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Kitabı oku: «Time to Say Goodbye», sayfa 4

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CHAPTER 7

I don’t want to talk much about what happened in the crematorium, other than to say it was horrible. Arthur had been right to warn me about how my family might react. I’d not realized how much everyone had been bottling up their feelings so far – particularly Mum and Dad – until they came flooding out in a torrent of tears at the end of the short service in the chapel. As hard as it was to witness, I was at least prepared for it with Ella, Mum and Lauren. I wasn’t expecting to see Dad cry. That sight caught me completely unawares. He’d never been a man to show much emotion and was usually the family’s pillar of strength. So watching him lose control like that – so vulnerable, so human – was horrendous.

I don’t know whether my body was burned straight afterwards or not. Previously, I’d worried that I might somehow feel the flames eating away at my flesh, but such fears paled into insignificance once I witnessed my family’s suffering. Whenever the cremation did happen, I wasn’t aware of it. I felt no physical sensation at all.

Arthur found me as the others were getting ready to head back to my parents’ house for the wake. I was still sitting on the front pew, shell-shocked. ‘The worst is over now, lad,’ he said gently. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Dreadful. Totally drained. That was far worse than I expected. Seeing them all like that, I can’t help blaming myself for what happened. I keep thinking that if I’d not taken my bike that day, or if I’d left a couple of minutes earlier, or if I’d worn a cycle helmet—’

‘Stop. Don’t do that to yourself. It wasn’t your fault. Sometimes terrible things happen. You can’t beat yourself up about it. That won’t change anything and it won’t help anyone. Come on, let’s get out of here. I’ll take you to the wake.’

He made to grab my hand, but I stopped him. ‘Wait. Is there any chance we could go somewhere else first? Somewhere peaceful where I can get my head together.’

‘Of course,’ he said. I blinked and we were back on the bench overlooking the churchyard where he’d found me earlier. ‘How’s this?’

‘Perfect. Thank you.’

‘No problem. Listen, I have to go now. I’ve got some business I need to attend to. Can you manage to make your own way to your parents’ house?’

‘Oh, um … yes, it’s only a two-minute walk. But I was hoping to talk with you some more. I’ve got a million questions.’

‘Another day. Give me a shout. And well done, lad. I mean that.’

‘Thanks. How do I—’

Before I could finish, Arthur had gone.

‘Great,’ I said. ‘Another one with the sudden exits.’

I stayed on the bench, enjoying the silence, for some time. My mind drifted back to Alice’s funeral again. I wondered if she had been around like this – watching me grieve and beg forgiveness for how I’d betrayed her – or whether she’d moved on straight away. I still missed her terribly. I remembered the raw pain I’d felt at the time; the hopelessness and sense of injustice. Was that how my family were feeling now?

My pain over losing Alice had never gone away. I’d gradually learned to cope with it and the initial angry intensity had faded, but going through that wasn’t something I’d wish on my worst enemy. It was caring for Ella that had kept me together. At the time, having to cope with that on top of everything else had seemed impossibly unfair. But that routine – that purpose – was what stopped me falling into a bottomless pit of hopelessness and self-pity. I realized that a part of my wife was able to live on through Ella. Her appearance and many little things she did reminded me of Alice: from the way her nose crinkled up when she laughed to the stubborn streak I could already see forming in her personality. She was an intelligent little girl too. I could picture her following in her mother’s footsteps as a dentist. That or some other equally prestigious career.

I was surprised – and touched – to see Alice’s parents in the congregation at my funeral. Margaret and Ron lived in Spain these days, so I hadn’t expected them to make the trip. Mind you, they’d always been good about keeping in touch with their granddaughter. They made an effort to see her at least twice a year and gave generous gifts on her birthday and at Christmas. She would never be as close to them as she was to my parents, but at least they were still in her life.

The sound of a car starting up jerked my mind back to the present. I’d assumed everyone from the funeral had gone by now and I’d not seen anyone visiting any of the graves, so I wondered who it might be. I stood up and walked to where the car park was visible. A black Audi with tinted windows was turning round. It looked like the same car I’d seen lingering outside my house the other day, which bothered me. Instinctively, I ran towards it.

Hey,’ I shouted. ‘Who are you? What do you want?’

But the car pulled away before I could reach it. I continued my pursuit as it stopped to turn on to the main road, but again it drove off before I caught up. I watched it disappear into the distance. ‘Damn,’ I said. ‘Who the hell is that?’

