Finally Luke exploded and, staring into space, demanded, ‘Ivan, say something to her!’
There was a silence as he looked into space and then giggled hysterically. He looked back at Elizabeth and his smile quickly faded when he noticed her lack of response. ‘Do you not see him?’ he squealed nervously. Then, more angrily, repeated, ‘Why don’t you see him?’
‘OK, OK!’ Elizabeth tried not to panic. She stood back up to her own level. A level where she had control. She couldn’t see him and her brain refused to let her pretend. She wanted to get out of the room quickly. She lifted her leg to step over the beanbag and stopped herself, instead choosing to walk round it. Once at the door, she glanced around one last time to see if she could spot the mystery Ivan. No sign.
Luke shrugged, sat down and continued playing his wrestling game.
‘I’m putting some pizza on now, Luke.’
Silence. What else should she say? It was at moments like this she realised that reading all the parenting manuals in the world never helped. Good parenting came from the heart, was instinctive, and not for the first time she worried she was letting Luke down.
‘It will be ready in twenty minutes,’ she finished awkwardly.
‘What?’ Luke pressed Pause again and faced the window.
‘I said it will be ready in twen—’
‘No, not you,’ Luke said, once again being sucked into the world of video games. ‘Ivan would like some too. He said pizza is his favourite.’
‘Oh.’ Elizabeth swallowed helplessly.
‘With olives,’ Luke continued.
‘But, Luke, you hate olives.’
‘Yeah, but Ivan loves them. He says they’re his favourite.’
‘Oh…’
‘Thanks,’ Luke said to his aunt, looked to the beanbag, gave the thumbs-up, smiled, then looked away again.
Elizabeth slowly backed out of the playroom. She realised she was still holding the phone to her chest. ‘Marie, are you still there?’ She chewed on her nail and stared at the closed playroom door, wondering what to do.
‘I thought you’d gone off to the moon as well. I was about to send a car over to your house too,’ Marie chuckled.
Marie mistook Elizabeth’s silence for anger and apologised quickly. ‘Anyway, you were right, Saoirse was headed to the moon but luckily she decided to stop off on the way to refuel. Refuelling herself, more like. Your car was found blocking the main street with the engine still running and the driver’s door wide open. You’re lucky Paddy found it when he did before someone took off with it.’
‘Let me guess. The car was outside the pub.’
‘Correct.’ Marie paused. ‘Do you want to press charges?’
Elizabeth sighed. ‘No. Thanks, Marie.’
‘Not a problem. We’ll have someone bring the car home to you.’
‘What about Saoirse?’ Elizabeth paced the hall. ‘Where is she?’
‘We’ll just keep her here for a while, Elizabeth.’
‘I’ll come get her,’ Elizabeth said quickly.
‘No,’ Marie insisted. ‘Let me get back to you about that. She needs to calm down before she goes anywhere yet.’
From inside the playroom Elizabeth heard Luke laughing and talking away to himself.
‘Actually, Marie,’ she added with a weak smile, ‘while we’re on the phone, tell whoever’s bringing the car to bring a shrink with them. It seems Luke is imagining ifriends now…’
Inside the playroom Ivan rolled his eyes and wiggled his body down further into the beanbag. He had heard her on the phone. Ever since he had started this job, parents had been calling him that and it was really beginning to bother him. There was nothing imaginary about him whatsoever
They just couldn’t see him.
Chapter 3
It was really nice of Luke to invite me to lunch that day. When I said that pizza was my favourite I hadn’t actually intended being asked to stay to eat it. But how can you say no to the treat of pizza on a Friday? That’s a cause for double celebration. However, I got the impression from the incident in the playroom that his aunt didn’t like me very much, but I’m not at all surprised because that’s usually the way it goes. The parents always think that making food for me is a waste because they always just end up throwing it out. But it’s tricky for me – I mean, you try eating your dinner squashed in a tiny place at the table while everyone looks at you and wonders whether the food is going to disappear or not. I eventually get so paranoid that I can’t eat and just have to leave the food on the plate.
Not that I’m complaining – being invited to dinner is nice but the grown-ups never quite put the same amount of food on my plate as everyone else’s. It’s never even half as much food as the rest and they always say things like, ‘Oh, I’m sure Ivan’s not that hungry today anyway.’ I mean, how would they know? They never even ask. I’m usually sandwiched between whoever my best friend is at the time and some annoying older brother or sister who steals my food when no one’s looking.
