Ink and Ivy

by Sara Martin

  “Sorry I’m late,” Julian said, his deep voice pulling me from the story. “I got stuck in traffic.”

  His chest quickly rose and fell. He must have rushed to get there in time. “It’s okay.” I glanced at the departures board. “The flight isn’t boarding for a few more minutes.”

  Julian sat down beside me. “Hey, thanks for inviting me on this trip.”

  “It’s no big deal. I prefer to go with someone anyway. The lodge is beautiful. I think the scenery will really inspire you.”

  “I don’t want to get my hopes up, but I did bring supplies, just in case.” He lifted a black portfolio case.

  Our flight boarded shortly thereafter. As we traversed the windy tarmac, I wrapped my cardigan tighter around me.

  Aboard the plane, Julian took my bag. “Let me help you with that.” He put it in the overhead locker.

  Although it had been a short time ago since I had last flown, I still felt nervous. I gripped the armrests tightly as the plane sped down the runway.

  “Are you all right?” Julian asked.

  “Yes,” I squeaked.

  When we were fully up in the air, I felt much more comfortable. Julian looked completely at ease, quietly reading a book. I supposed, with all the travel he’d done, he was used to it.

  We hit a large bump midway through the flight. I yelped and clung to Julian’s arm. Realising what I had done, I quickly let go. Julian smirked at me, amused. When we finally landed, I exhaled with relief.

  My grandparents met us in the arrivals area. Grandma wore a floral dress, and Grandpa was wearing pants held up by suspenders, spectacles and a beret. They looked so sweet. They also looked much older than I remembered. It had been a few years after all. I rushed over to them. Julian lagged behind me.

  “Ivy!” Grandma welcomed me with a warm embrace. She smelled like powder. “Look at you. My, how you’ve grown. And this handsome young fellow must be Julian.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Julian kissed Grandma on the cheek and shook Grandpa’s hand.

  “How was the flight?” Grandpa asked as we made our way to the car.

  “It was fine,” I said.

  “You were nervous,” Julian chided.

  “I wasn’t.”

  “So, you grabbed hold of my arm for no reason?”

  “No reason in particular.”

  “Aren’t you two just adorable, quibbling like a married couple,” Grandma said with a laugh.

  We immediately ceased our argument, my face red.

  The lodge was located forty minutes out from the airport. We drove several kilometres on winding country roads and hills. Eventually, we came to a signpost which read Landsend Lodge, with an arrow pointing up a steep road. We turned up the road and into the thick trees. After a few minutes, the trees cleared and we came to a black iron gate across the driveway that was closed.

  Grandpa jumped out and typed in a passcode. The gate swung open, and we went up the drive. Julian and I gaped as the incredible grounds came into view. The beautiful gardens, tennis courts and pool made us too awestruck to speak. The main building loomed ahead, stately and classic.

  “Here we are.” Grandpa pulled up outside.

  “This is amazing,” I said, getting out of the car. “It’s so different than the last time I came here.”

  “Impressed?”

  “Very.”

  Grandma led the way to the entrance. “Come on in. Afternoon tea is waiting. Let’s have a bite to eat and something to drink. Then, we’ll give you the grand tour.”

  “Sounds great.” I followed my grandparents into the building.

  We entered a large reception room before being directed down a long, wide corridor, and finally into a small parlour. An assortment of baked goods had been laid out on the table. Grandma brought in a fresh pot of tea.

  “Looks delicious,” I said. “You didn’t need to go to so much trouble.”

  “Oh, it’s no trouble at all, my dear,” Grandma said.

  I buttered a freshly-baked scone. “The lodge is so beautiful. Did you have a lot of work done?”

  “We’ve had the house extended and refurbished. We’ve been so successful these last few years that expansion has been necessary,” Grandpa said.

  “I’m so happy for you.”

  “It’s hard to believe this started out as a simple bed and breakfast. It has evolved a lot since then.”

