Goldenhorse! “Maybe Tomorrow”! I love girls with magical voices singing pop hits, but I am actually not as big a fan of this song as I could be, largely because everywhere you went in 2003 THIS SONG WAS THERE. I don’t even listen to radio, and I couldn’t get away from it.
But there is no better song for the epilogue than this:
If you think I am going to give you a cookie from the epilogue, you don’t know me at all. Instead, let us have some Iris, because Iris is a delight.
MINOR SPOILERS AHEAD
Iris walked straight up to Mark until she was close enough to touch him, her head reaching neatly to just under his collarbone. They looked like something out of a fairy tale; his flaming hair set against her glossy lengths of black. He put his hand on her shoulder and she shook her head hard, then gasped up at him.
“Shhh.” His eyes searched the mists. I clung to my tree trunk. “Ellie?”
“What did you do?” Iris demanded, and kicked him in the shin.
Mark jumped back, yelping out a curse, and Iris yelped too, grabbing at her stockinged foot. She overbalanced hard into the rim of a fountain with a thump that echoed dully, and then lurched upright again, landing a wild punch on his shoulder. He evaded the next one, but he was no longer looking for me.
“What are you going to do?” Iris demanded, limping towards him again. She swung her handbag at him and he danced out of her clumsy, if enthusiastic, reach. “Are you going to bewitch her?”
“I can’t! I just want to explain. Ellie, please! It’s safe, I promise!”
“I’m right here,” I called, and waded through the fog.
He favoured me with a tight smile. “Good. We were just about to start pulling hair.”
I’d back Iris in that fight, Mark, you adorable streak of twiggy uselessness.