13 Double Disaster - My Sister the Vampire (8 page)

Whew. We finally made it here!
Olivia let out a sigh of relief as she stepped on to a crowded London street with Jackson by her side. It had taken serious convincing to
talk her parents into letting her wander the streets of London in disguise with Jackson, and she wasn’t sure which they were more worried about: her physical safety in the big foreign city,
or her emotions from spending so much time with her famous ex-boyfriend!

They had finally made it out of the hotel, though, with Olivia’s long brown hair pinned up beneath a floppy hat, her blue eyes hidden behind heart-shaped sunglasses. She had her cell phone
tucked safely in the pocket of a freshly-bought pair of baggy, shapeless jeans from a store just down the road.

Her parents had finally relented when she’d convinced them that the trip was ‘essential’ research for the movie – but even then, they’d only agreed on the condition
that she call them every fifteen minutes and be back at eight-thirty p.m. She’d never had such an early curfew back home!

They were a world away from Franklin Grove, though, as they walked into the vibrant, colourful Borough Market. Stalls rose up on every side, selling everything from fruits and vegetables to
French patés, goggle-eyed fish and Indian curries. The voices of the traders echoed all around the market, calling out to passers-by.

They might as well have been speaking a foreign language, for all that Olivia could understand!

‘Watch out, mate, ya nearly knocked me off me plates!’

‘I’m not trying to rob ya of your bees . . .’

‘Get on the dog to yer trouble. She’ll sort ya right out!’

‘Yer bees are safe with me!’

Olivia’s head whirled. She whispered to Jackson: ‘Do people in London actually own so many bees that they have to worry about people
stealing
them? And, do they actually have
bees
on
them – like, in their coat pockets, or something? Won’t they get stung?’

Jackson grinned underneath the shade of his baseball cap. ‘Think about it. “Bees and honey” . . . rhymes
with
. . .?’

‘Money!’ Olivia gasped. ‘That makes so much more sense.’

‘Yup. Just like
dog
means
phone
,’ Jackson explained. ‘Because “phone” rhymes with “dog and bone”. It’s called Cockney rhyming
slang.’

Olivia looked around the market with fresh eyes. ‘I don’t know how anyone can have a normal conversation in this city!’

‘Now you know why I’ve been having trouble.’ Jackson smiled. ‘I was hoping to learn an accent, not a whole second language!’

Olivia couldn’t help but laugh – until she felt his hand take hers. For a moment she stopped breathing, even as her fingers instinctively returned the pressure that came from his.
The feeling of their hands together was so familiar and right, it was almost painful.

It doesn’t mean anything
, she told herself.
He’s
just trying to make it easier to guide me through this
crowd.
With so many people shoving for position,
holding hands was the only way Jackson could make sure they didn’t lose each other in the crush.

It still feels romantic, though
, she admitted to herself.

‘Oh no,’ Jackson groaned. ‘They’re here!’

Olivia looked around, but she didn’t recognise anyone in the sea of faces. ‘Who? Where?’

‘Hurry!’ Jackson pulled her with him through the crowd and down a narrow side street.

As the sounds of the noisy market receded, Olivia heard a dull, two-tone alarm sound going off nearby. Without stopping, Jackson dug his phone out of his pocket. It was flashing red.

‘We’ve been spotted,’ Jackson said. His face was grim. ‘It’s one of those JacksonWatch websites.’

‘Oh no.’ Olivia grimaced. Those sites weren’t just innocent fanpages – they tracked Jackson’s every move. ‘I thought you had Amy feeding them false
information,’ she said.

Jackson’s manager, Amy Teller, was fiercely protective of her client, and usually ran interference so that he was only looking over his shoulder twenty-two hours a day.

‘Sometimes, they still get it right.’ Jackson shrugged. ‘Amy had my phone company hook up my cell, though, so I get alerted any time one of the sites has good info. I guess
today they do.’