I headed to my parents’ place: the roomy four-bedroom detached house that I’d grown up in. It was located on a quiet, leafy street full of similar homes, all built in the early 1970s. There were lots of cars parked outside and I could see the silhouettes of countless visitors sipping drinks in the front room. The front door was shut, but at the back I found the patio doors open and Dad lighting a large cigar with his friend Larry, who lived two doors along.

‘The church service was lovely,’ Larry was saying. ‘A fitting send-off. Everyone said so. How did it go at the crematorium?’

‘Oh, you know,’ Dad replied, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke. ‘As well as could be expected.’ He’d regained his composure but had a vacant, exhausted look about him. ‘Thanks for your help with the catering, Larry. Ann and I appreciate it.’

‘You’re welcome. Sylvia did most of the work, anyway. You’ll let us know if there’s anything else we can do, won’t you?’

‘Yes. Thanks. You’re good friends.’

‘Are you staying here tonight with Ella?’

‘That’s the plan. We’ll be moving her here full time in the next few days. We were concerned about uprooting her so soon, but we’ve had several chats with her and she seems okay about it. She’s stayed here plenty of times before and I think it helps knowing that her dad grew up here.’

‘Poor thing. First her mother and now her father. No child should have to go through that.’

‘I know. I’m amazed she’s coping as well as she is. God knows what’s going on inside that little head of hers.’

Larry nodded, slowly puffing on his cigar. ‘It only seems five minutes ago that Will was that age, asking for his ball from our garden. He was such a polite lad. Always had plenty to chat about. Ella’s the same, isn’t she? Sylvia and I were only saying the other day how well she talks. She’s a real credit to her father.’

‘She is that.’

‘Any news about what’s going to happen to the, um, driver?’

‘She’s been charged with causing death by dangerous driving. That’s good, as we had feared she might only face death by careless driving, which is less serious. But there’s still a long road ahead. She’ll only plead guilty to the lesser offence, so there will have to be a full trial. It could be a year before it gets to the crown court.’

‘A year? That’s ridiculous.’

‘It may be less, but I’m not holding my breath.’

‘Will she go to prison?’

‘If she’s found guilty. The top penalty’s fourteen years, although I doubt she’d get anything like that. It would be four years at the most, I reckon.’

I generally tried not to think about the crash and the woman who’d caused it, because it made my blood boil yet achieved nothing. Where was she today when my body was burning? I wondered. But I didn’t let the thought process go any further. Instead I moved inside, away from the conversation, and forced myself to refocus.

The dining room and lounge were bustling with people, which I found uncomfortable, especially since I was the topic on most of their lips. I darted into each room, carefully wending my way between bodies to avoid getting repelled, but Ella was nowhere to be seen. I could hear Mum’s voice coming from the kitchen, so I made that my next port of call. She was in there pouring drinks with Alice’s mother, Margaret, and Larry’s wife, Sylvia.

‘Why don’t you go and mingle, Ann?’ Sylvia said. ‘I can take care of this.’

‘Don’t be silly,’ Mum replied. ‘You’ve already done more than enough. This is my house. I’m not going to sit around and watch other people do all the work at my son’s wake. It wouldn’t be right.’

‘I’ll stay and help Sylvia,’ Margaret said. ‘She’s right. You shouldn’t feel like you have to do everything. I know how awful you must be feeling right now. I remember what I was like after Alice—’

‘I said I’m fine,’ Mum snapped, promptly bursting into tears.

As the other two rallied round to comfort her, I left to continue my hunt for Ella. It was too distressing to see Mum like that – and it wasn’t like I could do anything to help her. I narrowly avoided bumping into Xander in the hall. He’d just returned from walking the dog and was busy hanging up his coat and changing his shoes. Sam started barking at me. He strained at his lead, nearly toppling my brother-in-law in the process. Xander, who managed to hold on to him with one finger, said something aggressive-sounding in Dutch, which I assumed was a request for him to shut up.

‘Hello, boy,’ I said to Sam, glad of the attention. ‘So you’re interested in me again, are you? How did you get here? I thought you were still at my place. Did Xander go and pick you up?’

He continued barking.

‘Hmm. Unfortunately, I’ve no idea what that means, Sam. It’s ironic, considering you’re the only one who has any idea that I’m here.’

He barked again.

‘Where’s Ella, boy? I can’t find her?’

Sam switched to growling.

‘Charming. I’ll check upstairs, shall I?’

Before reaching the landing I heard the sound of my daughter’s pain through the closed door of her new bedroom. Of course I’d heard her cry countless times before – from urgent tears after falling and grazing her knees to crocodile tears over not getting her own way. But this was different. It was a terrible low-pitched wail of despair. Such a bleak, battered sound had no business coming from the throat of a child.