They forget to give me things like serviettes, cutlery, and they sure aren’t generous with the wine. (Sometimes they just give me an empty plate and tell my best friends that invisible people eat invisible food. I mean, please, does the invisible wind blow invisible trees?) I usually get a glass of water and that’s only when I ask my friends politely. The grown-ups think it’s weird that I need a glass of water with my food, but they make an even bigger deal about it when I want ice. I mean, the ice is free anyway and who doesn’t like a cool drink on a hot day?
It’s usually the moms who have conversations with me. Only they ask questions and don’t listen to the answers, or pretend to everyone else that I’ve said something else just to make them all laugh. They even look at my chest when they’re talking to me as if they expect me to be three feet tall. It’s such a stereotype. For the record, I’m six foot tall and we don’t really do the ‘age’ thing where I’m from; we come into existence as we are and grow spiritually rather than physically. It’s our brains that do the growing. Let’s just say my brain is pretty big by now, but there’s always room for more growth. I’ve been doing this job for a long, long time and I’m good at it. I’ve never failed a friend.
The dads always say things under their breath to me when they think no one else is listening. For example, me and Barry went to Waterford on our summer holidays and we were lying on the beach on Brittas Bay and a lady walked by in a bikini. Barry’s dad said under his breath, ‘Getta loada that, Ivan.’ The dads always think that I agree with them. They always tell my best friends that I told them things like, ‘It’s good to eat vegetables. Ivan told me to tell you to eat your broccoli,’ and stupid things like that. My best friends know full well that’s not what I would say.
But that’s grown-ups for you.
Nineteen minutes and thirty-eight seconds later, Elizabeth called Luke for dinner. My tummy was grumbling and I was really looking forward to the pizza. I followed Luke down the long hall to the kitchen, looking in every room as we passed. The house was really quiet and our footsteps echoed. Every room was all white or beige, and so spotless that I began to get nervous about eating my pizza because I didn’t want to make a mess. As far as I could see, not only was there no sign of a child living in the house, there was no sign of anyone living in the house. It didn’t have what you’d call a homely feel.
I liked the kitchen, though. It was warm from the sun and because it was surrounded by glass, it felt like we were sitting in the garden. Kind of like a picnic. I noticed the table was set for two people so I waited until told where to sit. The plates were big, black and shiny, the sun through the window made the cutlery sparkle and the two crystal glasses reflect rainbow colours on the table. There was a bowl of salad and a glass jug of water with ice and lemon in the centre of the table. Everything was resting on black marble place mats. Looking at how everything glistened, I was afraid even to get the napkins dirty.
Elizabeth’s chair legs squeaked against the tiles as
she sat down. She put her serviette on her lap. I noticed she’d changed into a chocolate-brown tracksuit to match her hair and complement her skin. Luke’s chair squeaked and he sat down. Elizabeth picked up the giant salad fork and spoon and began to gather leaves and baby tomatoes onto her plate. Luke watched her and frowned. Luke had a slice of margherita pizza on his plate. No olives. I shoved my hands deep into my pockets and shuffled nervously from foot to foot.
‘Is something wrong, Luke?’ Elizabeth asked, pouring dressing over her lettuce.
‘Where’s Ivan’s place?’
Elizabeth paused, screwed the lid on tightly and put the jar back in the centre of the table. ‘Now, Luke, let’s not be silly,’ she said light-heartedly, not looking at him. I knew she was afraid to look.
‘I’m not being silly,’ Luke frowned. ‘You said Ivan could stay for dinner.’
‘Yes, but where is Ivan?’ She tried to keep the soft tone in her voice while sprinkling grated cheese over her salad. I could tell she didn’t want this to become an issue. She would knock it on the head straight away and there would be no more talk of invisible friends.
‘He’s standing right beside you.’
Elizabeth slammed her knife and fork down and Luke jumped in his seat. She opened her mouth to silence him but was interrupted by the doorbell ringing. As soon as she left the room, Luke got up from his chair and took out a plate from the kitchen press. A big black one just the same as the other two. He placed a slice of pizza on the plate, took out the cutlery and a napkin and placed it on a third place mat beside him.
‘That’s your seat, Ivan,’ he said happily, and took a bite out of his pizza. A piece of melted cheese dribbled down his chin, looking like yellow string.
To be truthful I wouldn’t have sat down at the table if it wasn’t for my grumbling stomach shouting at me to eat. I knew Elizabeth would be mad, but if I gobbled the food up real fast before she returned to the kitchen then she wouldn’t even know.
‘Want some olives on that?’ Luke asked, wiping his tomatoey face on his sleeve.
I laughed and nodded. My mouth was watering.
Elizabeth hurried back into the kitchen just as Luke was reaching up to the shelf.
‘What are you doing?’ she asked, rummaging through a drawer for something.
