as last time. I had even remembered to wear the same clothes. Julian sat behind the easel, and I tried to remain calm under the intensity of his green-eyed gaze. Heat rose to my cheeks and my vision swirled. Eventually, the classical music in the background relaxed me, and I was away in my thoughts.
This session went much faster than the last. Before I knew it, Julian was telling me to get up.
“That’s all I need. I can do the rest without a model.”
“Oh.” I was surprisingly disappointed. “Will you need me again at all?”
“I think so. My final portfolio isn’t quite ready. I still need more practice.”
“Well, just text me whenever you need someone.”
Julian nodded.
I grabbed my bag, readying myself to leave.
“Ivy,” Julian began.
“Yes?”
“You’ve been a lot of help. I want… I want to pay you back somehow.”
“Oh. It’s okay. I don’t want anything in return.”
Julian hesitated. “How about I take you out for lunch one day? My treat.”
Caught off-guard, I struggled to formulate a reply.
Julian continued. “There’s this new café on Bryant Place. I’ve been meaning to go there for ages. I’d love to take you.”
Did my ears deceive me? He had even used the word love. “That sounds nice,” I said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.
“So, you’ll come? Is Saturday okay?”
“Yeah, suits me.”
“Okay. See you Saturday.”
I tried to stay calm, but on the inside, I was dancing with joy.
10
I approached Bryant Place, my stomach churning with nerves. My sense of joy at having lunch with Julian had turned into trepidation. This was my chance to try to make a good impression. I begged myself to try not to stuff it up.
The sun shone in the clear sky. I wore a sweater and a denim skirt with tights and boots. It had taken me ages to settle on this outfit. Cute but not dressed up. I dawdled along, still several minutes early. The café came into view.
You can do this, Ivy. With a gulp of air, I entered.
The café was a long and narrow room, windowless except at the entrance, giving the place a cave-like feel. The walls were exposed brick, and there were indoor plants all around—hanging from the ceiling and crawling over the walls. Saxophone music played. My eyes scanned the room, but I didn’t see Julian. I grabbed a magazine from the rack and took a seat. I flipped through it mindlessly, keeping one eye on the café entrance.
Julian arrived a couple minutes late, wearing jeans and a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He didn’t appear flustered at all, unlike me. Our eyes met, and he walked over.
“Hey. Hope you weren’t waiting too long.”
“No. For some reason, I have a habit of arriving early. It’s no problem.”
I put the magazine away while Julian settled in his seat.
“This is a cute place.”
“Yeah.” Julian looked around the room. “It’s even nicer than I thought it would be.”
“Thanks for taking me.”
“That’s okay.”
“How did you find out about this café?”
“I walk past it all the time.”
“But you never went in?”
“Yeah. I don’t know why. My parents were really into dining and used to take me out all the time. I don’t really eat out much anymore since they left.”
“Oh, really? Where did your parents go?”
“They’re in France.”
“What are they doing there? Are they on holiday?”
“They live there now. They’re restoring an old chateau in Bordeaux.”
I couldn’t help but sigh. It sounded so romantic. “That’s really cool. I mean, it sucks they left you. You didn’t want to go with them?”
“I could have if I wanted to, but I knew I’d get more work done if I just stayed here. I’m still living in their house. They’ll sell it once I’ve moved to Florence.”
“When’s the big move?” I asked, a little tentatively.
“Nothing’s been confirmed yet, but most likely November. I’m going to spend Christmas in France with my parents first and then head to Italy in January.”
“November? That’s so soon.”
“I know. Anyway, have you decided what you’re going to have?”
“I haven’t even looked at the menu yet.” I picked up a menu from the table and read through the options, my mouth watering. “Everything looks amazing. What are you going to have?”
“The Italian bowl with chicken.”
“That looks good. I might get the Spanish bowl with lamb.”
“Do you want a drink?”
“An orange juice, thanks.”
Julian went to the counter to order.
In his absence, I allowed myself to relax. So far, things were going pretty well. I was glad to have the opportunity to finally talk to him properly.
Julian came back to the table. “How’s school going? You’re in your last year, right? Must be stressful.”
“Yeah. It can be. Sometimes, I feel like I’m drowning in assignments. Mock exams are just around the corner, too.”
“Are you going to university next year?”
“Yeah. That’s the plan. I’m going to study law at Hill University.”
“Law?” Julian raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah. What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing. It’s just that you never struck me as a lawyer type.”
“Oh? Why not?”
Julian shrugged. “It was just a feeling.”
“It’s funny. Priscilla said something similar to me on the day we met.”
“What did she say?”
“That she felt I had an artistic spirit.”
Julian laughed. “Well, isn’t she right? You’re a writer, after all.”
“Well, not a writer, per se.”
“But you do write, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Then you’re a writer.”
“In a sense.”
“It took me a while to call myself an artist, too.”
“It’s not the same. Art is, like, your career.”
Julian laughed, shaking his head. “I wish it was. Actually, I have never even sold a drawing. That’s why I work at Lucky Books for minimum wage and Aunty Priscilla lets me use the studio for free.”
“But still—”
“You enjoy writing, don’t you?”
“Yes. I love it.”
“You should do what you love.”
“Perhaps you’re right.” I sighed. “Mr. Donaldson wants me to apply to a creative writing course next year.”
“That could be a good idea. Why not?”
“For a start, my parents would never let me.”
“Do you really need their approval?”
“I don’t think I’ll be able to afford university without their help.”
“You can always get a part-time job.”
