The Implausible Story of Olive Far Far Away

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The Implausible Story of Olive Far Far Away Page 27

by Tonya Alexandra


  ‘For me?’

  ‘For sure.’

  ‘But why?’

  He picks up my hand and holds it in front of my face. ‘Why do you think?’

  Holy crap, I think again, I’m not invisible.

  The curse has died with Derry.

  ‘We should get back to Rose and Muirgheal,’ I say, stepping away from Dillon and wiping my eyes. ‘Rose will be going out of her mind if this is true.’

  ‘Yer right.’

  We start walking up the track. The path is narrow so I follow in Dillon’s footsteps, thinking about life and mortality. Where we come from and where we go. I think about my grandparents doing this for me. How love is real in actions not words.

  ‘Do you feel any different?’ Dillon asks me.

  I wrinkle my nose as if it doesn’t matter at all. ‘Eh. I was cool with being invisible.’

  ‘No more first class.’

  ‘Oh cac. I’m going to have to buy a ticket to England?’

  Dillon laughs. ‘I’ll shout ya. We can use Simon’s credit card.’

  When we reach Dillon’s bike I see the warped reflection of a girl walking beside Dillon in the muffler. It’s me. My reflection. Any pretence of nonchalance evaporates and I bend to examine myself in the side mirror. I scrunch up my face.

  ‘What do you think?’ Dillon asks.

  ‘Honestly I thought I’d be better looking. How the hell did I get you and Tom?’

  Dillon shrugs as he gets on the bike. ‘Mystery to me, love.’

  Stupid truth.

  ‘Maybe I’m just a nice person,’ I say, but even I can’t keep a straight face. We both crack up laughing as we speed away into the hills—into a future where anything is possible.

  Watch out.

  EPILOGUE

  I’m standing at the altar with Felix, Tom, Dillon and Simon, in the Gothic chapel of Shewthrop Hall.

  ‘I didn’t know I could marry you all,’ I hiss. ‘Why didn’t you tell me this before? Would have saved a lot of heartache.’

  Tom rolls his eyes, Simon swallows awkwardly and Dillon chuckles.

  ‘Shhh,’ says Felix. ‘Just hold it together for twenty minutes, then you’re free.’

  Twenty minutes. God.

  The wedding march starts up and the bridesmaids parade up the aisle in puffy lilac frocks. Prue and the earl follow with a majestic stride. It’s all very formal and impressive.

  ‘Can I trip her up, bub?’ I whisper back. ‘Pleeease? You can’t see her fall.’

  ‘Yes, but people can see you, Ol,’ he points out.

  Oh yeah. Dumb visibility.

  ‘Just tell me what she looks like,’ Felix says.

  I turn to compose my report, aiming for only the slightest touch of mockery, but when I look at Prue—when I really take her in—she looks so happy I involuntarily start to weep.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Felix hisses at me. ‘Are you … crying?’

  I wipe my eyes, remembering that all these dumb people can see me. ‘She’s just so beautiful, Lix. The Victoria’s Secret model and the smile, you got it in one.’ It is a bit of an exaggeration but what the hell. It’s the two things he wants to see most in the world. I may as well give it to him.

  Felix reaches for my hand and squeezes it. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘It still should have been me,’ I say, and Felix does a terrible job of hiding his smile.

  Prue has reached us now. She passes her bouquet to a bridesmaid and takes her place next to Felix after the earl kisses her on the cheek. There is a kind of awkward moment where the earl is trying to pass her hand over to Felix but I’m not letting go of him, and Prue is frowning because Felix is still turned towards me instead of her, but Tom steps up and saves the day.

  ‘She’s here, mate.’ He unlaces my fingers and guides Felix’s hands into Prue’s.

  ‘Saboteur,’ I mutter at Tom. But he slips his hand in mine and holds on fast.

  The ceremony is boring but it’s nice to hold hands with Tom. I chance a look up at him and I can see everything there: a love, a husband, a father, someone to grow old with. It’s wonderful but I’m not there yet. I turn to Dillon. He’s sitting down with his guitar now, singing Elton John’s ‘Your Song’ while Felix and Prue sign the register. He doesn’t look at me once but I know he sings every word for me. I want to go over and pash him for it.

  They’re both so different. I don’t know how I love them both, but I do.

  I know that will change. I know they’ll both break my heart and I’ll break theirs. It’s bound to get complicated. But I say bring it on. Why shouldn’t life be interesting?

  After the ceremony, Jordan, Simon and I drink champagne at the bar. ‘I’m glad that’s over,’ I say. ‘It’s awful having people look at you all the time. How do you get away with anything?’

  ‘You did good in there,’ Jordan tells me. ‘I was totally expecting you to screw up somehow.’

  ‘Thanks for your vote of confidence.’

  ‘You’re welcome.’

  I take a swig of champagne, glancing around at the crowd. I’m surprised by how many people they’ve managed to assemble for an ‘intimate’ wedding. God knows how many would have shown up for a ‘society’ one. ‘Who are all these people?’ I ask Simon.

  ‘Family mostly.’

  ‘Hell of a family.’

  ‘Not as big as your new one I hear,’ he says.

  ‘True.’

  ‘Do you have an inkling of what you’ll do after the wedding?’ Simon asks.