  “Is there anyone staying here at the moment?”

  “It’s relatively quiet. But, yes, we have two couples staying.”

  When we had finished afternoon tea, my grandparents took us on a tour around the building.

  “This is the indoor pool and relaxation area,” Grandma said, showing us to a large, bright room with an immaculate, heated swimming pool. Windows looked out into the surrounding lush greenery.

  I felt calm and relaxed simply upon entering the room. I couldn’t wait to go for a swim and then relax in the spa pool. After a long period of marvelling at the pool, my grandparents ushered us away to see the restaurant. The small and intimate room housed just a few tables. Doors opened out onto a courtyard surrounded by gardens.

  The next room of interest was the library. The floor-to-ceiling bookcases were well-stocked with fiction and non-fiction titles. A large fireplace dominated the centre of the back wall, and comfy armchairs surrounded a coffee table on a Persian rug.

  “This is Heaven,” I remarked.

  Grandpa chuckled. “This room was my little project. I’m glad you like it.”

  We left the library and arrived where the hallway forked into two passages.

  “The door on the right leads to our private wing, where your grandma and I live,” Grandpa said. “To the left is the guest wing.”

  We walked down the guest wing. “Let’s see your rooms,” Grandma said, excitedly.

  We stopped outside a door.

  “Ivy, this is your room.” Grandma opened the door to a large room with cream walls, a king-sized bed and a desk. The window had a gorgeous view of the lodge’s grounds.

  “It’s perfect,” I said.

  “The bathroom is through here.” Grandma opened a door.

  The bathroom had a claw foot tub and a generous vanity stocked with fancy toiletries. The towels were large, white and fluffy.

  Next, Grandma showed us Julian’s room, which was opposite mine. It was similar, but he had a large drawing desk and a balcony on which a chair and easel were set up.

  “Ivy told me all about your art,” she explained. “I thought it would only be appropriate to have somewhere to work.”

  “Thanks. I’m sure I’ll make good use out of it,” Julian said.

  Grandma looked pleased. “Right, I’ll leave you two to it. Do go out and have a look around the grounds. Please meet us for dinner in the restaurant at six o’clock.”

  “Okay,” I said. “See you for dinner.”

  Grandma hugged us both. When she left, Julian and I went to our separate rooms to unpack. I neatly folded my clothes and placed them in the drawer. Next, I put my novels and notebook on the desk. I sat by the window and studied the view again. It took my breath away. The hillside, vast and green, flourished with forests and lakes.

  “I could live here,” I murmured to myself.

  When I had finished unpacking, I went to Julian’s room. He was putting his clothes away.

  “Can I come in?” I asked, standing in the doorway.

  “Yes.”

  I walked in and sat at the foot of the bed. “What do you think?”

  “Well, for some reason I was expecting something more…quaint. I had no idea this place would be so luxurious.”

  “It surprised me too.”

  “I hope I manage to get some drawing done.”

  “You’ll be inspired in no time.”

  Julian laughed. “If only…”

  “I’m going to go out and explore a bit. Do you want to come?”

  He nodded. “Let’s go.”

  We went outside to
thoroughly acquaint ourselves with the park-like surroundings. Beneath our shoes, the lush green grass was springy and moist with dew. Towering evergreens shaded our path through the grounds, and a pond lightly rippled in golden, late-afternoon sunlight. The scene before us looked like an impressionist painting.

  We walked slowly, taking every exquisite detail in, but not talking much. I didn’t feel the need to. It wasn’t awkward at all.

  When the wind picked up, I shivered, envying the thick jacket Julian wore. “I’m cold,” I complained.

  “Yeah, it’s chilly. The sun is starting to go down already.”

  “Can I wear your jacket?” I dared ask.

  “I’m cold too, you know.”

  “Pretty please?” I gave him my puppy-dog eyed stare.

  “Don’t give me that look.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because…” Julian sighed. He shrugged off his jacket and handed it to me. “Here.”

