Cecelia Ahern: If You Could See Me Now

There was a sad tone in Colm’s voice. “It’s already been done. We can’t change it now.”

“What will her punishment be?” She felt sick.

“It depends on the judge on the day. It’s her first offense, well her first known offense. He may go lightly on her, then again he may not.” He shrugged, then looked at his hands. “And it also depends on what the Garda who arrested her says.”

“Why?”

“Because if she was cooperative and gave no trouble it could make a difference, then again...”

“It might not,” Elizabeth said worriedly. “Well? Did she cooperate?”

Colm laughed lightly. “Took two people to hold her down.”

“Damnit!” Elizabeth swore. “Who arrested her?” She nibbled on her nails.

There was a silence before Colm spoke. “I did.”

Her mouth dropped open. Colm had always had a soft spot for Saoirse, he was the one who was always on her side. She chewed nervously on the inside of her mouth and felt the taste of blood slide down her throat.

“I’ll do the best I can for her,” he said softly. “Just try and keep her out of trouble until the hearing in a few weeks.”

Elizabeth, who realized she hadn’t been breathing for the last few seconds of the conversation, suddenly let her breath out. “Thank you.” She couldn’t say any more. Although she felt huge relief, she knew it was no victory. No one could protect her sister this time, she would have to face the consequences of her actions. But how was she expected to keep her eye on Saoirse when she didn’t know where to begin looking for her? Saoirse couldn’t stay with her and Luke, she was far too out of control to be around him, and her father had long since told her to move out and stay out.

“I better leave you at it so,” Colm said gently, fixed his cap back on his head, and made his way down the cobblestoned drive.

Elizabeth sat on the porch, trying to rest her knocking knees, and looked at her mud-stained car. Why did Saoirse have to taint everything? Why was everything ...every one Elizabeth loved chased away by her younger sister? She felt the clouds above push all that was between them and her onto her shoulders and she worried about what her father was going to do when they would undoubtedly bring Saoirse to his farm. She would give him five minutes before he rang Elizabeth, complaining.

Inside the house, the phone started ringing and Elizabeth’s heart sank even deeper. She rose from the porch where she had been trapped in a web of thought, turned slowly on her heel, and headed inside. When she got to the door the ringing had stopped and she spotted Luke sitting on the stairs with the phone pressed to his ear. She leaned against the wooden door frame, arms folded, and watched him. She felt a small smile creep onto her face. He was growing up so fast and she felt such a disconnection from the whole process, as though he was doing everything without her help. He was doing it without the nurturing she knew she should be providing but that she felt awkward summoning. She knew she lacked that emotion, sometimes lacked emotion full stop, and every day she wished the maternal instincts she lacked had come with the paperwork she signed. When Luke fell and cut his knee, her immediate response was to clean it and plaster his cut. To her that felt like enough, not dancing him around the room to stop his tears and slapping the ground like she’d watched Edith do.

“Hi, Granddad,” Luke was saying politely.

He paused to listen to his granddad on the other end.

“I’m just having lunch with Elizabeth and my new best friend, Ivan.”

Pause.

“A cheese and tomato pizza, but Ivan likes olives on his.”

Pause.

“Olives, Granddad.”

Pause.

“No, I don’t think you can grow them on the farm.”

Pause.

“O-L-I-V-E-S,” he spelled it out slowly.

Pause.

“Hold on, Granddad, my friend Ivan is telling me something.” Luke held the phone to his chest and looked into thin air, concentrating hard. Finally, he lifted the phone back to his ear. “Ivan said that the olive is a small, oily fruit that contains a pit. It’s grown for its fruit and oil in subtropical zones.” He looked away and appeared to be listening. “There are lots of types of olives.” He stopped talking, looked into the distance, and then back to the phone. “Underripe olives are always green but ripe olives are either green or black.” He looked away and listened to the silence again. “Most tree-ripened olives are used for oil, the rest are brine-or salt-cured and are packed in olive oil or a brine or vinegar solution.” He looked into the distance. “Ivan, what’s brine?” There was silence, then he nodded. “Oh.”

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows and laughed nervously to herself. Since when had Luke become an expert on olives? He must have learned about them at school, he had a good memory for things like that. Luke paused and listened to the other end. “Well, Ivan can’t wait to meet you too.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and dashed toward Luke for the phone in case he said any more. Her father was confused enough as it was at times, without having to explain the existence, or lack thereof, of an invisible boy.

“Hello,” Elizabeth said, grabbing the phone.

“Elizabeth,” said the stern formal voice, thick with a Kerry lilt. Luke dragged his feet back to the kitchen. Irritation at the noise reared itself within Elizabeth again. “I just returned to find your sister lying on my kitchen floor. I gave her a boot, but I can’t figure out whether she’s dead or not.”

Elizabeth sighed. “That’s not funny and my sister is your daughter, you know.” “Oh, don’t give me that,” he said dismissively. “I want to know what you’re going to do about it. She can’t stay here. The last time she did, she

released the chickens from the coop and I spent all day getting them back

in. And with my back and my hip, I can’t be doing that anymore.”

“I know, but she can’t stay here either. She upsets Luke.”

“That child doesn’t know enough about her to be upset. Half the time she forgets she’s given birth to him. You can’t have him all to yourself, you know.”

Elizabeth bit her tongue in rage. “She can’t come here,” she said more patiently than she felt. “She was around earlier and took the car again. Colm just brought it back a few minutes ago. It’s really serious this time.” She took a deep breath. “They arrested her.”

Her father was silent for a while and then he tutted. “And rightly so, the experience will do her the world of good.” He quickly changed the subject. “Why weren’t you at work today? Our lord only intended us to rest on a Sunday.”

“Well, that’s the whole point. Today was a really important day for me at wor—”

“Well, your sister’s come back to the land of the living and is outside trying to push the cows over. Tell young Luke to come around with this new friend on Monday. We’ll show him the farm.”

There was a click and the line went dead. Hello and good-bye were not her father’s speciality; he still thought that mobile phones were some sort of futuristic alien technology designed to confuse the human race.

She hung up the phone and made her way back to the kitchen. Luke sat alone at the table, holding his stomach and laughing hysterically. She took her seat and continued eating her salad. She wasn’t one of those people who was interested in eating food; she only did it because she had to. Evenings spent over long dinners bored her and she never had much of an appetite, she was always too busy worrying about something or too hyper to be able to sit still and eat. She glanced at the plate directly ahead of her and to her surprise saw that it was empty.