Cecelia Ahern - If You Could See Me Now

“Much better,” Ivan whispered, feeling proud.

Elizabeth smiled and closed her eyes again, breathing slowly and deeply.

There was suddenly a knock at the door. “Can I come in?” Poppy sang.

Elizabeth’s eyes sprang open and she dropped the offending pencil from her hand, as though it were a dangerous weapon. “Yes,” she called out, sitting back in the chair, her shoulder briefly brushing past Ivan’s chest. Elizabeth looked around behind her, touched her shoulder lightly with her hand, and turned back to face Poppy, who was skipping into the room, eyes glistening with excitement.

“OK, so Becca just told me you’ve got another meeting with the love hotel people.” Her words skipped together as though she were singing a song.

Ivan sat down on the windowsill behind Elizabeth’s desk and stretched out his legs. They both folded their arms across their chests at the same time. Ivan smiled.

“Poppy, please do not call it the love hotel.” Elizabeth rubbed her eyes wearily. Ivan was disappointed. That gnirob voice was back.

“OK, so the ‘hotel’ then.” Poppy exaggerated the word. “I have some ideas. I’m thinking water beds in the shape of hearts, hot tubs, champagne flutes that rise from the bedside lockers.” She lowered her voice to an excited whisper. “I’m thinking the Romantic era meets Art Deco. Caspar David Friedrich meets Jean Dunand. It will be an explosion of rich reds, burgundy, and wines that make you feel like you’re being embraced in a velvet-lined womb. Candles everywhere. French boudoir meets—”

“Las Vegas,” Elizabeth finished drily.

Poppy snapped out of her trance and her face fell in disappointment.

“Poppy.” Elizabeth sighed. “We’ve been through this before. I really think you should stick to the profile for this one.”

“Ah.” She fell back as though she’d been shot in the chest. “But the profile is so boring. ”

“Hear! Hear!” Ivan stood and applauded. “Gnirob,” he said loudly into Elizabeth’s ear.

Elizabeth flinched and scratched at her ear. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Poppy, but unfortunately what you consider boring is how other people choose to decorate their homes. People want liveable, comfortable, and calming environments. People don’t want to return home after a hard day’s work to a house that shouts dramatic statements from every beam or colors that give them a headache. With work environments so full of stress, people just want their home environment to be manageable, relaxing, and peaceful.” A speech she delivered to all of her customers. “And this is a hotel, Poppy, we need to appeal to all kinds of people and not just the few, the very few in fact, that would like to reside in a velvet-lined womb,” she added drily.

“Well, I don’t know many people that haven’t once resided in velvet-lined wombs, do you? I don’t think it rules out anyone on this planet, at least.” She kept trying. “It might spark off some comforting memories for people.”

Elizabeth looked disgusted.

“Elizabeth.” Poppy groaned her name and dissolved dramatically into the chair in front of her. “There has to be something that you will let me put my stamp on. I just feel so constrained here, like my creative juices aren’t being allowed to flow and—oooh, that’s nice,” she said chirpily, leaning over to look at the page in front of Elizabeth. “Chocolate and lime are really gorgeous together. What made you of all people go for that?”

Ivan returned to Elizabeth’s side and crouched down beside her, studying her face. Elizabeth stared at the sketch before her as if seeing it for the first time. She frowned, but then her face softened. “I don’t know, actually, it just . . .” She closed her eyes briefly, breathed deeply, and remembered the feeling. “It just kind of ...floated into my head suddenly.”

Poppy smiled and nodded excitedly. “You see, now you understand how it is for me. I can’t suppress my creativity, you know? I know exactly what you mean. It’s such a natural, instinctive thing.” Her eyes glistened and her voice lowered to a whisper. “Like love. ”

“Hear! Hear!” Ivan repeated, watching Elizabeth, so close to her now his nose was almost touching her cheek, but this time it was a light whisper that blew Elizabeth’s loose hair softly around her ear.

Chapter Nine

“Poppy, did you call me?” Elizabeth called out from under the mound of carpet samples piled onto her desk later that day.

“No, again, ” came the dull, bored reply. “And please refrain from disturbing me, as I’m about to order two thousand pots of white magnolia paint for our future projects. May as well be organized and plan ahead for the next twenty years,” she muttered, then grumbled loudly enough for Elizabeth to hear. “Because it’s not as if we’re about to change our ideas anytime soon.”

“Oh, OK.” Elizabeth smiled, giving in. “You can order another color in too.”

Poppy almost fell off her chair with excitement.

“Order a few hundred pots of beige as well, while you’re at it. Barley, it’s called.” “Ha ha,” Poppy said drily. Ivan raised his eyebrows at Elizabeth. “Elizabeth, Elizabeth,” he sang,

“did you just make a funny? I think you did.” He stared directly at her, elbows on the desk. He sighed, blowing the loose strands of her hair as he did so.

Elizabeth froze, moved her eye sockets from left to right suspiciously, and then continued working. “Oh, see how she treats me?” Ivan said dramatically, holding his hand to his forehead and pretending to faint onto a black leather chaise longue in the corner of the room. “It’s like I’m not even here,” he declared. He put his feet up and stared at the ceiling. “Forget about being at a principal’s office, this is like being at a shrink’s.” He stared at the cracks in the ceiling. “You see, doc, it all started when Elizabeth kept ignoring me,” he said loudly into the room. “It just made me feel so unloved, so alone, so very, very alone. It’s like I don’t exist. Like I’m nothing, ” he exaggerated. “My life is a mess.” He pretended to cry. “It’s all Elizabeth’s fault.” He stopped and watched her for a while, matching carpets with fabrics and paint charts, and when he spoke again, his voice became soft. “But it is her fault that she can’t see me because she’s just too afraid to believe. Isn’t that right, Elizabeth?”

“What?” Elizabeth shouted again.

“What do you mean, what?” shouted an irritated Poppy back. “I didn’t say anything!”

“You called me.”

“No, I didn’t, you’re hearing voices again and please stop humming that bloody song!” Poppy shrieked.

“What song?” Elizabeth frowned.

“Whatever that thing is that you’ve been humming all morning. It’s driving me insane. ”

“Thank you very much!” Ivan announced, standing up and taking a dramatic bow before plonking his body back down onto the chaise longue. “I invented that song. Andrew Lloyd Webber, eat your heart out.”

Elizabeth continued working. She started humming again, then immediately stopped herself.

“You see, Poppy,” Ivan called into the other room, “I think Elizabeth can hear me.” He crossed his hands across his chest and twiddled his thumbs. “I think she can hear me very well. Isn’t that right, Elizabeth?”

“Christ almighty.” Elizabeth dropped the samples onto her desk. “Becca, is that you saying my name?”