My parental instinct kicked in. I needed to take her in my arms and comfort her; to soothe her pain. Yet already, as I raced to her door, I knew that wasn’t possible. If I could just get close to her, I thought, to stand by her side and whisper some comforting words. But no. A newly varnished door stood in my way, firmly shut and – despite being flimsy enough for me to have punched a hole in as a teenager – as secure as a bank vault from me now.

I lay down and stretched out on the light green carpet of the landing, putting one ear to the small gap at the base of the door. I could hear that gut-wrenching sound more clearly now, but also, thankfully, the quiet voice of my sister. At least that meant Ella wasn’t alone.

‘That’s right. Let it all out,’ I heard Lauren say. ‘You’ve been such a brave girl, but sometimes you need to have a good cry. That’s how you deal with your emotions.’

The crying continued for some time, but it gradually began to fade as Lauren’s calm words soothed her niece. Eventually it was little more than a sob. I heard someone climbing the stairs and quickly rolled away from the door when I saw Xander approach.

‘Lauren?’ he called. ‘Are you in there?’

‘I’m with Ella,’ she replied through the door. ‘Give us a second.’

Xander waited silently in front of the bedroom door, oblivious to my presence as I got up from the floor and stood next to him. ‘All right, big guy?’ I said. ‘Ella’s not doing so well. Lauren’s been comforting her.’

Lauren opened the door and beckoned her husband inside. She whispered something to him in Dutch as I slipped past. Ella was lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling through puffy red eyes. I knelt down next to her.

‘My gorgeous girl. You poor thing. Today must have been hell for you. I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner. I wanted to, but I was stuck on the landing. Are you feeling a bit better?’

No sooner had I said that than a strange thing happened. Ella jerked her head in my direction and stared straight at the spot where I was kneeling, her eyes screwed up quizzically. She slowly sat up in bed, keeping her gaze directed at me.

‘Ella?’ I said. ‘Can you see me? Can you hear me? Don’t be scared. It’s Daddy.’

‘What’s the matter, Ella?’ Lauren said after looking away from Xander and noticing her trance-like pose. She called her name again, more firmly, and Ella blinked twice before giving her head a little shake and turning towards her auntie.

‘What?’

‘I asked you what was wrong, because you were staring at the wall. What were you looking at?’

‘I don’t know. I’m not sure. I thought I—’

‘Is everything all right?’ Dad said, bursting through the door. ‘We were wondering where you’d got to.’

‘We’re fine, Dad,’ Lauren replied. ‘Ella and I were just having a time-out. We’ll be down soon.’

‘Good. I thought I’d best check up on you, that’s all. Are you okay, Xander?’

‘Yes, Tom. You?’

‘Fine. Thanks for picking up Sam, by the way. I appreciate it.’

‘Ella?’ I said. ‘You could sense me before, couldn’t you? Can you hear me now? Look this way again if you can.’

But she didn’t. She gave no sign that she could sense me at all. The moment was gone; the spell broken.

‘Come on!’ I shouted. ‘This isn’t fair. Why can’t any of you see that I’m right here?’ I ran from person to person, screaming in each of their faces, waving my hands wildly in front of their eyes. ‘Why can’t you see me? The bloody dog can do it, for God’s sake. Why can’t you?’

Finally I knelt down again by Ella’s bed, holding my hands up in supplication. ‘Please, darling. Please give me something more. I know you could sense me just now. I’m so lonely here without you, Ella. I’m begging you.’

But it was futile. As far as my family was concerned, I was gone. I no longer existed.

I suppose I ought to have taken strength from the fact that Ella had sensed me again. It was, after all, my first sign of a breakthrough since the time she’d answered me in her sleep. For some reason, though, it had the opposite effect. I felt dejected, like there was no point in going on. The whole being dead thing seemed far more real – and final – now the funeral was over. The only definite in my future was Lizzie’s deadline.

CHAPTER 8
THIRTY-NINE DAYS LEFT

I sank into depression and the days slipped by. Lauren and Xander returned to the Netherlands and Ella moved in with Mum and Dad. I went too and kept trying to get through to her, but my heart wasn’t in it. I made no progress and, although I thought about seeking Arthur’s advice, I couldn’t motivate myself to find him. I felt paralysed. Then one rainy morning, when Mum and Dad had taken Ella to school and I was alone in my childhood home, something snapped. It dawned on me that more than three weeks had passed since my funeral. There were just five and a half weeks left now until my deadline. Then I would have to decide whether to stay or go forever.

