Free If You Could See Me Now by Cecelia Ahern

sat firmly on his head, a blackthorn cane in his right hand kept him steady, and silver-gray stubble decorated his face and chin. His eyebrows were gray and wild and when he frowned they seemed to cover his gray eyes completely. His nose commanded his face with large nostrils filled with gray hairs. Deep wrinkles cracked his face, his hands were as big as shovels, shoulders as wide as the Gap of Dunloe. He dwarfed the bungalow that stood behind him.
    Luke stopped humming as soon as he saw his grandfather and brought his arm back into the car. Elizabeth pulled the car up and as soon as the engine was off she jumped out of the car. She had a plan. As soon as Luke climbed out of the car she shut the car door and locked it quickly before he had a chance to hold the seat forward and make way for Ivan. Luke’s face crumpled again as he looked from Elizabeth back to the car.
    The gate outside the bungalow creaked.
    Elizabeth’s stomach churned.
    “Morning,” a deep voice boomed. It wasn’t a greeting. It was a statement.
    Luke’s lower lip trembled and he pressed his face and hands up against the glass of the backseat of the car. Elizabeth hoped he wouldn’t throw a tantrum now.
    “Aren’t you going to say good morning to your granddad, Luke?” Elizabeth asked sternly, fully aware that she herself had yet to acknowledge him.
    “Hi, Granddad.” Luke’s voice wobbled. His face remained pressed against the glass.
    Elizabeth contemplated opening the car door for him, just to avoid a scene, but thought better of it. He needed to get over this phase.
    “Where’s th’other one?” Brendan’s voice boomed.
    “The other what?” She took Luke’s hand and tried to turn him away from the car. His blue eyes looked pleadingly into hers. Her heart sank. He knew better than to cause a scene.
    “The young lad who knew about them foreign veg.”
    “Ivan,” Luke said sadly, his blue eyes welling up.
    Elizabeth jumped in. “Ivan couldn’t come today, isn’t that right, Luke? Maybe another day,” she said quickly and before it could be discussed any further. “Right, I better go to work or I’ll be late. Luke, have a good day with your granddad, OK?”
    Luke looked at her uncertainly and nodded.
    Elizabeth hated herself, but she knew she was right in controlling this ludicrous behavior.
    “Off you go so.” Brendan swung his blackthorn cane at her as if to dismiss her and he turned his back to face the bungalow. The last thing she heard was the gate creaking before she slammed her car door shut. She had to reverse twice down the road in order to let two tractors pass. From her mirror, she could see Luke and her father in the front garden, her father towering over him. She couldn’t get away from the house fast enough; it was as though the flow of traffic kept pulling her back to it, like the tide.
    Elizabeth remembered the moment when she was eighteen when she thrived on the freedom of such a view. For the first time in her life, she was leaving the bungalow with her bags packed and with the intention of not coming back until Christmas. She was going to Cork University, after winning the battle with her father, but in turn losing all respect he ever had for her. Instead of sharing in her excitement, he had refused to see her off on her big day. The only figure standing outside the bungalow Elizabeth could see that bright August morning as they drove away was that of six-year-old Saoirse, her red hair in messy pigtails, her smile toothless in places yet broad and wide, with her arm waving frantically good-bye, full of pride for her big sister.
    Instead of the relief and excitement she had always dreamed of feeling when the taxi finally pulled away from her home, breaking the umbilical cord that held her there, she felt dread and worry. Not for what lay ahead, but for what she was leaving behind. Elizabeth couldn’t mother Saoirse forever, she was a young woman who needed to be set free, who needed to find her own place in