If You Could See Me Now Page 17

  ‘Hello,’ she breathed, noticing the change in her voice, and hating herself for it.

  ‘Morning, Elizabeth,’ he smiled. His voice was different too.

  They both sensed it, sensed something, and just stared at one another.

  ‘Kept you a table.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  Smiles.

  ‘Can I take a breakfast order?’ Joe asked her, pen and pad in hand.

  Elizabeth usually didn’t eat breakfast, but by the way Ivan was looking through the menu she thought she could just be a few minutes late to the office for a change.

  ‘Can I have a second menu, please, Joe?’

  Joe glared at her. ‘Why do you want a second menu?’

  ‘So I can read it,’ she stated.

  ‘What’s wrong with the one on the table?’ he said moodily.

  ‘OK, OK,’ she backed off, leaning closer to Ivan to share the menu.

  Joe eyed her suspiciously.

  ‘I think I’ll have the Irish breakfast,’ Ivan said, licking his lips.

  ‘I’ll have the same,’ Elizabeth said to Joe.

  ‘The same as what?’

  ‘The Irish breakfast.’

  ‘OK, so one Irish breakfast and a coffee.’

  ‘No,’ Elizabeth’s forehead wrinkled, ‘two Irish breakfasts and two coffees.’

  ‘Eatin’ for two, are ye?’ Joe asked, looking her up and down.

  ‘No!’ Elizabeth exclaimed, and turned to Ivan with an apologetic look on her face when Joe had walked away. ‘Sorry about him; he acts oddly sometimes.’

  Joe placed the two coffees on the table, eyed her suspiciously and hurried off to serve another table.

  ‘Busy in here today.’ Elizabeth barely even looked away from him.

  ‘Is it?’ he asked, not moving his eyes from hers.

  A tingle ran through Elizabeth’s body. ‘I like it when the town’s like this. It brings it to life. I don’t know what Ekam Eveileb is like, but here you get sick of seeing the same people all the time. Tourists change the scenery, give you something to hide behind.’

  ‘Why would you want to hide?’

  ‘Ivan, the whole town knows about me. They practically know more about my family history than I do.’

  ‘I don’t listen to the town, I listen to you.’

  ‘I know. During the summer, the place is like a big tree, strong and beautiful,’ she tried to explain, ‘but in winter, it’s robbed of its leaves, standing bare, with nothing to cover you or give you privacy. I always feel like I’m on display.’

  ‘You don’t like living here?’

  ‘It’s not that. It’s just it needs some livening up sometimes, a real kick in the behind. I sit in here every morning and dream of pouring my coffee all over the streets, to give it the buzz it needs to waken the place up.’

  ‘Well then, why don’t you?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Ivan stood up. ‘Elizabeth Egan, come with me and bring your coffee cup.’

  ‘Bu—’

  ‘No buts, just come.’ With that he walked out of the café.

  She followed him in confusion, carrying her cup outside.

  ‘Well?’ she asked, taking a sip.

  ‘Well, I think it’s high time you gave this town a caffeine high,’ Ivan announced, looking up and down the empty street.

  Elizabeth stared at him blankly.

  ‘Go on.’ He tapped her cup slightly and milky coffee sploshed over the side and onto the pavement. ‘Oops,’ he said drily.

  Elizabeth laughed at him. ‘You’re so silly, Ivan.’

  ‘Why am I silly? You’re the one that suggested it.’ He hit her cup again, harder this time, sending more coffee dripping to the ground. Elizabeth let out a shout and jumped back to avoid it staining her shoes.

  She attracted a few stares from inside the café.

  ‘Go on, Elizabeth!’

  It was ludicrous, preposterous, ridiculous and completely juvenile. It didn’t make sense to do it, but remembering the fun in the field yesterday, how she laughed and how she floated for the remainder of the day, she craved more of that feeling. She toppled the cup to the side, allowing the coffee to fall to the ground. It first formed a pool, then she watched it flow down the cracks in the slabs of stones and run slowly down the street.

  ‘Come on, that won’t even have woken the insects up,’ Ivan teased.

  ‘Well then, stand back.’ She raised an eyebrow. Ivan stepped away as Elizabeth held out her arm and spun around on the spot. The coffee shot out as though in a fountain.

  Joe stuck his head out the door. ‘What are you upta, Elizabeth? Did I make a bad cuppa?’ He looked worried. ‘You’re not making me look good in front of these folk.’ He nodded towards the tourists gathered at the window, watching her.

