The Book of Tomorrow by Cecelia Ahern Read Free Book Online Page A

had greeted me each morning over the previous two weeks. That sight was a dark cave-like room, and buried somewhere beneath the duvet would be Mum. But I was pleasantly surprised that morning. Her room was even brighter than mine—a kind of buttery yellow that was fresh and clean. Her vase on the windowsill was filled with buttercups and dandelions, long green grasses all tied together in yellow ribbon. Her room must have been directly above the living room as there was an open fireplace along the wall with a photograph of the Pope above it, which made me shudder. Not the Pope—I’d rather Zac Efron were on my wall—it was the fire that made me uncomfortable. I’ve just never liked them. The fireplace had white moulding with black inside, and it looked as though it had had plenty of use, which I thought was weird for a spare bedroom. They must have had a lot of guests, though they didn’t strike me as the sociable entertaining type. Then I noticed the en suite and realised Rosaleen and Arthur must have given Mum their bedroom.
    Mum was sitting in a white rocking chair, not rocking, and she was facing the window, which looked out over the back garden. Her hair was pinned back neatly, she was dressed in an apricot-coloured floaty silk robe and she was wearing the same pink lipstick she’d had on since the day of Dad’s funeral. She wore a small smile, so tiny, but it was there, and she looked like she was intently studying yesterday. When I came near her, she looked up and her smile grew.
    ‘Good morning, Mum.’ I gave her a kiss on her forehead and sat down beside her on the edge of her already made bed. ‘Did you sleep well?’
    ‘Yes, thank you,’ she said happily, and my heart lifted.
    ‘I did too,’ I realised as I spoke. ‘It’s so quiet here, isn’t it?’ I decided not to mention anything about Rosaleen being in my bedroom last night, in case I’d dreamed it. It would be so embarrassing to accuse somebody of that, at least until I had further evidence.
    ‘Yes, it is,’ Mum said again.
    We sat together looking out into the back garden. In the middle of the one-acre garden stood an oak tree, its branches veering out in all directions, just begging to be climbed. A beautiful tree, it rose up to the sky grandly, filled with green. It was sturdy and solid and I understood why Mum kept looking at it. It was safe and secure, and if it had stood there for a few hundred years, you could trust it was going to stay there for a bit longer. Stability in our rocky lives right now. A robin hopped from one branch to the other, seeming excited to have the entire tree to itself, like a child who was playing musical chairs alone. That was something I’d never have looked at before either: a tree with a bird. And even if I’d seen it, I’d never have compared it to a child who was playing musical chairs alone. Zoey and Laura would seriously have a problem with me. I was beginningto have problems with me. Thinking of them gave me pangs for home.
    ‘I don’t like it here, Mum,’ I finally said, and realised my voice shook and I was close to tears. ‘Can’t we stay in Dublin? With friends?’
    Mum looked at me and smiled warmly. ‘Oh, we’ll be okay here. It will all be okay.’
    I was so relieved to hear her say that, to hear the strength, the confidence, the leadership I needed.
    ‘But how long are we going to stay here? What’s our plan? Where am I going to school in September? Can I still go to St Mary’s?’
    Mum looked away from me then, keeping her smile but gazing out of the window. ‘We’ll be okay here. It will all be okay.’
    ‘I know, Mum,’ I said, getting frustrated but trying to keep my tone soft. ‘You just said that, but for how long?’
    She was quiet.
    ‘Mum?’ My tone hardened.
    ‘We’ll be okay here,’ she repeated. ‘It will all be okay.’
    I’m a good person, but only when I want to be, and so I leaned up close to her ear and just as I was about to say something so truly