Instinctively, Olivia tightened her grip on his hand. ‘What now? Should we turn back and try to disappear into the crowd at the market?’

Jackson looked back and sighed. ‘Too late.’

When Olivia followed his gaze, she saw a cluster of teenage girls gathered at the top of the side street. All of them had their smartphones out, and they were whispering to each other as they
looked around with narrow-eyed, predatory gazes.

They’re like vultures
, Olivia thought,
hunting for
fresh meat!
She knew that she should have been feeling tension and dread, but she wasn’t. She had to bite back
a nervous giggle when she realised – here she was, in a romantic foreign city, in her very own caper. It was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her . . .

. . .
And considering that my family is vampire royalty,
she thought,
that is saying something!

One of the girls let out a yelp as a tanned man wearing sunglasses walked past them. ‘Isn’t that the singer who’s going out with that soap star?’

Jackson squeezed Olivia’s hand. When she looked at him, she could see a rueful smile on his face – it may have been a weird, scary situation, but he looked like he was seeing the
funny side. ‘Come on,’ he said, ‘while they’re distracted.’

Olivia ran with him down the side street, struggling to keep up. He pulled her around a corner . . . and then stopped dead.

They’d come to an embankment overlooking the Thames. The river stretched before them, the sun was setting over London, and it would have looked dreamily romantic . . . if only it
hadn’t been for the swell of a scream rising behind them.

They’d been spotted.

Olivia glanced back and echoed Jackson’s groan. A new group of teenage girls was thundering towards them.

‘Jackson!’

‘It’s really him!’

‘Wait for meeeee!’

Still looking over her shoulder, Olivia nearly fell when Jackson yanked her forwards, dragging her to one side and then through a narrow doorway.

‘I’ve got an idea! Keep a lookout,’ he hissed. ‘Tell me if any of them see us here.’

Olivia crossed her arms like a bouncer and kept watch through the doorway. Behind her, she could hear Jackson in a whispered conversation with someone. ‘. . . if you can just help us . .
.’ she heard, along with, ‘it’s her
favourite
play . . .’ The girls were at the far end of the street, peering down into the passing boats as if they thought Jackson
might have jumped into one of them.

Olivia felt Jackson’s hand close firmly on to her arm as she was pulled backwards through another doorway, into an open-aired space crammed full of people. Men and women stood pressed
together all around, but no one moved. No one spoke. All their eyes were fixed on something behind Olivia’s back.

Then a voice spoke, uttering words Olivia knew very well:

‘Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,

‘Having some business, do entreat her eyes . . .’

Slowly, Olivia turned to face the stage.

There was a patch of purple-blue above their heads – a circular gap in the roof of the theatre invited the evening sky in. Tiers of seats rose in a semicircle around a stage, where actors
in Elizabethan dress performed a scene she knew only too well: the famous ‘balcony scene’, where Romeo first courts Juliet.

Olivia knew exactly where they were, now. It had to be the famous, open-air Globe Theatre, where Shakespeare himself had performed. The conversation she’d half-overheard must have been
Jackson talking to a doorman, bartering for late entrance to the show – a play that they had acted in together at school . . .

. . . where they had shared their first kiss.

I can’t be here
, Olivia thought, as Romeo and Juliet fell in love on stage.
I can’t pretend we’re just friends while we watch this!

But there was no way out. The standing-room audience was pressed tightly around her. And even if she got out, Jackson’s fans were stalking the streets outside the theatre.

Jackson took her hand as the balcony scene continued. His voice echoed Romeo’s words, whispering them under his breath:

‘
O, that I were a glove upon that hand

‘That I might touch that cheek!’

Olivia swallowed hard, fighting down emotion as his hand pressed against hers. Yes, she and Jackson had performed together in this play, but could he really have
known
that this was her
favourite piece of Shakespeare’s writing? Or was that an excuse to get them in?
If he does
, she thought
, he knows me better than I realised.