  Ivan laughed. ‘I think this calls for another cup of coffee,’ he announced.

  ‘Another cup?’ Elizabeth asked startled.

  ‘OK so,’ Joe said, slowly backing up.

  ‘Excuse me, what is she doing?’ a tourist asked Joe as he headed back inside.

  ‘Ah,’ tis a, eh,’ Joe floundered, ‘’tis a custom we have here in Baile na gCroíthe. Every Monday morning we just, eh,’ he looked back at Elizabeth, standing alone, laughing and twirling as she splattered coffee on the pavement, ‘we like to splatter the coffee around, you see. It’s good for the, eh,’ he watched as it splashed over his window boxes, ‘flowers,’ he gulped.

  The man’s eyebrows rose with interest and he smiled in amusement. ‘In that case, five more cups of coffee for my dear friends.’

  Joe looked uncertain, then his face broke into a great big smile as the money was thrust towards him. ‘Five cups on the way.’

  Moments later Elizabeth was joined by five strangers who danced around beside her, whooping and hollering as they spilled coffee down the pavement. This made her and Ivan laugh even more until eventually they escaped the crowd, who were giving each other secret looks of confusion over the silly Irish custom of spilling coffee on the ground, but who were finding amusement in it all the same.

  Elizabeth looked around the village in astonishment. Shopkeepers stood at their front doors watching the commotion outside Joe’s. Windows opened and heads peaked out. Cars slowed down to have a look, causing the traffic behind to beep in frustration. In a matter of moments a sleepy town had woken.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Ivan asked, wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes. ‘Why have you stopped laughing?’

  ‘Are there no such things as dreams to you, Ivan? Can’t some things remain only in your head?’ As far as she could see he could make everything happen. Well, almost everything. She looked up into his blue eyes and her heart beat wildly.

  He gazed down at her and took a step closer. He looked so serious, and older than he had previously appeared, as if he had seen and learned something new in the last few seconds. He placed a soft hand on her cheek and moved his head slowly towards her face. ‘No,’ he whispered, and kissed her so gently on the lips her knees almost buckled beneath her, ‘everything must come true.’

  Joe looked out the window and laughed at the tourists dancing and splattering coffee outside his shop. Catching a glimpse of Elizabeth across the road, Joe moved closer to the window to get a better look. She held her head high in the air with her eyes closed in perfect bliss. Her hair, which was usually tied back, was down and blowing in the light morning breeze and she looked to be revelling in the sun shining down on her face.

  Joe could have sworn he saw her mother in that face.

  Chapter 23

  It took Ivan and Elizabeth’s mouths a while to pull away from one another but when they finally did, with tingling lips Elizabeth half skipped, half walked along the path to her office. She felt if she lifted her feet any higher from the ground she would float away. Humming as she tried to control her non-flight, she bumped straight into Mrs Bracken, who stood in her doorway, eyeing up the tourists across the road.

  ‘Jesus
!’ Elizabeth jumped back in fright.

  ‘Is the son of God, who sacrificed his life and died on the cross to spread the Lord’s word and to give you a better life, so don’t take his name in vain,’ Mrs Bracken rattled off. She nodded in the direction of the café. ‘What are those foreigners up to at all, at all?’

  Elizabeth bit her lip and tried not to laugh. ‘I have no idea. Why don’t you join them?’

  ‘Mr Bracken wouldn’t be pleased about that carry-on at all.’ She must have sensed something in Elizabeth’s voice because her head shot up, her eyes narrowed and she studied Elizabeth’s face intently. ‘You look different.’

  Elizabeth ignored her and laughed as Joe guiltily mopped up the coffee on the pavement.

  ‘You’ve been spending time up at that tower?’ Mrs Bracken accused her.

  ‘Of course I have Mrs Bracken. I’m designing the place, remember? And by the way, I’ve ordered the fabric; it should be arriving in three weeks, which gives us two months to get everything ready. Do you think you can get some extra help here?’

  Mrs Bracken’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. ‘Your hair’s down.’

  ‘And?’ Elizabeth asked, moving into the fabric shop to see if her order had arrived.

  ‘And Mr Bracken used to say beware of a woman who drastically changes her hair.’

  ‘I would hardly call letting my hair down a drastic change.’

  ‘Elizabeth Egan, for you of all people, I would call letting your hair down a drastic change. By the way,’ she moved on quickly, not allowing Elizabeth to get a word in, ‘there’s a problem with the order that came in today.’

