that was why she didn’t have a group of friends. She had tried to be involved before, especially during her college days with her attempts to settle in, but, just as she did then, she would quickly tune out of the mindless nattering.
Since childhood she hadn’t pined for friendship. She liked her own company and liked her own thoughts, and then later, in her teens, she had Saoirse as a distraction. She liked the orderly way in which she could depend on herself and manage her time more effectively without friends. When she returned from New York she had tried to host a dinner party in her new home with the neighbours. She thought she would try a fresh beginning, try to make friendships, like most people did, but Saoirse as usual burst into the house and in one fell swoop managed to offend every single person at the table. She accused Ray Collins of having an affair, Bernie Conway of having a boob job and sixty-year-old Kevin Smith of looking at her in a sexual way. The result of Saoirse’s ranting and raving was a crying nine-month-old Luke, a few red faces at the table and a burned rack of lamb.
Of course her neighbours wouldn’t be as close-minded as to think that Elizabeth was responsible for her family’s behaviour, but she gave up after that. She didn’t desire company enough to be able to cope with the embarrassment of having to explain and apologise all the time.
Her silence was worth more to her than a thousand words. In that silence she had peace and clarity. Apart from during the night, when her own jumbled thoughts would keep her awake, sounding like a thousand voices jumping in, out and interrupting each other so much that she could barely close her eyes.
She was worried about Luke’s behaviour right now. This Ivan character had been hanging around her nephew’s head for too long. She had watched Luke all weekend walking, talking and playing games by himself. Laughing and giggling as though he were having the time of his life. Maybe there was something she should be doing. And Edith wasn’t there to witness his odd behaviour and deal with it in the wonderful way she always succeeded in doing. Perhaps Elizabeth was supposed to know automatically what to do. Once again the mysteries of motherhood reared their ugly head and she had no one to ask for advice. Nor had she any example to learn from. Well, that wasn’t strictly true – she had learned what not to do, a lesson just as good as any. So far she had followed her gut instinct, had made a few mistakes along the way, but overall thought Luke had turned out to be a polite and stable child. Or maybe she was doing it all wrong. What if Luke ended up like Saoirse? What had she done so wrong with Saoirse as a child that had caused her to turn out the way she was? Elizabeth groaned with frustration and rested her head on her desk.
She turned on her computer and sipped on her coffee while it loaded. Then she went to Google, typed in the words ‘imaginary friend’, and hit Search. Hundreds of sites came up on her screen. Thirty minutes later she felt much better about the Ivan situation.
To her surprise she learned that imaginary friends were very common and not a problem as long as they didn’t interfere with normal life. Although the very fact that having an imaginary friend was a direct interference with normal life, it didn’t seem to be an issue with the online doctors. Site after site told her to ask Luke what Ivan was thinking and doing as it would be a positive way of giving Elizabeth an understanding into what Luke was thinking. They encouraged Elizabeth actually to set a place for their phantom dinner guest and that there was no need to point out that Luke’s ‘friend’ existed only in his imagination. She was relieved to learn that imaginary friends were a sign of creativity and not of loneliness or stress.
But even so, this was going to be difficult for Elizabeth to grasp. It went against everything she believed. Her world and the land of make-believe existed on two very different plains and she found it difficult to play-act. She couldn’t make baby noises to an infant, she couldn’t pretend to hide behind her hands or give life or a voice to a teddy, she couldn’t even role-play at college. She had grown up knowing not to do that, not to sound like her mother for fear of her father getting mad. It was instilled in her from an early age but now the experts were telling her to change all that.
She finished the last of her cold coffee and read the final line on the screen.
Imaginary friends disappear within three months, whether or not you encourage them.
After three months she would be more than glad to see the back of Ivan and return to normal life again. She flicked through her calendar and circled August with a red marker. If Ivan wasn’t out of her house by then, she’d open the door and show him the way herself.
Ivan laughed as he spun around in the black leather chair at the reception desk outside Elizabeth’s office. He could hear her in the other room on the phone, organising a meeting using her boring grown-up voice. But as soon as she hung up the phone he heard her humming his song again. He laughed to himself. It definitely was addictive; once you got the tune in your head there was very little you could do to stop.
He swirled himself round in the chair faster and faster, doing pirouettes on wheels until his stomach danced and his head began to throb. He decided that chair spinning was his absolute favourite. Ivan knew that Luke would have loved to play the spin-the-chair game and, on picturing his sad little face pressed up against the car window from earlier that morning, his mind drifted and the chair slowed. Ivan wanted so much to visit the farm, and Luke’s granddad looked like he could do with a bit of fun. He was similar to Elizabeth in that way. Two boring old gnirobs.
Anyway, at least this separation gave Ivan time to monitor Elizabeth so he could write a report on her. He had a meeting in a few days and would have to give a presentation to the rest of the team about who he was working with at the moment. They did it all the time. A few more days with her to prove that she couldn’t see him would be enough and then he could get back to concentrating on Luke. Maybe there was something he was missing with him, despite his years of experience.
As Ivan’s head began to get dizzy he put his foot down on the floor to stop. He decided to leap from the whirling chair so he could pretend he was jumping from a moving car. He rolled dramatically across the floor just like they did in the movies and looked up from where he was crouched in a ball to see a teenage girl standing before him open-mouthed, watching her office chair spin out of control.
Ivan saw her look around the office to see if anyone else was present. She frowned, approached the desk as if she were walking on landmines and placed her bag on the desk ever so quietly as if afraid to disturb the chair. She looked to see if anyone was watching and then tiptoed over to study it. She held out her hands as though trying to tame a wild horse.
Ivan chuckled.
Seeing that nothing was wrong Becca scratched her head in wonder. Perhaps Elizabeth had been sitting in the chair before she came in. She smirked at the thought of Elizabeth swinging around like a child, hair tied back tightly, dressed in one of her sharp black suits with her sensible shoes dangling in the air. No, the picture didn’t fit. In Elizabeth’s world chairs were made to be sat on. So that’s exactly what Becca did and got to work immediately.
‘Good morning, everyone,’ a high-pitched voice sang from the door later that morning. A plum-haired Poppy danced into the room, dressed in denim flares embroidered with flowers, platform shoes and a tie-dyed T-shirt. As usual, every inch of her body was splashed with paint. ‘Everyone have a nice weekend?’ She was always singing her sentences and dancing about the room, flinging her arms around with all the grace of an elephant.
Becca nodded.
‘Great.’ Poppy stood in front of Becca with her hands on her hips. ‘What did you do, Becca, join a debating team? Go out on a date and talk the ear off some bloke?