  Our hands brushed.

  I put the jacket on. “So warm,” I gushed.

  Julian sighed again.

  In the lodge’s restaurant, a colourful array of small dishes was laid before us. “Wow, that looks so good!” I said, my mouth watering.

  “Looks delicious,” Julian agreed.

  “Our chef, Angie, is incredibly talented. We’re so lucky to have her. All our guests are well-fed,” Grandma said.

  “Help yourselves,” Grandpa said, readying his knife and fork.

  We filled our plates, and I dug in greedily. We chatted as we ate.

  “How’s school my dear? Assignments going well?” Grandma asked.

  “Yes. I only have a couple left to complete. Then, the rest of the year will be revision for exams.”

  “You’re a hard worker,” Grandpa said. “I’m sure you’ll pass everything with flying colours.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Hill Law will be lucky to have you.”

  I coughed, choking a little on my food. Julian eyed me expectantly while biting his lip. “Actually, I’m not going to study law anymore,” I explained when I had recovered.

  “What happened? Did you change your mind?”

  I nodded. “I’ve decided to do the thing I want to do.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “I want to write. I’m going to do a creative writing programme.” I braced myself for their response.

  “That sounds simply wonderful,” Grandma said.

  I immediately relaxed. “Really? I’m glad you think so. My parents aren’t exactly thrilled. They think it’s a waste of time.”

  “Well, I think it’s fabulous. Life’s too short not to follow your dreams.”

  Grandpa nodded along. “We know that too well.”

  “You do?” I asked.

  “Do you know what we did before we ran the lodge?”

  “No. I don’t remember.”

  “We had corporate jobs. Mary was an admin at a large firm, and I was an accountant. We didn’t enjoy our jobs, but we kept our heads down until we eventually retired.”

  “And then you bought the lodge?”

  “Yes. We bought this property and turned it into a bed-and-breakfast. It had always been Mary’s dream.”

  “Our lives changed dramatically since we started running the lodge,” Grandma explained. “We’re happier than we’ve ever been. My only regret is we didn’t do it sooner. To think of all those wasted years… If you want to be a writer, then I say go for it. Don’t leave your dreams until you’re old.”

  Their words encouraged me. “Thanks. I’ll do the best I can.”

  “You know, it’s a funny coincidence you want to be a writer,” Grandpa said.

  “Why?”

  “After dinner, I want to show you something.”

  Julian returned to his room, and I followed Grandpa to the private wing.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, curiosity welling inside me.

  “To my study,” he said as we turned up a staircase.

  At the top, he opened a door into a dark room. He flicked on the light switch. The large room was furnished with bookcases and oil paintings. Two worn, brown leather chairs with tufted backs sat atop a faded rug. The room smelled of leather and old books.

  “I often spend my evenings here.” Grandpa turned on a lamp, illuminating the surface of a mahogany writing desk. Loose papers surrounded a clunky typewriter. Words half-filled a page in the typewriter.

  “Are you writing something?” I took a closer look.

  Grandpa nodded. He roughly gathered the papers into one stack.

  “What is it? A novel?”

  “No. My memoirs. It’s something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time. This year, I finally started working on it.”

  “So, you’re a writer too?”

  “I suppose I am.” Grandpa chuckled. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

  “It’s brilliant. Will you let me read it when you’re done?”

  “Of course. But you’ll have to let me read something of yours in return.”

  I laughed. “Okay, then. It’s a deal.”

  We were interrupted by a soft knock on the door. I turned my head. Grandma stood in the doorway, holding a thermos and two large mugs.

  “Coffee, anyone?”

  “Ah, thank you,” Grandpa said.

  She set the mugs down on the coffee table and poured the steaming hot liquid inside.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  She quietly disappeared again.

  “My dear wife brings me a coffee every evening to drink while I write,” Grandpa explained. He took a mug and sat down on an armchair. “Make yourself comfortable.”

