Read Online If You Could See Me Now by Cecelia Ahern - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Cecelia Ahern
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place set and a freshly poured bowl of Coco Pops across from him.
“Boy is she strict,” I whispered to Luke at the table, trying to grab spoonfuls of Coco Pops without her noticing. I wouldn’t usually whisper around parents, but as she had heard me a couple of times already over the past few days, I wasn’t about to take any risks.
Luke giggled and nodded.
“Is she like this all the time?”
He nodded again and munched on his Coco Pops.
“Does she never play games and give you hugs?” I asked, watching as Elizabeth cleaned every inch of the already sparkling kitchen countertops, moving things a half an inch to the right and a half an inch to the left.
Luke thought for a while and then shrugged. “Not much.”
“But that’s horrible! Don’t you mind?”
“Edith says that there are some people in the world that don’t hug you all the time or play games but they still love you. They just don’t know how
to say it,” he whispered back.
Elizabeth eyed him nervously.
“Who’s Edith?”
“My nanny.”
“Where is she?”
“On her holidays.”
“So, who’s going to mind you while she’s on her holidays?”
“You.” Luke smiled.
“Let’s shake on it,” I said, holding out my hand. Luke grabbed it. “We do it like this,” I explained, shaking my head and my whole body, like I was having a convulsion. Luke started laughing and copied me. We laughed even harder when Elizabeth stopped cleaning to stare. Her eyes widened.
“You ask a lot of questions,” Luke whispered.
“You answer a lot,” I fired back and we both laughed again.
Elizabeth’s BMW rattled along the bumpy track leading to her father’s farm. She clenched her hands around the steering wheel in exasperation as the dust flew up from the ground and clung to the side of her newly washed car. How she had lived on this farm for eighteen years was beyond her; nothing could be kept clean. The wild fuchsia danced in the light breeze, waving their welcome from the side of the road. They lined the mile-long road like landing lights and rubbed against the windows of the car, pressing their faces to see who was inside. Luke lowered his window and allowed his hand to be tickled by their kisses.
She prayed that no traffic would come toward her, as the road just about allowed her car through, leaving no room for two-way traffic. In order to let someone pass she would have to reverse half a mile back the way she came, just to make room. At times it felt like the longest road in the world. She could see where she was trying to get to, yet she would have to keep reversing in order to get there.
Two steps forward and one step back.
It was like the frustration she suffered as a child at home—the excitement of seeing her mother from a mile away, but being forced to wait the twenty minutes it took her mother to dance down the road, until she’d hear the familiar sound of the gate creaking.
But, thankfully, no traffic came this time. They were delayed already as it was. Elizabeth’s words had obviously fallen on deaf ears, because Luke refused to leave the house until Ivan had finished his cereal. He then insisted on holding the passenger seat in the car forward in order to let Ivan into the backseat first.
She glanced quickly at Luke. He sat buckled up in the back, arm out the window, humming the same song he had been singing all weekend. He looked happy. She hoped he wouldn’t keep his playacting up for much longer, at least while he was at his granddad’s. She could see her father at the gate waiting. A familiar sight. A familiar action. Waiting was his forte.
He wore the same brown cords Elizabeth could have sworn he had been wearing since she was a child. They were tucked into muddy green Wellington boots that he walked in all around the house. His gray cotton jumper was stitched with a faded green-and-blue diamond pattern; there was a hole in the center, and underneath the green of his polo shirt peeked through. A tweed cap
“Boy is she strict,” I whispered to Luke at the table, trying to grab spoonfuls of Coco Pops without her noticing. I wouldn’t usually whisper around parents, but as she had heard me a couple of times already over the past few days, I wasn’t about to take any risks.
Luke giggled and nodded.
“Is she like this all the time?”
He nodded again and munched on his Coco Pops.
“Does she never play games and give you hugs?” I asked, watching as Elizabeth cleaned every inch of the already sparkling kitchen countertops, moving things a half an inch to the right and a half an inch to the left.
Luke thought for a while and then shrugged. “Not much.”
“But that’s horrible! Don’t you mind?”
“Edith says that there are some people in the world that don’t hug you all the time or play games but they still love you. They just don’t know how
to say it,” he whispered back.
Elizabeth eyed him nervously.
“Who’s Edith?”
“My nanny.”
“Where is she?”
“On her holidays.”
“So, who’s going to mind you while she’s on her holidays?”
“You.” Luke smiled.
“Let’s shake on it,” I said, holding out my hand. Luke grabbed it. “We do it like this,” I explained, shaking my head and my whole body, like I was having a convulsion. Luke started laughing and copied me. We laughed even harder when Elizabeth stopped cleaning to stare. Her eyes widened.
“You ask a lot of questions,” Luke whispered.
“You answer a lot,” I fired back and we both laughed again.
Elizabeth’s BMW rattled along the bumpy track leading to her father’s farm. She clenched her hands around the steering wheel in exasperation as the dust flew up from the ground and clung to the side of her newly washed car. How she had lived on this farm for eighteen years was beyond her; nothing could be kept clean. The wild fuchsia danced in the light breeze, waving their welcome from the side of the road. They lined the mile-long road like landing lights and rubbed against the windows of the car, pressing their faces to see who was inside. Luke lowered his window and allowed his hand to be tickled by their kisses.
She prayed that no traffic would come toward her, as the road just about allowed her car through, leaving no room for two-way traffic. In order to let someone pass she would have to reverse half a mile back the way she came, just to make room. At times it felt like the longest road in the world. She could see where she was trying to get to, yet she would have to keep reversing in order to get there.
Two steps forward and one step back.
It was like the frustration she suffered as a child at home—the excitement of seeing her mother from a mile away, but being forced to wait the twenty minutes it took her mother to dance down the road, until she’d hear the familiar sound of the gate creaking.
But, thankfully, no traffic came this time. They were delayed already as it was. Elizabeth’s words had obviously fallen on deaf ears, because Luke refused to leave the house until Ivan had finished his cereal. He then insisted on holding the passenger seat in the car forward in order to let Ivan into the backseat first.
She glanced quickly at Luke. He sat buckled up in the back, arm out the window, humming the same song he had been singing all weekend. He looked happy. She hoped he wouldn’t keep his playacting up for much longer, at least while he was at his granddad’s. She could see her father at the gate waiting. A familiar sight. A familiar action. Waiting was his forte.
He wore the same brown cords Elizabeth could have sworn he had been wearing since she was a child. They were tucked into muddy green Wellington boots that he walked in all around the house. His gray cotton jumper was stitched with a faded green-and-blue diamond pattern; there was a hole in the center, and underneath the green of his polo shirt peeked through. A tweed cap
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