“I do. But that’s a big commitment. I want to think it through.”
I hear Isaac sigh. “Alright, man. Take a month. They’ll wait for you. But if you know sooner, please go ahead and let me know.”
“I will. Thanks, Isaac.”
We begin our tour, and I enjoy watching Ivy’s expressions as we move from room to room. Her eyes are wide and her mouth often hangs open. We’re standing in The Banqueting Room. Everyone’s silent, apart from our guide who is telling us about King George IV’s feasts, when I feel the need to sneeze. The thing is, I don’t just sneeze. I do it in such a way that if I’m indoors, people worry the building might fall down. So far, no one has given me a second glance. There is so much to look at here that I’ve gone unnoticed. Ivy would give no credit to my hat and glasses.
My eyes water and nostrils burn as I try to stop the sneeze.Unfortunately, my anonymity is about to go out the window. The sound reverberates off the walls—of what has to be the most echoey space in the building—and every head in the room turns to me. There is a chorus of “Bless Yous” and “Gesundheits”, half of which fade out toward then end as, I’m assuming, they realize who has been lingering at the back of the group this whole time.
“Alexander Henry?” an older and, if I’m not mistaken, French man asks.
“Ah, yes. Hello everyone.” I give a small wave to our group of fifteen or so. The tour leader looks at me like I have stolen his audience, and he isn’t pleased. “So sorry. You were telling us about the chandelier. It is truly remarkable.”
“Oh, yes. Please tell us more,” Ivy adds, and thankfully that was all the encouragement our tour guide needed.
After our tour, we take photos outside the palace with many of the members of our tour group, including the, for some reason, all-important group photo. These people acted like we had become best friends during a week of summer camp and were saying goodbye. We have a woman take a photo of just us in front of the palace and I send it on to Mr. Crawley, who, of course, doesn’t respond.
“What now? We could make it back to London by half five or so.”
“I’d like to see more of this place.”
“I’d love that, but … are you sure?”
“Yeah. I want to go to the pier,” Ivy says, looking at her phone where she has already searched for the attractions in Brighton.
“I’m sure you can’t see the nude beach from there, if that’s what you’re hoping for.”
Ivy bursts out laughing, which fills my entire body with happiness. “That is too bad. I was very much hoping to see a large amount of sagging skin today.”
It takes us less than ten minutes to walk to the pier, Ivy holding my hand the entire time. She laughs when we arrive.
“What?”
She points to a sign near the entrance: Fish and chips. Of course.
“Are you hungry?” I ask, but she is already pulling me in the direction of the food.
“No. But we have to try it. We’ll share. It’ll be an afternoon snack.” She paused. “Tea! It will be our tea. Totally English.”
He laughs. “Sure. Totally English.”
We get our food and head onto the pier. The wooden deck is covered with games and rides. An arcade sits in the middle. The whole place is rather wild, yet Ivy’s first comment is:
“It’s so funny to me that it’s called a toilet here. I mean, I get it, you aren’t going in there to rest or take a bath, but still. It seems so crass. Toilets are gross.” We watch as a woman walks out of the toilet. “Does that woman look like she just stepped out of a toilet?”
I just laugh. “Come on. Let’s find something more exciting than arestroomto look at.”
“Does such a thing exist?” She laughs, and I desperately wish I could snatch the sound from the air and stick it in my pocket so I could pull it out and hear it anytime I wanted.
34
Ivy
Theseabreezedancingaround my ill-fitting sundress makes me nearly forget my sundress is ill-fitting. This vacation is turning out better than I could have ever imagined. I got to spend time with my family, and I’ll do that again soon, and I’ve spent time with Alex, who I’m certain I’d be falling in love with if I weren’t so stubborn.
As much as he might draw me in. As much as I might want to give in, ultimately, I know what I’m keeping us from is for the best. For both of us. It’s just unfortunate that I’m the only one keeping us on this side of the line. I think he had folded without realizing it before he even suggested we pretend.
I watch as a mother and her two young daughters play hand games as they wait to ride the carousel. The mom pokes one ofthe girls playfully in her belly, and the girl giggles and squeals. “Mummy, stop being silly.”