“Yeah, I guess.” I contemplated his suggestion. I loved writing, but I always thought I shouldn’t waste my time on it. It wouldn’t ever lead to anything. But here was Julian, an artist with a studio and his work in galleries. He was living the kind of life I would never have dreamed possible. If he could be an artist, why couldn’t I be a writer?
“If you don’t mind me asking, why aren’t you at university?”
“It’s a long story.”
“It’s okay. Tell me.”
“Well, all right, then.”
I leaned in to listen closely.
“My original plan was to study a degree in fine arts after I finished school.”
“So, what happened?”
“I visited the National Art Gallery on a school trip. That’s when I discovered the work of Alberto Barsetti. I loved his art so much that I became obsessed. When I found out he was accepting students, I instantly knew that’s what I wanted to do.”
“So, you applied?”
Julian shook his head. “I couldn’t. Each intake is five years apart.”
“So, that’s why you’re still here…?”
“Yeah. I had to wait. But it’s given me the opportunity to save up and work on my craft, and this year, I was finally able to start my application. I’ve already made it through the first two rounds.”
“Wow, he must like your work.”
Julian nodded. “Basically, I’ve already been accepted. As long as I get my final portfolio in on time, I should get in.”
How impressive. I sighed. “I haven’t even thought about studying abroad. Actually, I’ve never even been overseas before. Is that bad?”
“I don’t think so. I’m sure that’s common.”
“What about you? Have you travelled?”
Julian nodded. “Extensively. My parents took my brothers and I around the world when we were kids.”
“Wow…that’s so cool. Must have been a wonderful childhood.”
“Not really. I didn’t appreciate it at all. I just wanted to be like a regular kid. Go to school and have friends.”
“Ah. That would have been tough.”
“Yeah, but looking back now, I realise how lucky I was. My brothers and I learnt so much more from travelling than from school.”
“How old are your brothers?”
“Twenty-two and twenty-five. I don’t see them much. They live overseas. Do you have any siblings?”
“No. I’m an only child.”
Our lunch arrived. I took a fork and began. “When did you become interested in art?” I asked when I had finished my mouthful.
Julian shrugged. “I’ve always liked to draw. My parents were really encouraging too. What about you? Have you always been a writer?”
“Yes, I think so. My parents don’t support it, though. It’s funny because my dad actually used to be a journalist.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. He still works for the newspaper, but he’s in advertising sales now.”
“Why did he switch to sales?”
“I don’t know. The money, I suppose. I’ve tried to ask him about it before, but he doesn’t like to talk about it. Part of me wonders if my mum had something to do with it. Maybe she pressured him into a higher paying job?”
“I’m sure there must be some other explanation.”
“You don’t know my mum.”
“I guess not. But still…” Julian sighed.
That broke the conversation for a while. Instead, we ate, enjoying our meals.
“I hate to have to ask, but when do you think you’ll be available for another modelling session?” Julian asked when he had finished eating.
“I have a couple of assignments due next week, so I probably won’t have any time. Then I’m out of town next weekend.”
“Where are you going?”
“The Law School open day at Hill University.”
“You might find out whether a law degree is really for you.”
“Yeah. I suppose I will.”
“Let me know how it goes.”
“Sure.”
We lingered for a while, letting our food go down. Julian checked his watch. “I should probably get going. Priscilla will be expecting me at the shop.”
I swallowed my disappointment and put on a smile. “Thanks for lunch.”
Julian returned the smile. “We should do it again sometime.”
“Really? Sure, I’d like that,” I blurted.
He opened the door for me. “I’ll text you.”
Later that day, I was sitting in my room and slowly working through the latest tedious assignment when my phone rang. I rushed to answer it, all too gl
ad for the disruption.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Ivy. It’s me, Anna.”
I was surprised to hear her voice. She sounded cheerful. I wondered what she could be calling about.
“Hey. How’s it going?”
“Just biding my time until the baby comes. I’m practically ready to burst.” She chuckled.
“How are you holding up?”
“I’m mostly confined to the couch these days. I can barely move. My husband has been waiting on me hand and foot.”
“That’s nice. Is he off work too?”
“No. He works from home, but I’m keeping his hands full for now. It will be even worse when the baby arrives.”
“I hope it all works out.”
“Thanks, Ivy. Anyway, I called because I finished Hole Hearted.”
“Oh! What did you think?”
“It’s a brilliant book, of course, but I had the strangest feeling. I felt a major sense of déjà vu.”
“Hmmm… Had you read it before without realising?”
“That’s what I thought at first, but I’ve been keeping a detailed log of every book I’ve read for several years now. I definitely hadn’t read it before, yet I couldn’t shake this feeling.”
“Huh. Weird.”
“I decided to investigate. I entered some passages from it into a book database to see what would come up. You’ll never guess what I discovered!”
“What?”
“A book with a different title and different author popped up. The Drifting Girl by Alexander Morris. It was published in the UK seven years ago.”
“What does that mean?”
“My theory is that, when Hole Hearted went out of print, Alfred must have regained the rights which he later sold to a publisher in the UK. The book then got republished under a different title and pen name.”
“Is The Drifting Girl still in print?”
“Yes, it is, and that’s not all. We thought Alfred only published one book, but if my theory is correct, Alexander Morris and Alfred Donaldson are one and the same, and there are several more books. Alexander Morris has ten titles to his name.”
“That’s incredible! It must be true. I knew Mr. Donaldson wouldn’t give up after one book.”
“Yes, I think so too. Too bad I didn’t hold on to my copy of The Drifting Girl. It isn’t easily available here, so I’ve ordered a copy from overseas. Hopefully, it will arrive soon. I have a gut feeling there will be answers within.”