‘Ivy Vega!’ Helga peeled off her gloves and rushed over, her hand extended. Ivy was about to pull Helga to her in a hug when she noticed something sparkling on her ring finger. She froze, staring at Helga’s hand. It was a sparkly antique diamond ring. ‘You’re engaged!’ she exclaimed.
Helga gave Ivy a shy smile. ‘Horatio proposed yesterday. We decided we didn’t have any time to waste!’
Olivia and Ivy had witnessed the butler’s crush on Helga develop into full-blown love during the run up to the royal wedding. Olivia had thought it was the most romantic thing ever and even Ivy had to admit she was pleased to see these two lovely people sharing secret glances. It had been like watching two old-style Hollywood actors politely charm each other in one of those rainy Saturday afternoon black-and-white movies.
‘Really? That’s killer!’ This time she did pull Helga in for a heartfelt hug.
‘Do they know each other?’ Ivy heard one of the other students ask. ‘I thought she came from some dorksville place called Franklin Grove.’
Helga pulled away, flattening her hair back into place. ‘Um, class?’ she said, returning to the front of the room. ‘I’m sure you are wondering what I am doing here. Miss Petrovsky had a sudden change of heart. She decided to retire. Something about allergies and children and a bad case of the sucker-footed bat pox. Anyway, please allow me to introduce myself. The Academy would like you to call me Miss Peneve but –’ she glanced over her shoulder – ‘I would like you to call me Helga.’
Ivy took her place at one of the desks. Petra was watching, her brow creased in a frown, as though she was annoyed to see Ivy with a friend from the past. But nothing could spoil Ivy’s delight at seeing Helga and remembering the good times they’d spent together, mixing potions.
Maybe good things can happen at Wallachia, after all, she thought, feeling the pleasure rising through her. Things were definitely looking up.
Chapter Four
Deep breaths, Olivia, deep breaths, she told herself. We’re twins, remember? Identical twins.
Olivia’s palms were sweating and she kept jiggling her right knee. She was totally going to give it away, especially if the layers of goth make-up she had painted on started dripping off her face. I have to calm down. She’d pulled off looking like Ivy before and she could do it again – couldn’t she?
Olivia was standing in the winner’s line at the box office that was set up in Franklin Fields. Sophia and Brendan stood waiting in line with her, among all the super-fans clad in band T-shirts. Brendan was bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, looking both nervous and excited. He pulled his hands out of his jacket, giving her an undercover thumbs-up and a sly smile that was probably supposed to be encouraging, but came out more Dracula-style sinister.
‘You’re going to be fine!’ He thumped her on the back.
‘Really?’ she asked. She wasn’t quite so sure. She’d done her best to research Ivy’s favourite band, searching through fan sites on the Internet, but would she really manage to kid everyone that she was the rightful owner of the tickets Ivy had won? ‘Are you sure I’m doing . . . OK?’ She looped her thumb and index finger into a circle, holding up her three other fingers.
‘Totally,’ Sophia reassured her with an arm squeeze.
I’m actually pulling this off! She only felt a little bit bad about the fibs that she’d have to tell in order to help Brendan. Look how pumped he and Sophia were! Their happiness had to offset at least some of her guilt, didn’t it?
Olivia couldn’t believe it when Brendan had eventually explained the favour that he needed from her. Two weeks before she and Ivy had left for Transylvania, Ivy had entered her name into a competition for three VIP passes to see The Pall Bearers, her absolute favourite angry metal band. By the time the winners were announced, she had been on a plane over the Atlantic. Ivy had won the tickets – Brendan had been copied in on the email as he was listed as an invitee Ivy would bring with her – but now she wasn’t around to claim them! Of course Olivia had ended up agreeing to help. She couldn’t leave Brendan and Sophia in the lurch.
‘I can’t believe we’re actually here!’ Brendan said now, pumping his fist. ‘Who would have thought Ivy would actually win?’
Olivia wished that Brendan would hold off celebrating until they were in the clear. She hadn’t actually picked the tickets up yet. ‘I’m just sorry Ivy can’t be here,’ Olivia said weakly. Seriously. You have no idea how much I wish my twin was here instead of me. ‘Missing all this? She’s going to feel like she’s been staked!’
‘She had a lot on her mind,’ said Sophia. ‘It’s understandable that she forgot about entering the competition.’ Both she and Brendan had been completely understanding, but this was The Pall Bearers they were talking about. When news came out about the tickets, what were they supposed to do? Miss out on the greatest band ever?
Olivia knew Ivy would feel dreadful if her decision to attend Wallachia had kept her friends from enjoying an event of a lifetime. So, here she was, trying to do the best, most convincing Ivy impression she had ever done. Her Hollywood life may be on hold, but that didn’t stop Olivia from acting her socks off!
Olivia tugged at the baggy black T-shirt she was wearing – so not her style – but Sophia and Brendan could only get tickets if the winner, a certain Ivy Vega, claimed them personally, and the man at the box office had Ivy’s photo on file from her original application. Olivia took another step forwards in line. It was almost her turn.