I glance at my sketchbook, my latest illustration staring back at me, and I can’t help but focus on its imperfections. The pressure of delivering earlier than expected feels suffocating. I’m so afraid everyone will realise I’m not as great as they think I am. Insecurity overwhelms me. Yet, I have no choice but to face my fear.
I let out a deep sigh and drag myself to the kitchen table, trying my best to shake off the feeling of impending doom. There’s never enough time, never enough energy and never enough inspiration to make something perfect. Not for Lenka, not for Matilda Wilder, not even for myself. This task is too big for me; it requires patience and talent that I’m not sure I have. My heart races as I think about it all – pleasing everyone, attracting new readers, staying relevant – and how easily everything could fall apart if I fail.
With one hand pressed to my temple and the other gripping tightly onto the edge of the table, I realise I’ve got myself into something much bigger than myselfagain.
As I flick through my sketchbook, I think back to my first meeting with Lenka. She’d been so impressed with my portfolio, and that’s what granted me this opportunity in the first place. I try to cling to the memory of the confidence I felt that day, but it’s difficult. Why is it so hard to believe in our own abilities, even when others see them?
I pore over theForest Fableillustrations I’ve done since arriving in Innisfree. I do love them and I’m proud of them. For the first time in so long, I felt the joy of pure flow, ofcreative spark coursing from my heart to my hand onto the page. However, I know talent is only one part of the picture – determination and hard work are just as vital. So I take a deep breath and start listing out all the remaining illustrations, prioritising those I need to focus on first and allocating enough time for revisions. The task ahead is intimidating, but if I’m organised and focused, I can do it. If we can turn The Lake House around in such a short space of time, I’m sure I can pull this off with the same belief.
I feel a tightness in my chest as I contemplate the launch of a similar book from another publisher and how crucial it is that we release before them. Everywhere I turn I feel the burning eyes of an army of up-and-coming illustrators, all hungry for this chance to outshine me. My sense of urgency intensifies to a fever pitch. It’s an all-or-nothing situation: make the bold move or risk forever being left behind. A renewed sense of purpose drives me forward. I may never feel completely prepared or completely content with my artwork, but I can no longer afford to be hesitant and put things off. I need to let go of minor imperfections. It’s time to keep creating.
I stand up and arch my back, letting out a sigh of relief. I have less than three days to finish this project. But I’ve been working on it for weeks, and I realise I should be proud of what I’ve done so far. So I promise myself to put in my best effort, regardless of the outcome. I’ll do the best I can with the time I have, but I’m determined not to sacrifice my life and goals for someone who doesn’t respect me or my efforts again. I’ll live my life on my own terms.
CHAPTER 33
THE PARTY
I stand in the foyer of the once-crumbling lake house, breathing in the scent of freshly painted walls and newly polished floors. My gaze roams around in admiration of the high ceilings, intricate crown moulding and the warm glow cast by vintage chandeliers. I can’t help but feel a swell of pride as I reflect on the weeks of renovation work our team poured into the house and now it’s finished. Right on schedule. Ta-da!
We’d been complete strangers when we first stepped foot into the abandoned building, each with our own talents and personalities. But soon enough, we grew close, genuine buddies, clocking in countless hours of work and lots of laughter, fuelled by cups of tea. Bringing a shared dream together, turning this relic into something wonderful. As I run my fingers along the smooth balustrade of the polished staircase, I feel a gentle touch on my shoulder. I look up to find James, the lawyer turned tour guide turned historian turned odd-jobs man with quiet confidence and skilful hands that saved me here countless times.
He hands me a plastic envelope of documents. ‘Insurance has been approved,’ he says. ‘One of the last things you’ll have to sign.’
I take the packet and sit down on the bottom stair. As I slowly scan each page, James brings over two cups of coffee and slides onto the step beside me. He smiles knowingly as I sign off on the final page.
A hint of sadness hangs in his eyes as he gazes around the house. ‘It’s bittersweet, isn’t it?’ he says softly. ‘It turned out better than any of us could have imagined, but all good things must come to an end, eh?’
Without conscious thought, I take his hand and give it an encouraging squeeze. ‘We should celebrate our final night here at the house, while we’re all together,’ I suggest. ‘Something that’ll leave us with good memories.’
A sly smile creases James’ lips. ‘I may have just the thing. Be here for 8 p.m.’
‘Thanks, James – you’ve been such a great friend. If there’s ever anything I can do for you, let me know.’ He raises an eyebrow at me. ‘Like if you need any help? Like you broke your leg, or your account got hacked and you had no money, or if you got food poisoning…?’
‘Sounds like a great offer. Thanks.’He grins back at me, and I feel my heart flutter.
I laugh and throw my hands up in the air. ‘You know what I mean. I’m here for you, just like how you’ve been here for me.’
I think about all James has taught me since I got here. He’s helped me realise that it’s okay to not have everything figured out right away; that life will give us what we need when we least expect it and that being brave enough to take risks will lead us to places we never dreamed were possible. Even against the odds.
‘James,’ I begin hesitantly. ‘So what’s next for you now? What’s your plan?’
‘Well, I’ve had a little bit of news myself on the career front.’ He raises an eyebrow, almost coy.
‘Go on – tell me more!’ I gently nudge him in the ribs.
‘It’s a human rights position in Brussels that I’ve wanted for a while, but the timing wasn’t right – I couldn’t just leave Dad to manage the office on his own. But, strangely enough, it was him who suggested I apply! Not sure if he’s trying to get rid of me or if he’s thinking of scaling back a bit. Odds are I won’t get it, but I’m in with a slim chance,’ he says with a sigh.
‘A slim chance is still a chance,’ I reply optimistically. ‘We’ve faced tough odds before and come out on top!’
‘You’re right – if anyone can do it against the odds, it’s us, Daisy.’
I swallow. My cheeks flame, and all of a sudden, I just don’t know what to do with myself.
Oh dear.
Oh no.
Oh please.
