Cecelia Ahern - If You Could See Me Now

“Mind? Of course we mind. We are in ze middle of a very serious murdare investigay-c-on and you are vot?” He looked around; his eyes fell upon the crumpled balls of paper by the bin. He picked one up and studied it with his magnifying glass. “You are making snowballs as far as I can see?”

Elizabeth made a face at him and Luke giggled.

“We must interrogate you. Have you any harsh lights we can shine in your face?” Ivan looked around the room and withdrew the question when he caught the look on Elizabeth’s face. “Very well, Madame.”

“Who has been murdered?” Elizabeth asked.

“Ah, just as I suspected, Monsieur Rotalsnart.” They paced the floor in opposite directions with the magnifying glasses still over their eyes. “She pretends to not know so we don’t suspect her. Clever.”

“Do you think she did it?” Luke asked.

“We shall see. Madame, a worm was found squished to death earlier today on the path leading from your conservatory to the clothesline. His devastated family tell us he left home when the rain had stopped in order to cross the path to the other side of the garden. His reasons for wanting to go there are not known, but it’s what worms do.”

Luke and Elizabeth looked at each other and laughed.

“The rain stopped at six thirty p.m., which is when the worm left his

home to cross the path. Could you tell me your whereabouts, Madame?” “Am I a suspect?” Elizabeth laughed. “At zis stage of the investi-gay-c-on, everyone is a suspect.” “Well, I returned from work at six fifteen p.m. and put dinner on, then I

went to the utility room and emptied the damp clothes from the washing machine into the basket.”

“Then what did you do?” Ivan thrust the magnifying glass in her face and moved it around, studying her. “I am checking for clues,” he whispered to Luke.

Elizabeth laughed. “After that I waited for the rain to stop and then I

hung the washing on the line.” Ivan gasped dramatically. “Monsieur Rotalsnart, did you hear that?” Luke’s giggling revealed his gums, from where yet another tooth had

fallen. “Well then this means you are the murder-air!” “The murderer,” Luke translated. They both turned to her with their magnifying glasses over their eyes. Ivan spoke. “As you tried to keep your birthday of next week a secret

from me, your punishment will be to have a party in the back jardin in the

memory of the recently deceased Monsieur Wriggles, the worm.” Elizabeth groaned. “No way.” “I know, Elizabeth.” He replaced his French accent with an upper

class British accent. “Having to socialize with the village folk is so terribly

frightful.” “What folk?” Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, just a few people we invited.” Ivan shrugged. “Luke posted the

invites this morning, isn’t he great?” He nodded to a proud and beaming Luke. “Next week you will be the host of a garden party. People you don’t know very well will be stomping through your home, possibly making it dirty. Think you can handle that?”

Chapter Thirty-Four

Elizabeth sat cross-legged on the white sheet covering the dusty cement floor of the building site, with her eyes closed.

“So this is where you disappear to every day,” the soft voice spoke.

Elizabeth’s eyes remained closed. “How do you do it, Ivan?”

“Do what?”

“Just appear out of nowhere exactly when I’m thinking of you?”

She heard him laugh lightly but he didn’t answer the question. “Why is this room the only one that hasn’t been finished? Or started, by the looks of it.” He stood behind her.

“Because I need help. I’m stuck.”

“Well, what do you know, Elizabeth Egan is asking for help.” There was a silence until Ivan started humming a familiar song, the song she hadn’t been able to get out of her head for the past two months and the song that was almost making her broke, thanks to Poppy and Becca’s pig in the office.

Her eyelids flew open. “What are you humming?”

“The humming song.”

“Did Luke teach you that?”

“No I taught him, thank you very much,” he explained.

“Oh, really,” Elizabeth grumbled, “I thought his invisible friend made it up.” She laughed to herself and then looked up to him. He wasn’t laughing.

Eventually he spoke. “Why do you sound like you’re speaking with socks in your mouth?” He looked down at her. “What is that on your face? A muzzle?” He roared laughing.

Elizabeth’s cheeks flushed. “It’s not a muzzle,” she spat. “You have no idea how much dust and bacteria this building has. Anyway, you should be wearing a hard hat”—she knocked on her own—“God forbid this place should come down on us,” she added sarcastically. “Although I forgot you’re invisible. Falling concrete blocks would just Fly right through your body.”

“What else are you wearing?” He ignored her moodiness and looked her up and down. “Gloves?”

“So my hands don’t get dirty.” She pouted like a child.

“Oh, Elizabeth.” Ivan shook his head and strolled comically around her. “All the things I’ve taught you and you’re still worrying about being clean and tidy.” He picked up a paintbrush that was sitting beside an open pot of paint and dipped it in.

“Ivan,” Elizabeth said, nervously watching him, “what are you going to do?”

“You said you wanted help.” He grinned at her.

Elizabeth rose slowly to her feet. “Ye-es, help with painting the wall, ” her voice warned.

“Well, unfortunately you didn’t quite specify that when you asked, so I’m afraid that doesn’t count.” He dipped the paintbrush into the red paint, held the bristles back in his hand, and released them toward Elizabeth like a catapult. Paint splattered across her face.

“Ooh, too bad you weren’t wearing protective clothing on the rest of your face,” he teased, watching her eyes widen in anger and shock.

“Ivan,” she said with venom in her voice, “throwing me in the lake is one thing, but this is ludicrous, ” she squealed. “This is my work . I’m serious, I want absolutely nothing more to do with you Ivan, Ivan ...I don’t even know your surname,” she spluttered.

“It’s Elbisivni,” he explained calmly.

“What are you, Russian? ” she shouted, almost hyperventilating. “Is Ekam Eveileb Russian too or does it even exist? ” She was screaming now and breathless.

“I’m very sorry,” Ivan said seriously, his smile disappearing. “I can sense that you’re upset. I’ll just put this back down.” He slowly lowered the paintbrush back to the pot and left it back at the perfect angle at which it had been placed, matching the others. “That was over the top, I apologize.”

Elizabeth’s anger began to subside.

“The red is perhaps too much of an angry color for you,” he continued. “I should have been more subtle.” Suddenly another paintbrush appeared before Elizabeth’s face. Her eyes widened.

“White, maybe?” He grinned and once again splashed the paint on her top.

“Ivan!” Elizabeth half laughed and half shouted. “Fine.” She dove toward the pots of paint. “You wanna play? I can play. Wearing colors is your favorite thing to do now, you say?” She dipped a paintbrush in the pot and chased Ivan around the room. “Blue’s your favorite color, Mr. Elbisivni?” She painted a strip of blue down his face and hair and began laughing evilly.

“You thought that was funny?”

She nodded, in hysterics.

“Good.” Ivan laughed, grabbing her by the waist and pushing her to the floor, pinning her down masterfully and painting her face while she squealed and struggled to get free. “If you don’t stop shouting, Elizabeth, you’ll have a green tongue,” Ivan warned.