What Not to Do If You Turn Invisible
From the author of the unforgettable bestseller TIME TRAVELLING WITH A HAMSTER comes another surprising, beautiful and funny novel about a child who, by disappearing, will write herself into your heart forever…Turning invisible at will: it’s one way of curing your acne. But far more drastic than 13 year-old Ethel Leatherhead intended when she tried a combination of untested medicines and a sunbed.It’s fun at first, being invisible. And aided by her friend Boydy, she manages to keep her extraordinary ability secret. Or does she…?When one day the invisibility fails to wear off, Ethel is thrown into a nightmare of lies and deception as she struggles to keep herself safe, to find the remedy that will make her seen again – and solve the mystery of her own birth…
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First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2017
HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd,
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Copyright © Ross Welford 2017
All rights reserved.
Cover design © HarperCollins Publishers 2017
Cover illustration © Tom Clohosy Cole
Ross Welford asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of the work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
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Source ISBN: 9780008156350
Ebook Edition © 2016 ISBN: 9780008156367
Version: 2016-12-02
To Mum, with love
Contents
Just before I fell asleep, I could see myself. I was visible, and I knew who I was.
That was before.
I’m not sure what actually wakes me: the brightness of the sunbed’s UV tubes, or Lady nudging her food bowl by the door between the hallway and the garage.
The purplish lights are so bright that even when I screw my eyes up they are still blinding me.
Have I been asleep?
Why didn’t the timer go off?
How long have I been here?
Crowding out those questions, though, is one main thing and that is how thirsty I am. My tongue’s not even sticking to my mouth, but scratching around inside it. I summon up enough spit to at least get everything working.
I have lifted up the lid of the sunbed and swung my legs over the side. There’s a little pool of sweat – perspiration, Gram would say – left where I’ve been lying. I’m still blinded by the lights and I’m blinking hard but – and this is strange – blinking doesn’t seem to make anything go dark, although there are spots and flashes going off behind my eyes.
With one hand, I grope for the switch on the side of the sunbed, and off go the lights.
That’s better, but only a bit. I still feel awful. I have a stinging headache and I sit for a while.
I should have tested the timer first. As I watch it, the old digital clock on the garage wall flips from 11.04 to 11.05 a.m.
Oh. My. God.
I’ve been under those lights for, like, an hour and a half. Hello, sunburn! Pale skin, red hair (well, auburn), galloping acne and severe sunburn: what a combination.
I stare ahead, letting my eyes become accustomed to the dusty gloom of the garage. There’s the old rolled-up hallway carpet, my kiddie bike that somehow we haven’t chucked away yet, some cardboard boxes of clothes for the church, and raindrops spattering the single narrow window in the door that leads to the back garden.
Probably twenty, even thirty seconds have gone by since I woke up.
Then my phone rings. I look down at it lying on the garage floor and see that it is Elliot flamin’ Boyd – which is not his full name, obviously. I’m not often in the mood to talk to him, so I reach down to switch my phone to silent and let it go to voicemail.