  ‘Still tossing it around.’ I snatch an hors d’oeuvre from a waiter passing by, careful to only take one, which sucks. You can steal as many as you like when you’re invisible. ‘Dillon wants to show me around Ireland properly and Tom wants me to go to London.’

  ‘What do you want to do?’ Jordan asks.

  ‘I kind of have an idea.’

  ‘What is it?’ Jordan says. They both lean towards me, curious.

  It makes me laugh. ‘You two are literally on the edge of your seats!’

  ‘Just shut up and tell us,’ says Jordan, making sure she pushes herself back as if she doesn’t give a toss.

  ‘Okay. Well, I’d really like to track down Dillon’s aunt, Fuamnach. Derry said she’s practised in the old ways. I want to find out.’

  Jordan narrows her eyes and points her champagne glass at me. ‘You just want to learn gypsy magic.’

  I shrug. ‘It’s in my blood. It’s not my fault if I’m a natural.’

  ‘Oh my god, Olive.’

  I turn to Simon. ‘You’ll give me Ardan’s number won’t you, Si?’

  Simon’s face pinches; he knows Jordan won’t like it. ‘I’m not certain that’s the wisest plan.’

  I flick my hair over my shoulder. ‘Okay. I’ll just move in with you at Shewthrop. You’ve got the room right?’

  ‘I’ll get the number,’ Simon says abruptly, making us all laugh.

  ‘It’s all right. You don’t have to. I stole it from your dad’s file. Gave it to Dill too.’

  ‘Of course you did.’

  ‘Promise me you won’t do anything stupid,’ Jordan says. ‘It could be danger—’ She kicks me sharply on the shin. ‘You’re not even listening are you?’

  Another disadvantage of being seen: people notice when you’re not paying attention.

  ‘Not really, no,’ I say. ‘Hey, Si, who’s the babe in the kilt?’

  ‘That’s my cousin, Ewan.’

  ‘Another cousin, eh?’

  ‘Olive …’ Jordan warns me.

  ‘What? I’m just looking.’

  ‘It’s not “just looking” when a guy can see you looking.’

  ‘Really?’ This is interesting. I tilt my head and experiment.

  ‘Are you giving him the eye?’ Jordan demands.

  Am I? I experiment some more. He is definitely looking back. ‘I am!’ I squeal. ‘I’m giving him the eye!’

  Jordan shakes her head in disapproval. ‘Cac, Olive. Play it cool.’
r />   She’s right. I need to learn all her ice-cold ways. But to be honest, I’ve got better things to do. I leap up from my chair, rolling my shoulders and shaking out my hands. ‘Hey Pins, I just realised you’ve never seen me dance for real.’

  She looks at me with amusement. ‘You really think your moves are better than mine?’

  ‘Come on. I’m bound to be better. You’re looking at nineteen years of unashamed practice. I could dance Baby back into her corner.’

  Jordan sets down her champagne. ‘Is that a challenge?’

  I watch in amazement as she pulls off first one heel, then the other. I grab her arm, wringing it in excitement. ‘Oh my god. Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?’

  Jordan hands her shoes to Simon, then faces me. ‘Bring It On dance battle. Winner claims Dancing Queen title for life.’

  I jump up and down, clapping my hands. ‘Yes! Yes! A zillion times yes!’

  Jordan laughs as I pull her onto the dance floor. I hope she’s still smiling after I kick her ass. It’s not my fault that I’m pretty much awesome at pretty much everything. She’ll have to get used to that.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  I’ve been lost on the road many times myself and rely on my own group of Jordans and Felixes to get me out of trouble. In this book I couldn’t have found my way without:

  Lisa Schofield, my golden girl of support and advice. Honest Jock, who kills it at critique. Mads Maher, who instructed me on all things Paddy. Lucy Hordern, my China/Tibet/Nepal expert who wound up in India with her own annoying Simon (in my admittedly biased opinion). My mates from the CBCA Northern Sydney Sub branch and the chicks from Down the Rabbit Hole. My friends who keep me sane during the ride—Mina, Jennifer, Peta, Willow, Jo. My agent, Tara, plus Laurie, Julia and Rachael from Harlequin, who I’m honoured to travel this road with. I couldn’t ask for cleverer companions.

  Thanks to my parents and sisters for giving me the confidence to go out there and get lost in the first place. And to Sean who brings me home. Finally, thanks to my boys, Ethan, Owen & Vincent, who are brave and generous and wonderful enough to fight the dragons with me.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  TONYA has held a wide range of jobs including content producing for internet start-ups, PR work in Prague, travel writing, television documentary development and work as an extra on TV series and commercials. She loves etching, woodblock printing and carving and lives with her husband, three sons and staffy, Lola, near Manly. She is the secretary of the Children’s Book Council of Australia northern suburbs branch, and believes creativity and imagination are the answer to everything. You can visit her website at www.tonyaalexandra.com.

  ISBN: 9781489246943

  TITLE: THE IMPLAUSIBLE STORY OF OLIVE FAR FAR AWAY

  First Australian Publication 2018

  Copyright © 2018 Tonya Alexandra

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher:

  HQ Young Adult

  An imprint of Harlequin Enterprises (Australia) Pty Ltd.

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  Sydney NSW 2000

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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