  ‘What’s wrong with it?’

  ‘It’s colourful.’ She said the word as if it were a disease and, widening her eyes, she emphasised it even more: ‘Red.’

  Elizabeth smiled. ‘It’s raspberry, not red, and what’s wrong with a bit of colour?’

  ‘What’s wrong with a bit of colour, she says.’ Mrs Bracken raised her voice an octave. ‘Up until last week your world was brown. It’s the tower that’s doing it to you. The American fella, isn’t it?’

  ‘Oh, don’t you start with that tower talk as well,’ Elizabeth dismissed her. ‘I’ve been up there all week, and all it is is a crumbling wall.’

  ‘A crumbling wall is right,’ Mrs Bracken said, eyeing her, ‘and it’s the American fella that’s knocking it.’

  Elizabeth rolled her eyes. ‘Goodbye, Mrs Bracken.’ She ran upstairs to her office.

  On her entry a pair of legs sticking out from underneath Poppy’s desk greeted her. They were men’s legs – brown cords with brown shoes moving and squiggling around.

  ‘Is that you, Elizabeth?’ a voice shouted out.

  ‘Yes, Harry,’ Elizabeth smiled. Oddly, she was finding the two people who usually irritated her on a daily basis strangely lovable. Ivan was certainly passing the silly smile test.

  ‘I’m just tightening up this chair. Poppy told me it was acting up on ya last week.’

  ‘It was, Harry, thanks.’

  ‘No problem.’ His legs slithered up under the desk and disappeared as he struggled to his feet. Banging his head against the desk he finally appeared, his bald head covered by spaghetti- strings of hair brushed over from one side to the other.

  ‘Ah, there you are,’ he said, popping his head up, spanner in hand. ‘It shouldn’t spin on its own any more. Funny that it did that.’ He gave it one last check, then looked at Elizabeth with the same expression as the one he had when examining the chair. ‘You look different.’

  ‘No, I’m still the same,’ she said, walking through to her office.

  ‘It’s the hair. The hair’s down. I always say it’s better for a woman’s hair to be down and—’

  ‘Thank you, Harry. Will that be all?’ Elizabeth said firmly, ending the conversation.

  ‘Oh, right so.’ His cheeks flushed as he waved her off and made his way downstairs, no doubt to gossip to Mrs Bracken about Elizabeth’s hair being down.

  Elizabeth settled at her desk and tried to concentrate on her work but found herself gently placing her fingers on her lips, reliving the kiss with Ivan.

  ‘OK,’ Poppy said, entering Elizabeth’s office and placing a money box on her desk. ‘See this here?’

  Elizabeth nodded at the little pig. Becca stood at the door in the background.

  ‘Well, I’ve come up with a plan.’ Poppy gritted her teeth. ‘Every time you start to hum that bloody song of yours, you have to put money in the pig.’

  Elizabeth raised her eyebrows in amusement. ‘Poppy, did you make this pig?’ she stared at the papier-mâché pig sitting on her desk.

  Poppy tried to hide her smile. ‘It was a quiet night last night. But, seriously, it’s getting beyond irritating now, Elizabeth, you’ve got to believe me,’ Poppy pleaded. ‘Even Becca is sick of it.’

  ‘Is that right, Becca?’

  Becca’s cheeks pinked and she walked away quickly, not wanting to be dragged into the conversation.

  ‘Great backup,’ Poppy grumbled.

  ‘So who gets the money?’ Elizabeth asked.

  ‘The pig. He’s raising funds for a new sty. Hum a song and support a pig,’ she said, quickly thrusting the pig in Elizabeth’s face.

  Elizabeth tried not to laugh. ‘Out.’

  Moments later, after they had settled down and gone back to work, Becca came charging into the office, placed the pig on the table and said with wide eyes, ‘Pay!’

  ‘Was I humming it again?’ Elizabeth asked in surprise.

  ‘Yes,’ she hissed, her patience frayed, and turned on her heel.

  Later that afternoon Becca brought a visitor into Elizabeth’s office.

  ‘Hello, Mrs Collins,’ Elizabeth said politely, nerves forming in the pit of her stomach. Mrs Collins ran the B&B Saoirse had been staying in for the past few weeks. ‘Please, sit down.’ She indicated the chair before her.

  ‘Thank you.’ Mrs Collins took a seat. ‘And call me Margaret.’ She looked around the room like a frightened child who had been called to the principal’s office. She kept her hands clasped on her lap as though afraid to touch anything. Her blouse was buttoned up to her chin.

