Читать книгу What Not to Do If You Turn Invisible - Ross Welford, Ross Welford - Страница 28

I add some clothes to those I already have on. Socks and trainers, a polo-neck sweater that covers up my invisible throat, a long-sleeved hoodie, and already I’m looking slightly less weird – kind of like one of those headless shop dummies, if that qualifies as ‘less weird’.

In my bottom drawer is a pair of gloves, which leaves only my head to sort out.

There’s a plastic crate in the garage with old dressing-up gear. In it I find a sparkly wig from some school show I was in and a plastic mask with a clown’s face. I hate clowns, but still: it does the job. With the hood of my sweater up, I look like … what?

I look like some weird kid who’s decided to go around wearing a clown mask. Odd, definitely, but not totally mad.

I’m halfway to the front door in this get-up when my phone pings with an incoming text message.

From: Unknown Contact

Hi Ethel: Is now a good time 4 me to work on my beach bod? I’ll stay out of ur way. With you in 2 mins. Elliot

And there you have it, in one single text message, why Elliot Boyd grates on you so much. Pushy, presumptuous, in your face and a dozen other words that mean ‘total pain in the neck’ are all going through my head as my fingers compose a reply.

NO. Not a good time. Just on my way out. Try me later. Ethel

Why, why, why instead of saying ‘just on my way out’ did I not say, ‘I have gone out’? If I had, I could have pretended not to be in when the doorbell goes.

Which it does – seconds after I press ‘send’.

I’m in the hallway. I can see his outline in the front-door glass, I can even hear his phone when he gets my text, and then he sticks his fingers through the letter box and calls through the opening.

‘All right, Eff! Good job I caught you! Open the door, eh?’

What choice do I have?

I open the door.