Cecelia Ahern - If You Could See Me Now

“Is Maeve still bossing you around, Calendula?”

Calendula nodded and looked sad. “She’s still telling me what to do all the time and when she breaks things and her parents get mad, she blames it on me.”

Olivia, an old-looking best friend who was rocking in her chair while knitting, tutted loudly.

“You know why Maeve is doing that don’t you, Calendula?” Opal said softly.

Calendula nodded. “I know that me being around provides her with the opportunity to be in charge and she is mirroring the behavior of her parents. I understand why she is doing it and the importance of her doing it, but that kind of treatment day in, day out becomes a little disheartening at times.”

Everybody nodded in agreement; we had all been in her shoes at some stage. Most young children liked to boss us around, as it was their only chance to do it without getting into trouble.

“Well, you know she won’t be doing it for very much longer, Calendula,” Opal said encouragingly and when Calendula nodded, her curls bounced up and down. “Bobby.” Opal turned to face a little boy sitting on a skateboard with his cap turned backward. He had been rolling back and forth while listening to the conversation. On hearing his name, he stopped rolling.

“You must stop playing computer games with little Anthony. You know why, don’t you?”

The little boy with the face of an angel nodded and when he spoke, his voice sounded much older than his apparent six years. “Well, because Anthony is only three, he needs to play with toys that allow him to take control, that are flexible, and that do more than one thing. Too many of the other toys will stunt his early development.”

“What kind of things do you think you should be playing with?” Opal asked.

“Well, I’m going to concentrate on playing with, well, nothing actually, so we can do role-playing, or else use boxes, cooking utensils, or empty toilet-paper rolls.”

We all laughed at the last one. Toilet-paper rolls are my absolute favorite, you can do so many things with them.

“Very good, Bobby, just try to keep it in mind when Anthony tries to get you to play on the computer again. Like Tommy does.” She trailed off, looking around. “Actually, where is Tommy?”

“Sorry I’m late,” a loud voice called from the door. Tommy charged in with his shoulders back and arms swinging, like a man fifty years older than he. There was muck all over his face, grass stains all down his knees and shins, cuts, scabs, and mud on his elbows. He dived onto his beanbag, making a crashing noise with his mouth.

Opal laughed. “Welcome, Tommy. Busy, were you?”

“Yeah,” Tommy replied cockily. “Me and Johnno were down in the park digging up grubs.” He wiped his snotty nose across his bare arm.

“Uugh.” Calendula wrinkled her nose in disgust and moved her chair closer to Ivan.

“All right, princess.” Tommy winked over at Calendula, resting his feet on the table in front him. It had been laid out with fizzy drinks and chocolate biscuits.

Calendula looked away from him with wide eyes and concentrated on Opal.

“So, John is the same as usual,” Opal stated with amusement.

“Yep, still sees me,” he replied, as though that were some kind of victory. “He’s got a problem with bullies at the moment, Opal, and as he’s been intimidated into secrecy, he won’t tell his parents.” He shook his head sadly. “He’s afraid they’ll criticize him or intervene, which will make it worse, and he’s also ashamed that he allowed it to happen. All the typical emotions that go with bullying.” He popped a sweet into his mouth.

“So, what are you doing about it?” Opal asked with concern.

“Unfortunately, what was happening before I came along is that John was experiencing chronic intimidation, he developed a pattern of compliance with the unfair demands of those he perceived as stronger, and he was beginning to identify with the bully and become one himself. But I wouldn’t let him push me around,” Tommy said toughly. “We’ve been working on his posture, voice, and eye contact, as you know these communicate a lot about whether you’re vulnerable. I’m teaching him to be vigilant for suspicious individuals and every day we run over a list of possible attributes.” He sat back and rested his arms behind his head. “We’re working on him developing a mature sense of justice.”

“And you’ve been digging for grubs,” Opal added with a smile.

“There’s always time for grub-digging, isn’t there, Ivan?” Tommy winked.

“Jamie-Lynn.” Opal turned to a little girl in denim dungarees and dirty runners. Her hair was cut short and she balanced her behind on a football. “How’s little Samantha getting along? I hope you’re both not still digging up her mother’s flower garden.”

Jamie-Lynn was a tomboy and kept getting her friends into trouble, whereas Calendula mostly went to tea parties in pretty dresses and played with Barbie and My Little Pony. Jamie-Lynn opened her mouth and began blabbering away in a mystery language.

Opal raised her eyebrows. “So I see you and Samantha are still speaking your own language.”

Jamie-Lynn nodded.

“OK, but be careful. It’s not a good idea to keep speaking like that for much longer.”

“Don’t worry, I know Samantha is learning to talk in sentences and develop her memory, so I won’t keep it up,” Jamie-Lynn said, returning to normal language. Her voice saddened. “Samantha didn’t see me this morning when she woke up. But then she did again at lunchtime today.”

Everyone felt sad for Jamie-Lynn and gave her our condolences because we all knew how that felt. It was the beginning of the end.

“Olivia, how’s Mrs. Cromwell?” Opal’s voice was gentler.

Olivia stopped knitting and rocking and shook her head sadly. “Not long for her to go now. We had a great chat last night about a day trip she had with her family seventy years ago to Sandymount beach. That put her in a great mood. But as soon as she told her family this morning that she’d been talking to me about it, they all left. They think she’s talking about her great-aunt Olivia that died forty years ago and are convinced she’s going mad. Anyway, I’ll stay with her till the end. Like I said, there isn’t long for her to go and the family have only visited twice in the past month. She’s not hanging on for anyone.”

Olivia always made friends in hospitals, hospices, and homes for the elderly. She was good at that kind of thing, helping people reminisce till the early hours of the morning. Like children, the elderly had the ability to believe and hope, especially when they were really sick and weren’t going to be with us much longer. I suppose it’s times like that people take the time to really think about life, what they were here for and all its possibilities. They drop their defenses and allow themselves to open up to the new experiences of what’s happening to them and their bodies. It was the people in the in-between ages (usually like Elizabeth) that had the blinders on.

“Thanks, Olivia.” Opal smiled and then she turned to me. “So, Ivan, how’s it all going in Fuchsia Lane? What’s the big emergency? Little Luke seems to be doing OK.”

I made myself comfortable on the beanbag. “Yeah, he is OK. There are a few things we need to work on, like how he feels about his family setup, but nothing earth-shattering.”

“Good.” Opal looked pleased.

“But that’s not what the problem is.” I looked around the circle at everyone. “His aunt, who adopted him, is thirty - four and sometimes she can feel my presence .”

Everyone gasped and looked around at one another in horror. I knew they’d react like that.