I’ve sneaked downstairs – and, despite the fact that I am invisible, sneaking is much, much harder than you’d think. Lady is out in the backyard doing her morning wee. I have just sent Gram a text. I want to see her reaction.
I have left my phone at the top of the stairs. I pressed SEND and then hurried quietly downstairs, and I am there in the kitchen, standing in the doorway, when Gram’s phone goes ping with the incoming message.
She is sitting at the kitchen table, dressed in her smart work clothes, and she picks up her phone in her usual way: as if someone’s smeared something unmentionable on it.
She reads the message and purses her lips, but the rest of her face doesn’t really do anything.
Then her fingers move over the screen and she puts the phone to her ear. She’s calling me … and I’ve left my phone on the stairs.
As soon as I have the thought, I hear my ringtone loud and clear, and Gram is getting up. I dodge out of her way as she stomps up the stairs, where she glares at my phone ringing merrily.
Picking it up, she goes into my room, where she will see my slept-in bed.
Oh no, oh no. This is getting worse. Gram comes downstairs quickly (I’m already in the kitchen) and she picks up her phone again. Then she puts it down. My phone is in her other hand and she looks at it, then at hers, sheer bafflement clouding her face.
She goes back into the hallway.
‘Ethel?’ she calls up the stairs. ‘Ethel? Are you there?’
I’m on the point of just saying, ‘Gram! It’s me! I’m here, and I’m invisible!’ but her whole manner has been so brisk, no nonsense, and I am so terrified that I might be permanently invisible that I just can’t bring myself to do it.
Two minutes later, and Gram is out the door with both my phone and hers in her pocket. Lady gets left at home on Wednesdays because Carol the dog-sitter goes to college. I think Lady is getting used to invisible me. She hasn’t freaked out, at any rate.
I have to act quickly.