  ‘I’ve come to you about Saoirse. I’m afraid I haven’t been able to pass on any of your notes and phone messages to her over the past few days,’ Margaret said uncomfortably, fiddling with the hem of her blouse. ‘She hasn’t been back to the B&B for three days now.’

  ‘Oh,’ Elizabeth said, feeling embarrassed. ‘Thank you for informing me, Margaret, but there’s no need to worry. I expect she’ll be calling me soon.’ She was tired of being the last to know everything, of being informed of her own family’s activities by complete strangers. Despite being distracted by Ivan, Elizabeth had tried to keep her eye on Saoirse as much as she could. Her hearing was on in a few weeks, but Elizabeth hadn’t been able to find her anywhere. Anywhere being the pub, her dad’s or the B&B.

  ‘Well, actually it’s not that. It’s just that, well, it’s a very busy period for us. There are a lot of tourists coming through and looking for boarding, and we need to use Saoirse’s room.’

  ‘Yes.’ She sprang back in her chair, feeling foolish. Of course. ‘That’s completely understandable,’ Elizabeth said awkwardly. ‘I can call round after work to collect her things, if you like.’

  ‘That won’t be necessary,’ Margaret smiled sweetly, then shouted, ‘BOYS!’

  In walked Margaret’s two young teenage sons, each with a suitcase in his hand.

  ‘I took the liberty of gathering her things together,’ Margaret continued, her smile still plastered across her face. ‘Now all I need is the three days’ rent and that will be everything settled.’

  Elizabeth froze. ‘Margaret, I’m sure you’ll understand that Saoirse’s bills are her own. Just because I’m her sister it doesn’t mean I can be expected to pay. She will return soon, I’m sure.’

  ‘Oh, I know that, Elizabeth,’ Margaret smiled, revealing a pink lipstick
stain on her front tooth. ‘But seeing as mine is currently the only B&B that will allow Saoirse to stay I’m sure you’ll make an allow—’

  ‘How much?’ Elizabeth snapped.

  ‘Fifteen per night,’ Margaret said sweetly.

  Elizabeth rooted through her wallet. She sighed. ‘Look, Margaret, I don’t seem to have any ca—’

  ‘A cheque will do fine,’ she sang.

  After handing over the cheque to Margaret, for the first time in a while Elizabeth stopped thinking about Ivan and started worrying about Saoirse. Just like old times.

  At 10 p.m. in downtown Manhattan, Elizabeth and Mark stared out of the huge black windows of the hundred-and-fourteenth-floor bar that Elizabeth had finished designing. Tonight was the opening night of Club Zoo, an entire floor dedicated to animal prints, fur couches and cushions with greenery and bamboo sporadically placed. It was everything she loathed in a design, but she had been given a brief and she had to stick to it. It was a huge success, everyone was enjoying the night, and a live performance of drummers performing jungle beats and the constant sound of happy conversation added to the party atmosphere. Elizabeth and Mark clinked their champagne glasses together and looked outside to the sea of skyscrapers, the random lights dotting the buildings like chequers and the tide of yellow cabs below them.

  ‘To another of your successes,’ Mark toasted, sipping on the bubble-filled glass.

  Elizabeth smiled, feeling proud. ‘We’re a long way from home now, aren’t we?’ she pondered, looking out at the view and seeing the reflection of the party going on behind her. She saw the owner, Henry Hakala, making his way through the crowd.

  ‘Elizabeth, there you are.’ He held out his arms and greeted her. ‘What is the star of the night doing in the corner away from everyone?’ he asked.

  ‘Henry, this is Mark Leeson, my boyfriend; Mark, this is Henry Hakala, owner of Club Zoo,’ she introduced the two.

  ‘So you’re the person that’s kept my girlfriend out late every night,’ Mark joked, taking Henry’s hand.

  Henry laughed. ‘She’s saved my life. Three weeks to do all this?’ He motioned at the room decorated vibrantly in zebra print on the walls, bear skins draped on the couches, leopard print lying across the timber floors, enormous plants sitting in chrome pots and bamboo lining the bar area. ‘It was a tough deadline and I knew she’d do it, but I didn’t think she’d do it this well.’ He looked grateful. ‘Anyway, the speeches are about to begin. I just want to say a few words, mention a few investors’ names,’ he muttered under his breath, ‘thank all you glorious people that worked so hard. So don’t go anywhere, Elizabeth, because I’ll have all eyes on you in a minute.’