by Hannah Tovey
‘Scott?’
He’d grown a beard and his hair was wild. He looked a bit gaunt, like he’d been living in a cabin in the woods for several months.
‘Hello, Ivy.’
He looked to Jamie, then to me.
‘Hi, I’m Jamie,’ he said, holding his hand out to shake Scott’s.
Scott was stunned. They shook hands. An unbearable silence followed before Amit burped.
‘Let’s get you home, kiddo,’ Jamie said.
‘Goodbye, Ivy. Good to finally meet you, Scott.’
‘Give your dad my love,’ I said.
I watched them walk away, hand in hand across the playground – one of my favourite pupils, and the ex-fiancé who broke my heart.
I turned to Scott.
‘What are you doing here?’ I asked.
‘I came to see you. What was Jamie doing here?’
‘He was picking Amit up.’
His gaze was fixed on me. I studied the colours in his beard, the same colours as Mr Reid’s. I wanted to reach my hand out and stroke it, but I was paralysed.
‘I wanted to give you these,’ he said, handing me a parcel wrapped in brown paper. ‘You don’t have to open it now. You can take it away, read them later.’
‘Read them?’
‘I wrote you … ’
I peeked inside. There must have been over a hundred postcards in there.
‘The thing is, Ivy,’ he said, ‘LA isn’t that great after all. I don’t like surfing. I couldn’t find Camden pale ale anywhere. I hate Pilates, and everyone’s an actor. You know Mia and Noah are the only actors I’ve ever liked. But the main problem was you.’
‘Me?’
‘You weren’t there. I saw you everywhere. But you weren’t there.’
My chin trembled. I bit my lip. There were a million things I wanted to say, but all I could do was stare at the warm greys in his beard.
‘My dad helped me figure a few things out,’ he said.
‘I saw the photo of you together on Instagram – you looked so content. I wanted you to know I was thinking of you.’
‘I was thinking of you, too.’
He cleared his throat.
‘I owe you an apology. I thought if I made enough money to support them, then maybe we could go back to being us again, as a family. But the truth is, they were never happy together, and nothing I can do will change that.’
‘Scott—’
‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry it took me so long to realise that no job or amount of money is worth losing you.’
‘What does this mean? Are you back in London?’
‘Yes. I missed you. I missed London. I needed to come home.’
I reached my hand out and touched his face.
‘I’ll lose the beard, if that’s what it comes down to.’
I laughed. There was no point denying it. I was utterly in love with him.
I kissed him so hard he fell backwards. He enveloped me in a gigantic hug and I lost myself in his arms. He smelt like airplane food and instant coffee. He smelt like home.
Mary interrupted us.
‘I take it you’re not coming to the pub?’ she said, shouting across the playground.
‘Fancy a drink with everyone?’ I asked Scott.
‘Yes, I’d love that.’
‘We’ll see you there, Mary,’ I shouted back at her.
‘Good, you owe me that pinot blush,’ she called back. ‘Lovely to see you again, Scott. Fabulous beard, very lumberjack-chic.’
‘Tell me the truth,’ he said. ‘What do you think?’
‘You look like Tom Hanks in Castaway, and I’m really into it.’
‘I want to start over,’ he said.
He took his hand out to shake mine. ‘Hi, I’m Scott.’
There was only one thing to do.
‘I’m Ivy,’ I said. ‘Nice to meet you.’
*
REASONS THAT EVERYTHING IS OUT-OF-THIS-WORLD EXPLOSIVE-KNOCK-YOUR-SOCKS-OFF PHENOMENAL:
Lack of back fat
Scott
I know what I want to be
REASONS TO BE MISERABLE:
None (for now)
Acknowledgements
When I started writing this book, I was blissfully unaware that a global pandemic was right around the corner. Our lives have been turned upside down, but as I write this, I am more hopeful than ever, and that is largely down to the following extraordinary people.
To the Warrior Women that make up Team Ivy –
My agent Hayley, for your unflagging encouragement and invaluable advice. You are the best in the business and your trust, guidance and friendship mean the absolute world to me.
Emma, Sarah, Anna, Beth and Brionee at Little, Brown, for investing so much time and energy into my work. Thank you for your dedication and vision. How anyone is able to publish a book without you is beyond me.
To Frankie and Lyndsey, for being so generous and feeding me such heart-warming, hilarious tales of what it’s like to be a teacher. Your pupils are so very lucky to have you.
To the Faber Academy Class of ’18, for reading early drafts, and for all the spot-on suggestions that have helped make this book what it is. Freya, Vanessa and Lissa, I am forever indebted to you.
To the lovely readers, bloggers and bookstagrammers, who continue to shout about Ivy. It’s such a joy to be part of your community and I am eternally grateful for your kindness and support.
To Judith, for letting me write in your beautiful garden, and for supplying me with all the leftover wedding wine to get me through the brutal edits.
To my wonderful pals, for the laughs and the shoulders to cry on (albeit over Zoom). I can’t wait to drink endless martinis with you again (definitely not over Zoom).
To my family, I wouldn’t be able to do any of this without you. I’m sorry I swear too much and throw too many tantrums. I love you so much and can’t wait to squeeze you tight when this is all over.
To Philip, where did you come from? Thank you for always dancing in the kitchen with me. You really are the greatest human around.
Glossary
Athrawes: Female teacher
Bach: Small (Can also be used affectionately to address a person you love i.e.‘Hello, bach’)
Cwtch: Cuddle or hug (pronounced ‘kutch’and literally translates to, ‘a safe place’. Can also be spelt, ‘Cwtsh’)
Da iawn: Very good
Dewch i mewn: Come in
Diolch yn fawr: Thank you very much (‘diolch yn fawr iawn’ can be used, too)
Joio: Lovely. Grand. OK. (Used to emphasise that you’re content with the situation)
Mae hi’n bwrw hen wragedd a ffyn: It’s raining cats and dogs
Mun: A word that doesn’t mean anything, used to add emphasis to whatever you’re saying.
Penblwydd hapus: Happy birthday
Pob lwc: Good luck
Prynhawn da: Good afternoon
Rwy’n dy garu di: I love you
Tamping: Livid
Twmffat: Idiot
Twp: An affectionate way to describe someone who’s acting silly.
Unol Daleithiau America: United States of America
Ych-a-fi: Yuck/Ew/Gross!
Hannah Tovey is from South Wales and grew up in Hong Kong. She graduated from the Faber Academy in 2018, where she finished her debut novel, The Education of Ivy Edwards. Hannah lives in East London where she misses Llanelli beach, her mother and cockles.
Visit Hannah on Twitter: @hannahctovey
Also by Hannah Tovey
The Education of Ivy Edwards
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