Heads were turning, as other audience members shot Jackson annoyed looks because he was ‘talking’. Jackson didn’t even seem to see the other audience members, though. His face
was rapt with emotion as he gazed at the stage . . . and held Olivia’s hand.

When it was time for Juliet’s monologue, Olivia found herself torn.

Should I give him back the lines?

She still knew the play by heart. How could she forget? On the other hand, she didn’t want to annoy any more theatre-goers. She nibbled on her lip, hesitating.

Then Jackson turned to look directly at her as he whispered along with another line:

‘I know not how to tell thee who I am . . .’

Olivia froze, caught by the emotion in his eyes.

Was he only caught up by the play? Or did those words have any extra meaning for him?

If she hadn’t been in the middle of a theatre audience that was gripped in absolute, respectful silence, Olivia could have screamed!

I don’t know what to do!

If this strange day had taught her anything, it was that she had been lying to herself about her feelings. She had never really fallen out of love with Jackson. The realisation hit her like a
thunderbolt.
Maybe I never will
.

But she still lived in Franklin Grove. He still travelled from movie set to movie set. None of the issues that had split them apart had changed.

They might still seem perfect for each other . . . but could it ever
really
work?

A
s soon as Ivy arrived at the park in Lincoln Vale, she saw Brendan waiting for her, his hands clasped tightly.

‘What’s wrong?’ She hurried across the grass, fighting panic. Ever since she’d got his text message after school, she’d been worried – and judging by the
nervous look on her boyfriend’s face, she had been right to feel that way.

As he stood at the edge of the park, Brendan’s face looked even more pale than normal, and his expression was tense as he pointed over his shoulder. ‘See for yourself,’ he
said.

Frowning, Ivy followed the direction of his finger – and blinked.

‘Wait a minute,’ she said. ‘Is that Sophia?’

Of all the people she’d never expected to see hanging out in a Lincoln Vale park, Sophia was probably top of the list! Ivy’s best friend was lounging just beside the purpose-built
skatepark with her head tipped back, wearing sunglasses and . . .

Ivy’s jaw dropped open. ‘Is she
tanning
?’ Everyone knew how bad the sun was for vampires!

Brendan turned up his hands in a
Who knows?
gesture. ‘Or she’s pretending to.’

‘Well . . .’ Ivy gulped. ‘That’s
one
way to make sure no one realises you’re a vampire. But we need to figure out what’s going on!’

She started towards the crowded skatepark.
Time for an extraction operation, stat!
But as she set off towards her friend, students began crowding around her.

‘Ivy?’

‘Oh, wow, it’s Ivy!’

Oh no
, she thought.
The popularity’s kicking in
again.
How did celebrities deal with this All. The. Time? It was exhausting – and
inconvenient
.

Near-goths and bunnies came streaming across the park to join her.

‘I’ve been wanting so badly to meet you!’

‘You’re
Amelia’s
friend, aren’t you?’

‘No!’ Ivy said. She had to step back as two intense-looking goths descended on her, looking as hungry as if she were an afternoon snack. ‘Not really,’ she said, trying to
walk past them. ‘I just met Amelia today.’

‘But I saw you
talking
to her.’ One of the goths, whose hair was a bright magenta, sighed wistfully as she blocked Ivy’s escape route. ‘Amelia actually
spoke
to you! And you got to speak back!’

‘Uh . . .’ Ivy blinked. ‘Yeah, so?’

The goth-girls let out a moan of envy. ‘You are
so cool
!’ Over her shoulder, Ivy could just glimpse Sophia – but her friend may as well have been on the opposite side of
a huge ravine. How was she ever going to get to her?

Argh!
Ivy looked for an escape route, but there was no way out – and more ninth-graders were flocking towards her from all around the park.
I never realised being popular was so
hard!
These wannabe groupies were sticking to her like the wedding confetti she was still finding in her hair!