‘Getting the olives for Ivan,’ Luke explained. ‘He likes olives on his pizza, remember?’
She looked across to the kitchen table and saw that it had been set for three. She rubbed her eyes tiredly. ‘Look, Luke, don’t you think it’s a waste of food, putting the olives on the pizza? You hate them and I’ll only have to throw it out.’
‘Well, it won’t be a waste because Ivan will eat them, won’t you, Ivan?’
‘I sure will,’ I said, licking my lips and rubbing my aching tummy.
‘Well?’ Elizabeth cocked an eyebrow. ‘What did he say?’
Luke frowned. ‘You mean you can’t hear him either?’ He looked at me and circled his forefinger around his temple, signalling to me that his aunt was crazy. ‘He said he sure will eat them all.’
‘How polite of him,’ Elizabeth mumbled, continuing to rummage through the drawer. ‘But you better make sure every last crumb is gone because it’ll be the last time Ivan eats with us if not.’
‘Don’t worry, Elizabeth, I’ll gobble it all right up,’ I told her, taking a bite. I couldn’t face not being able to eat with Luke and his aunt again. She had sad eyes, sad brown eyes, and I was convinced that I was going to make her happy by eating every last crumb. I ate quickly.
‘Thanks, Colm,’ Elizabeth said tiredly, taking the car keys from the garda. She circled the car slowly, inspecting the paintwork closely.
‘There’s no damage done,’ Colm said, watching her.
‘Not to the car, anyway,’ she attempted a joke, patting the bonnet. She always felt embarrassed. At least once a week there was some sort of incident involving the gardaí and although they were never anything but professional and polite about the situation, she couldn’t help feeling ashamed. She would work even harder in their presence to appear ‘normal’ just to prove that it wasn’t her fault, and that it wasn’t the entire family that was nuts. She wiped down the splashes of dried mud with a tissue.
Colm smiled at her sadly. ‘She was arrested, Elizabeth.’
Elizabeth’s head shot up, now fully alert. ‘Colm,’ she said, shocked, ‘why?’ They had never done that before. They had always just warned Saoirse off and then dropped her back to wherever she was staying. Unprofessional, Elizabeth knew, but in such a small town where everyone knew everyone, they had always just kept their eye on Saoirse, stopping her before she did anything incredibly stupid. But Elizabeth feared Saoirse had been warned once too often.
Colm fidgeted with the navy-blue cap in his hands. ‘She was drink driving, Elizabeth, in a stolen car, and she doesn’t even have a licence.’
Hearing those words, Elizabeth shivered. Saoirse was a danger. Why did she keep protecting her sister? When would the words finally sink in and she’d accept that they were right: that her sister would never be the angel she wished her to be?
‘But the car wasn’t stolen,’ Elizabeth stammered, ‘I told her that she c—’
‘Don’t, Elizabeth.’ Colm’s voice was firm.
She had to hold her hand across her mouth to stop herself. She took a deep breath and tried to regain control. ‘She has to go to court?’ Her voice was a whisper.
Colm looked down at the ground and moved a stone with his foot. ‘Yes. It’s not just about her harming herself now. She’s a danger to others.’
Elizabeth swallowed hard and nodded. ‘One more chance, Colm,’ she gulped, feeling her pride disintegrating. ‘Just give her one more chance… please.’ The last word pained her to have to say. Every bone in her body pleaded with him. Elizabeth never asked for help. ‘I’ll keep an eye on her. I promise she won’t be out of my sight for a minute. She’s going to get better, you know. She just needs time to work things out.’ Elizabeth could feel her voice shaking. Her knees trembled as she begged on behalf of her sister.
There was a sad tone in Colm’s voice. ‘It’s already been done. We can’t change it now.’
‘What will the punishment be?’ She felt sick.
‘It depends on the judge on the day. It’s her first offence – well, her first known offence. 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 co-operative and gave no trouble it could make a difference, but then again…’
‘It might not,’ Elizabeth said worriedly. ‘Well? Did she co-operate?’
Colm laughed lightly. ‘Took two people to hold her down.’
‘Damn it!’ 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 so the fact that he had arrested her rendered Elizabeth speechless. She chewed nervously on the inside of her mouth and the taste of blood slid down her throat. She didn’t want people to start giving up on Saoirse.
‘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 realised she hadn’t been breathing for the last few seconds, 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’d better leave you at it so,’ Colm said gently, fixed
his cap back on his head, and he made his way down the cobbled 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… everyone 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, 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 doorframe, arms folded, and watched him. A small smile crept 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, 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 everyday she wished the maternal instincts 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.