plonking his body back down onto the chaise longue. “I invented that song. Andrew Lloyd Webber, eat your heart out.”
Elizabeth continued working. She started humming again, then immediately stopped herself.
“You see, Poppy,” Ivan called into the other room, “I think Elizabeth can hear me.” He crossed his hands across his chest and twiddled his thumbs. “I think she can hear me very well. Isn’t that right, Elizabeth?”
“Christ almighty.” Elizabeth dropped the samples onto her desk. “Becca, is that you saying my name?”
“No.” Becca’s voice was barely audible.
Elizabeth’s face turned red and she felt flustered and embarrassed at looking a fool in front of her employees. Trying to assert control again, she called out sternly, “Becca can you get me a coffee from Joe’s?”
“Oh, by the way,” Ivan sang, enjoying himself, “don’t forget to tell her to take one of the mugs over with her. Joe will be pleased.”
“Oh.” Elizabeth snapped her fingers as though she’d just remembered something. “You might as well bring one of these with you.” She handed Becca a coffee mug. “Joe will be,” she paused and looked confused, “pleased.”
“Oh, she can hear me, all right.” Ivan laughed. “That self-commanding mind of hers just won’t allow her to admit it. Everything is black-and-white to her.” Then he added, “And beige. But I’m going to shake things up a bit around here and we are going to have some fun. Ever done that before, Elizabeth? Had fun?” His eyes danced with mischief.
He swung his legs off the chaise longue and jumped upright. He sat on the edge of Elizabeth’s desk and glanced at the printouts of the online information about imaginary friends. He tutted and shook his head. “No, you don’t believe all that gobbledygook, do you, Lizzie? Can I call you Lizzie?”
Elizabeth’s face flinched.
“Oh,” Ivan said gently, “you don’t like being called Lizzie, do you?”
Elizabeth swallowed softly.
He lay across the desk on top of all the carpet samples and rested his head on his hand. “Well, I’ve got news for you.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I’m real. And I’m not going anywhere until you open those eyes properly and see me.”
Elizabeth stopped fiddling with the paint charts and raised her eyes slowly. She looked around her office and then settled on staring straight ahead of her. For some reason, she felt calm, calmer than she had felt in a very long time. She was stuck in a trance, staring at nothing but unable to blink or look away, feeling surrounded by warmth and security.
Suddenly the door to her office sprang open, so quickly and forcefully that it caused the handle to crash against the wall. Elizabeth and Ivan jolted in fright.
“Oooh, well excuse me for interrupting the lovebirds,” Saoirse cackled from the door.
Ivan jumped off the desk.
Elizabeth, mystified by that statement but accustomed to being mystified by Saoirse, immediately started to tidy her desk, a natural panicked reflex to her at the unannounced arrival of her younger sister. She smoothed down her jacket and pushed her palms over her hair.
“Oh, don’t tidy up on my account.” Saoirse waved her hand dismissively, chewing quickly on a piece of gum. “You’re such a fusspot, you know, just chill. ” Her eyes moved up and down as she examined the area beside Elizabeth’s desk suspiciously. “So, aren’t you going to introduce me?”
Elizabeth examined her sister through narrow eyes. Saoirse made her nervous with her neurotic behavior and sporadic tantrums. Alcohol or no alcohol, Saoirse had always been the same—difficult. In fact, Elizabeth could hardly tell when she was drunk or not. Saoirse had never found herself, she had never grown into a personality or learned about who she was, what she wanted, what made her happy, or where she wanted to go in life. She still didn’t know. She was a concoction of personalities never allowed to develop.
Elizabeth continued working. She started humming again, then immediately stopped herself.
“You see, Poppy,” Ivan called into the other room, “I think Elizabeth can hear me.” He crossed his hands across his chest and twiddled his thumbs. “I think she can hear me very well. Isn’t that right, Elizabeth?”
“Christ almighty.” Elizabeth dropped the samples onto her desk. “Becca, is that you saying my name?”
“No.” Becca’s voice was barely audible.
Elizabeth’s face turned red and she felt flustered and embarrassed at looking a fool in front of her employees. Trying to assert control again, she called out sternly, “Becca can you get me a coffee from Joe’s?”
“Oh, by the way,” Ivan sang, enjoying himself, “don’t forget to tell her to take one of the mugs over with her. Joe will be pleased.”
“Oh.” Elizabeth snapped her fingers as though she’d just remembered something. “You might as well bring one of these with you.” She handed Becca a coffee mug. “Joe will be,” she paused and looked confused, “pleased.”
“Oh, she can hear me, all right.” Ivan laughed. “That self-commanding mind of hers just won’t allow her to admit it. Everything is black-and-white to her.” Then he added, “And beige. But I’m going to shake things up a bit around here and we are going to have some fun. Ever done that before, Elizabeth? Had fun?” His eyes danced with mischief.
He swung his legs off the chaise longue and jumped upright. He sat on the edge of Elizabeth’s desk and glanced at the printouts of the online information about imaginary friends. He tutted and shook his head. “No, you don’t believe all that gobbledygook, do you, Lizzie? Can I call you Lizzie?”
Elizabeth’s face flinched.
“Oh,” Ivan said gently, “you don’t like being called Lizzie, do you?”
Elizabeth swallowed softly.
He lay across the desk on top of all the carpet samples and rested his head on his hand. “Well, I’ve got news for you.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I’m real. And I’m not going anywhere until you open those eyes properly and see me.”
Elizabeth stopped fiddling with the paint charts and raised her eyes slowly. She looked around her office and then settled on staring straight ahead of her. For some reason, she felt calm, calmer than she had felt in a very long time. She was stuck in a trance, staring at nothing but unable to blink or look away, feeling surrounded by warmth and security.
Suddenly the door to her office sprang open, so quickly and forcefully that it caused the handle to crash against the wall. Elizabeth and Ivan jolted in fright.
“Oooh, well excuse me for interrupting the lovebirds,” Saoirse cackled from the door.
Ivan jumped off the desk.
Elizabeth, mystified by that statement but accustomed to being mystified by Saoirse, immediately started to tidy her desk, a natural panicked reflex to her at the unannounced arrival of her younger sister. She smoothed down her jacket and pushed her palms over her hair.
“Oh, don’t tidy up on my account.” Saoirse waved her hand dismissively, chewing quickly on a piece of gum. “You’re such a fusspot, you know, just chill. ” Her eyes moved up and down as she examined the area beside Elizabeth’s desk suspiciously. “So, aren’t you going to introduce me?”
Elizabeth examined her sister through narrow eyes. Saoirse made her nervous with her neurotic behavior and sporadic tantrums. Alcohol or no alcohol, Saoirse had always been the same—difficult. In fact, Elizabeth could hardly tell when she was drunk or not. Saoirse had never found herself, she had never grown into a personality or learned about who she was, what she wanted, what made her happy, or where she wanted to go in life. She still didn’t know. She was a concoction of personalities never allowed to develop.
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