She groans and snuggles further into her sheets, yanking them up around her neck. ‘I’m good thanks. Grace has been great, checking in on me every five minutes. I think she’s grateful for the guitar you gave her.’
I give her a pitying smile. ‘I’m sorry you’re feeling so bad.’ I grab one of the pillows that’s propped against the wall and place it under her head.
The soft rapping on the door causes Kayla to pause in the middle of a sneezing fit. She wipes her nose with the back of her sleeve and calls out, ‘Who is it?’
As the door opens, a rush of cold air brings in Grace, whose bleached hair is slightly dishevelled. Her skin is the colour of porcelain, and her green eyes seem to sparkle against the paleness. A wide, friendly smile spreads across her face as she ducks her head in, her arms filled with a tray of steaming hot soup, fresh sandwiches and a bowl of colourful fruit.
She sets the tray down on the side table and starts to arrange the contents, as Kayla weakly asks, ‘What yummy treats do you have this time, Grace?’
With a reassuring smile, she says, ‘I’m here to bring you some healing food. I hope it helps.’
When Grace puts the food in front of Kayla, she gives her a thankful smile before she starts to tuck in. ‘Grace has been an angel, looking after me and providing entertainment,’ she says. She performs an elaborate bow and tips her head. ‘And it’s been my pleasure, Kayla. You’ve entertained me with stories of London’s nightlife – the clubs, fashion shows, theatre – it all sounds so wonderful.’ She claps her hands together, almost childlike. ‘I could listen to you talk all day long.’
Kayla and I exchange a knowing look. ‘Well, if you ever want to come visit us in London, you’re always welcome!’ I say.
Grace’s face comes alive with a smile as she stares out the window at the sun setting over Innisfree. She shakes her head and scrunches her nose. ‘My brother Ciaran is in Chicago – he was only supposed to go for a summer but fell in love with the lifestyle there and never came home! Broke my parents’ hearts.’ Her voice catches, and I feel a pang of sympathy forher, but before I can say anything, she grins and winks, her eyes twinkling. ‘It’s fine – Innisfree is my home.’ She places one hand over her heart. ‘And there’s no place like home.’ She turns to me, eyes full of curiosity. ‘So, how’d it go today? Anything interesting happen?’
I take a deep breath and tell her about adding the final touches to the house, and how amazing it’s been to see it all come together. ‘Now I just have to get used to the idea of leaving you all behind!’ I say, trying to sound upbeat.
‘But at least that means that you can sell it and have something to put towards your new place in London with Ash,’ Kayla says.
Grace taps her fingers together. ‘Oh my days, how exciting is that? Living your best life with your boyfriend in your own place… I can’t wait to live with my boyfriend. To share every moment together, to cook and chill and do whatever we want, whenever we want… Mum and Dad are strict about it, so I’ll have to wait. They think that people will talk…’
‘I’m sure they just want what’s best for you,’ I say. ‘But in the end, it’s your life and you have to make your own decisions.’
‘Oh, I know,’ Grace says with a grin. ‘But sometimes that’s easier said than done… Small towns are great on the one hand, but on the other, it can be hard. If we were in London, with all those people, nobody really knows everyone else’s business. It’s easy to reinvent yourself, be who you want, leave your hang-ups and history behind…’
I take a moment to pause and reflect on how fortunate I am; I have a great job, awesome friends and soon I can have a beautiful house in London. I’m so lucky to call London home. The city throbs with life, filled with merging cultures and lifestyles. As the day melts into night, the city transforms into a different kind of buzz. The London Eye lights up the sky, and the streets are full of people out for a night on the town.Trendy bars and chic restaurants line the streets, from the bright lights of Soho to the opulence of Mayfair. Everywhere you look, something new awaits, a constant reminder of what makes life so exciting. Grace is right… There’s no place like home; it’s what I know, what I’ve always known. Innisfree has been a fantastic experience, but it’s not long-term.
Ash and I are long-term.
Our plans are long-term.
Kayla starts to cough, bringing me back to the present.
‘Do you want me to call a doctor or go to the pharmacy?’ I ask.
She shakes her head. ‘No, it’s just the flu. My fault; I’ve been pushing myself too hard lately. This is my body’s way of telling me to slow down, and I can’t think of a better place to recuperate than here.’ She flashes Grace a smile.
Grace grins back. ‘I’ll let you rest now. Anything you need, just holler – I’m not going anywhere.’
My phone rings in my hand. My stomach drops as Lenka’s name flashes on the screen. I wasn’t expecting a call; I still have a few weeks until my deadline… Hesitantly, I lift my gaze to Kayla, grabbing my sketchbook and excusing myself for some privacy further down the hallway. Lenka doesn’t do good news.
CHAPTER 32
THE DEADLINE
I stand enclosed within the cosy hallway of the guest house, my gaze transfixed on the sepia-toned photos lining the walls, a recollection of the people who’ve passed through this haven.
‘Hey, Daisy, quick update for you,’ Lenka says with urgency in her voice. ‘We’re bringing the deadline forward to beat a competitor release. Also, the illustrations are now an open call. We want to cast a wider net, make sure we get the very best… No offence intended, of course. We don’t want to leave any stone unturned!’
Panic and shock set in as the pressure climbs to the mountaintops. The crushing weight of less time and fiercer competition bears down on my shoulders.
But Lenka reassures me, ‘You can do it, Daisy. This is a make-or-break moment – every illustrator in the country is whipping up their best work for this right now, so don’t hold anything back. Give it everything you’ve got.’
Gathering every ounce of courage, I thank her for the update and hang up the call, my thoughts a whirlwind. Today is Tuesday. She wants them Friday. That’s two weeks earlier than planned.
Granted, I’ve been working tirelessly on the illustrations at night, but my days have been entirely devoted to the house. And I loved how she just slipped in that it’s now anopen call. My heart skips a beat as panic sets in – it’s not just my commission anymore. I’m fighting for my life against every other hungry illustrator now.Lenka’s just gone and Hunger Games’d my life.
