Nora rolled her lips together. ‘I think it needs a lot of work but you have an eye for colour so I’m sure when it’s finished it will look great. I’m just wondering why you’ve swapped your car for this?’
Sometimes Dixie got ahead of herself and this was one of those times. ‘Sorry. I forgot the most important part.’ She waved her hands in lieu of a drumroll. ‘This is my angle!’ Dixie had spent a lot of time researching her options and the ones that appealed required an upfront investment and there was no way she was going to ask her parents for a handout. When she’d found she could trade her current car for the van, it had seemed like the perfect solution. She pointed at the vehicle. ‘I’m going to video myself doing up the campervan because people love renovation projects. There’s a Victorian house one that’s had thousands of views.’
‘Good idea. I think there’s months of work in this project so that’s a lot of Instagram content,’ said Nora.
Dixie looked inside the van. ‘I wasn’t thinking it would take that long but whatever.’
‘And then are you going to sell it for a profit?’ asked Nora.
‘The plan is to go travelling in it.’ She threw up her arms but Nora’s expression said she wasn’t feeling as enthusiastic.
‘When you say travelling…’
‘I mean anywhere and everywhere. To be honest, I haven’t got an itinerary, but how cool would it be to take it to Val d’Isère for the ski season? I could catch up with Ma and Pa there too. And then on to Paris for spring, where I could film all the gardens and cafés and then do the Greek islands in summer and—’
‘I hate to be a downer but you might want to do a course in mechanics before you go. A car of this age is 80 per cent more likely to need towing off the motorway than a newer one.’
‘But the salesman said vans like this were made to last. Actual people put them together, not robots,’ said Dixie, remembering how impressed she’d been with that fact. ‘She’s solid,’ she added, tapping on the front wing and sending rust flakes floating into the air.
‘She?’ questioned Nora.
‘Yes. I’m ignoring the fact that she’s blue because I hate the gender stereotype of blue for boys and pink for girls. Yuck. Down with the patriarchy. But I can’t ignore that her numberplate ends with the letters LC.’
Nora was doing that thing where she squinted like she was properly concentrating on something. ‘And what do the initials LC stand for? Lily Collins? Lewis Carroll?’
‘He was a man. But Lily Collins was a good call because I’m kind of doing an Emily in Paris but with a campervan and without the unfriendly people. But neither of those. It’s LC.’ Nora was still looking vexed. ‘Like the old-fashioned name Elsie.’
‘Oh OK. Now I get it. I think,’ said Nora, still looking a bit confused.
‘Nora, meet Elsie. Elsie, this is my good friend Nora.’ Nora smiled politely as Elsie’s exhaust emitted a delayed rumble and another cloud of smoke burst out.
‘Elsie says hello.’ That was what Dixie hoped it meant, and not a death rattle.
6
Nora didn’t have many close friends. Primary school had been a bit patchy in terms of friendships. Quite a few in her class seemed to be mates with others because their mums chatted at school pick-up time. Nobody spoke to Una at school pick-up. At that stage her English had been improving but her accent was obvious. Discussions in class about simple things like what everyone had had for tea were baffling to a child who had no idea what a spaghetti hoop was, let alone eaten one. The few friends Nora had made went on to a different secondary school. When the popular girls at her school found out she was a maths geek, that was the final straw and she was singled out for seven years of misery.
So it was a revelation to Nora that she’d found people she called friends at Crafting and Cocktails and she was always pleased when it came around. Nora was focusing on her knitting because with her dad’s birthday fast approaching she really needed to get the jumper finished. Renee’s expert eyes would definitely help with the couple of issues she’d encountered. She’d somehow ended upwith the wrong number of stitches at the end of a row so daren’t go any further until it was resolved.
Dixie had set up the cocktails and after a brief welcome hug Nora was already taking a sip. ‘It’s like a slushy but for grown-ups. Very nice,’ said Nora, taking it to her seat.
‘It’s a Fuzzy Navel,’ said Dixie. ‘I had to freeze it for four hours.’
Jay and Renee arrived together and after a quick run-through of the cocktail ingredients they all sat down.
‘How’s the van?’ asked Nora. ‘I didn’t see it outside.’ Dixie usually drove as she had the cocktail ingredients and didn’t like walking along the road, clinking.
‘It’s not good for the environment to drive everywhere,’ said Dixie, avoiding eye contact.
‘Is this your vintage campervan?’ asked Jay. ‘Nora told me all about it and I think it’s a wonderful idea.’
‘Thank you,’ said Dixie. ‘It’s not running at the moment and fixing things under the bonnet wasn’t the sort of work I was planning to do on it. Mainly because I don’t know anything about vans or cars. Or bikes, to be honest.’ She looked thoroughly dejected.
‘The engine’s not under the bonnet,’ muttered Renee, but she received no response.
‘It’ll still be in warranty so you need to get the garage to sort it out,’ said Jay.
‘That’s the darnedest thing,’ said Dixie. ‘I called them but nobody is answering and I can’t take Elsie to them because she’s too poorly. I guess they’ll pick up eventually.’
