Cecelia Ahern - The Book of Tomorrow

I was the first person downstairs at six forty-five for the first time since I’d moved here. I sat in the living room with a cup of tea and tried to force myself to concentrate on the book about the invisible girl that Fiona had given me. I was averaging about a paragraph a day but I must have got lost in the story without noticing because I didn’t see or hear the postman approach the house, but I heard the envelopes land on the mat in the front hall. Always happy to do something different in the house where everything went like clockwork, I went to the hall to retrieve them. They were literally just beyond my grasp when a hand came in and stole them away from me, like a vulture had flown down and scooped up its prey.

‘No need for you to do that, Tamara,’ Rosaleen said brightly, shoving the envelopes into the front pocket of her apron.

‘I don’t mind. I was only picking them up, Rosaleen. I wasn’t going to read them.’

‘Of course you weren’t,’ she said as though the thought had never crossed her mind. ‘You just relax and enjoy yourself,’ she smiled, and rubbed my shoulder.

‘Thanks,’ I smiled. ‘You know, you should let somebody do something for you for once.’ I followed her to the kitchen.

‘I like doing it,’ she said, getting to work on the breakfast. ‘Besides, Arthur is good at a lot of things but he’d be boiling an egg till September if you let him at it,’ she chuckled.

‘Speaking of September, what’s going to happen?’ I asked finally. ‘The plan was for us to stay for the summer. It’s July now, and well, nobody’s talked about September.’

‘Yes, and it’s almost your birthday.’ Her eyes lit up. ‘And we need to talk about what you’d like to do for that. Have a party? Go to stay with some friends in Dublin?’

‘Actually, I might like a few friends to come stay with me here,’ I said. ‘I’d like them to see where I live now, see what I do everyday.’

Rosaleen looked a little shell-shocked by that. ‘Here? Oh…’

‘It was only a thought,’ I back-tracked quickly. ‘It’s so far for Laura and Zoey to come, and it would probably be too much hassle for you…’

I waited for her to jump in and reassure me, but she didn’t.

‘Anyway, I’d rather talk about my future than about my birthday.’ I changed the subject. ‘If we’re still here in September, which is looking like what’s going to happen, how am I going to get to St Mary’s from here? There aren’t any buses, or at least none that pass by here. I doubt Arthur would want to drive me to and from school every day…’ I waited for her to tell me that’s exactly what was going to happen. But again, she didn’t. She started getting breakfast ready, taking out the pots and pans that usually served as my wake-up call.

‘Well, that’s something you’ll have to discuss with your mother, I suppose. I can’t tell you the answers.’

‘But, Rosaleen, how am I supposed to discuss anything with Mum?’

‘What do you mean?’ Clatter, clatter, bang, crash. All systems go in the kitchen.

‘You know what I mean.’ I jumped up and stood beside her, but she still wouldn’t look at me. ‘She doesn’t talk. She’s completely catatonic. I don’t get why you refuse to admit this.’

‘She’s not catatonic, Tamara.’ She finally stopped and looked at me. ‘She’s just…sad. We need to give her space and time and let her figure it all out herself. Now, will you be a good girl and fetch me the eggs from the fridge and I’ll show you how to do a nice big omelette this morning,’ she smiled. ‘How about I put a few peppers in it for you?’

‘Peppers,’ I said perkily and her face lit up. ‘Lovely juicy problem-solving peppers,’ I said happily, then dragged my feet to the fridge to fetch them, as her face fell. I took out a green and a red one. ‘Oh, look, hello, Mr Green Pepper. How’s about you solve the problem for me? Where am I going to go to school in September?’ I held it to my ear and listened. ‘Oh, no, it mustn’t be working.’ I shook it. ‘Maybe I’ll try the red one. Hello, Mr Red Pepper. Rosaleen seems to think you can solve the problem about my life. What do you think is going to happen? Shall we send Mum to a madhouse or should we leave her upstairs for ever?’ I listened again. ‘No. Nothing.’ I tossed the peppers down on the counter. ‘Looks like the peppers can’t help us out today. Maybe we should try some onions,’ I said, faking excitement. ‘Or grated cheese!’

‘Tamara,’ I heard Arthur say, warning in his tone, and I stopped. I trudged out and sulked in the living room. Even though we’re not allowed to eat in the living room, Rosaleen brought the omelette in to me. A decent kind person would have apologised, instead, I asked for salt.

At ten o’clock I watched Rosaleen scurry out of the house with the tray loaded with enough food to feed an entire family, and among all of my worries about the day, one of them was that her mother would reveal my visit to her. Just because I hadn’t written about it, it didn’t mean it couldn’t happen. At ten fifteen, Dr Gedad’s car pulled up outside the house. I took a deep breath and opened the door.

‘You must be Tamara,’ he beamed, while walking up the path. He immediately made me smile. He was tall, slender, fit-looking. His hair was greying and was tight on his head. He had high cheekbones and soft eyes, which gave him a slightly feminine look, but yet he was masculine and handsome. I welcomed him in and shook his hand.

‘Well good morning to you. Isn’t it a great summer we’re having.’ He spoke from the back of his throat, as though he’d a piece of bread stuck there, slightly muffled, but in a lovely singsong way. His Madagascan accent was mixed with some words that were spoken with a pure Irish blÁs . It was a lovely, peculiar sound. I liked that I felt somebody from outside of here was going to freshen things up, shake things up, fix them.

‘Can I take your briefcase?’ I was nervous, jittery, unsure what to do. I looked anxiously at the door.

‘No, thank you, Tamara. I’ll need this with me,’ he smiled.

‘Oh yes. Of course.’

‘I believe I’m here to see your mother?’

‘Yes, she’s upstairs. I’ll show you the way.’

‘Thank you. Tamara. I’m very sorry to hear about your father. Weseley shared the sad news with me. It must be a very difficult time for you both.’

‘Yes, thank you,’ I smiled, and tried to swallow that lump that always arrived whenever anybody mentioned Dad.

I made to lead Dr Gedad upstairs and I was almost beginning to believe that I was going to get away with it, was hopeful about getting Mum back, but was devastated about losing Weseley, when the front door opened. Rosaleen stepped into the hall with a tin-foil-covered plate in her hands. She looked at Dr Gedad as though he was the grim reaper. Her face went white.

‘Good morning,’ Dr Gedad said pleasantly.

‘Who…?’ She looked from the strange man in her hall to me, then back to the man again. Her eyes narrowed. ‘You’re the new doctor.’

‘I am indeed,’ he said cheerfully, going back down the stairs.

No! I shouted at him in my head.

‘It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs-’

‘Rosaleen,’ she said quickly, glancing at me then back to him. ‘Rosaleen will do fine. Well, welcome to the town.’

They shook hands.

‘Thank you very much. And I must thank you and your husband for giving young Weseley a job here.’

Rosaleen glanced at me, the discomfort all over face. ‘Well, yes, he’s a great help,’ she brushed him off. ‘Doctor,’ she said looking confused, ‘what’s…why…Tamara, are you sick?’

‘No, I’m fine, thank you, Rosaleen. If you’ll just follow me, Dr Gedad,’ I said quickly, going upstairs.