  I sat down on the chair next to him, sinking into its buttery softness. I pulled a wool throw over my legs and cradled the warm ceramic mug in my hands.

  As Grandpa drank, he wore a distant expression on his face as if he were mulling something over. “You know, Ivy,” he said after a few more sips. “When you said you wanted to write, I wasn’t surprised at all.”

  “Why?” I asked, eyebrow raised.

  “As a little girl, you were always a storyteller.”

  “I was?”

  Grandpa nodded. “You used to read to me from the books you made. Do you remember? You would write these little stories and poems in handmade booklets. You even did your own illustrations. They were quite good for someone so young.”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “You had a creative spark in you. That’s for sure. Your parents probably didn’t nurture it, which is a shame. I’m glad the spark has returned.”

  “Me too.” I couldn’t help sighing. “I just wish my parents felt that way.”

  Grandpa ran a hand through his silver hair. “It’s an unfortunate situation to be in. I wish I could do something to help.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “It’s not okay. Ivy, I want you to know you have my full support. No matter what.”

  A warm tear escaped and slid down my cheek. I brushed it away before he could notice. “Thank you, Grandpa.” I walked to him and offered a hug.

  He enveloped me in his arms and patted me on the back. “Whatever you decide to pursue, your grandmother and I will be there for you.”

  “That means a lot to me.” More tears escaped, falling to his shoulder and seeping through the fabric.

  “There, there.”

  I breathed in deeply and pulled myself together before sitting back down and finishing my coffee.

  “Have you got any plans for tomorrow?” Grandpa asked.

  “I was thinking of maybe going for a hike if the weather is okay.”

  “That sounds like a good idea.”

  “I’m hoping the view from the mountain will inspire Julian to draw again. He’s suffering artist’s block.”

  “Oh, I see. Good thinking.”

  Despite the caffeine, tiredness caught up with me and I failed to stifle a yawn.

  Grandpa chuckled. “It’s been a long day. Why don’t you go to your
room and get some rest?”

  I nodded drowsily.

  “Goodnight, Ivy.”

  “Goodnight, Grandpa.”

  I left Grandpa in the softly lit room and descended the stairs. The lodge halls were quiet and still. When I arrived outside my room, I noticed the light on in Julian’s room.

  I wonder what he’s up to? I reached out to knock but stopped myself. He might be working, and I didn’t wish to disturb him.

  19

  I slipped on my best walking shoes and tied the shoelaces.

  Julian waited outside his room. “Are you ready?” he asked.

  “Yes. I think so.”

  Apart from the frost earlier in the morning and some lingering mist, it was a fine day for a hike.

  “Be careful out there,” Grandma warned before we set out. “There aren’t really any proper tracks out that way. You’ll need to follow your nose. Cell phone coverage is practically non-existent as well.”

  “Don’t worry. We’ll be careful.” Truth be told, I wasn’t great with directions. I trusted Julian would know what he was doing, though. He seemed confident about the hike.

  “Take these,” Grandma handed us each a lunchbox filled with goodies from the lodge kitchen.

  “Thanks!”

  We packed them in our backpacks.

  “Have a nice time!”

  “I’m sure we will. See you later.”

  I checked through the gear I had packed once again.

  “Are you all set?” Julian asked.

  “I think so.”

  “Let’s go, then.”

  We stepped out into the brisk air. The mountain loomed in the distance, shrouded in mist. It would be a long trek across the grounds just to get near it. I took a deep breath of fresh, moist air, and then strode onward with Julian at my side. We walked a shaded path under the evergreens, silent apart from the rustle of the breeze through the leaves and the tweeting of native birds. The ground was mostly flat, and we made fast progress.

  At the edge of the lodge grounds, a wire fence cut off our path. I couldn’t see a gate anywhere.

  “Can you climb over it?” Julian asked.

  “I think so.” I reached my leg over, but I wobbled.