Despite what I’d told Lizzie, I knew deep down that there was a serious choice to make. It was hard to admit, as I was desperate to stay here with Ella, but I knew I had to at least consider the idea of moving on if things didn’t change. The problem was that I had no idea who or what I might find on the other side. Nor did I know the full implications of staying here for all eternity as a spirit. A paranoid part of me wondered whether I could take Lizzie’s word as gospel truth. What if she wasn’t who she said she was? That might explain her unhelpfulness. Then I recalled Arthur saying she’d asked him to attend my funeral. Perhaps I couldn’t trust him either.

Stop being ridiculous, I thought, reminding myself of Arthur’s support. He was the closest thing I had to a friend in this in-between world I occupied. I needed to contact him and, with the clock ticking, now was as good a time as any. So as soon as Mum and Dad returned home and I was able to slip out, I walked to the church. I found Arthur under the lych gate, sheltering from the rain.

‘Hello, lad. How are you doing? I expected to hear from you sooner.’

‘Hello, Arthur. I let things get on top of me for a bit, but I’m here now. I’ve got a lot of questions. Any chance we could have a chat?’

‘Of course. Let’s get somewhere a bit drier.’

He held out his hand and, as soon as I took it, we appeared together on a pew inside the empty church.

‘Hold on,’ I said. ‘Why did you want to get out of the rain? Why were you hiding from it under the lych gate?’

‘It’s coming down quite hard, in case you hadn’t noticed.’

‘I had, but only because I can see it. I can’t feel it at all. I can’t feel anything. Can you?’

‘That’s an interesting question,’ Arthur replied. ‘The answer is complicated.’

‘I’m in no rush.’

‘No. I don’t suppose you are. I assume you have other things to ask too.’

‘I do.’

‘Okay. How about I start by summing up all the important stuff? You listen and then, afterwards, you can fire away with any questions you’ve still got. What do you say?’

‘That sounds good.’

‘Excellent. I’m not sure how much you’ve already been told, but I’m guessing not a lot, so I’ll start with the basics. When we die, our souls are released from our bodies. It’s the same for all humans. What differs is where they go to next, which depends on what each person got up to during their life. Some are invited upstairs and some go downstairs.’

‘Heaven and Hell?’

‘Essentially, although those are just names. I prefer not to use them any more. The reality of what happens after we die isn’t as simple as folk like to think.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘Well, look at you and me – detached spirits in the land of the living. Where do we fit into Christian doctrine?’ Arthur ran one hand through his white hair. ‘It’s only the really bad apples who go downstairs. The rest get another chance, although I’m not the one to tell you about what happens up there. I’m as clueless as you on that score.’

‘How—’

‘Bear with me, lad. Listen now; ask questions later. The big difference is that the bad apples don’t get any say. Their souls are marched away – and that’s it. The option to stay here is strictly an upstairs thing. You’ve earned the right to retain your free will. Hence you get to choose whether you want to move on or not. Most do, of course. Otherwise, there would be spirits walking around all over the place. How long do you have left to decide?’

‘Until December the twelfth.’

‘That’s generous. The situation with your daughter has obviously been taken into account. Anyway, I’m sure it’s already been made clear to you that, should you choose to stay after that point, there’s no second chance. You’ll be stuck here for good.’

‘Like you?’

‘Yes, like me.’

‘Why—’

‘Later. Let me finish. You asked if I could feel anything. Well, yes, some things. Not like I could when I was alive, but to a degree. How to describe it? I suppose it’s a bit like touching something when you’re wearing rubber gloves.’

He paused for a second before adding: ‘For you it’s like walking around in a bubble. Physically you can’t feel anything, yes?’

I nodded. ‘Apart from when I interact with you. Or Lizzie, my guide. That’s because you’re dead too, right?’

‘Exactly. The rest of it – that’s because you’re a visitor. You’re here on a kind of guest pass, which only affords certain privileges. You get more freedom if you choose to stay for good.’

‘So you can touch? You can open doors and move things around? You can interact with people?’

‘Hold your horses. I didn’t say that. I said I could feel some things, such as the rain. It’s more of a reminder, an echo, than a proper sensation. I don’t actually get wet or cold or anything like that, although I do find the rain a bit unpleasant. It sort of … itches. But I’m still a spirit with no physical presence. I can’t occupy the same space as a living person any more than you can. Don’t kid yourself. It’s not like everything goes back to normal if you decide to stay. You’re still dead; all you get is a taste of what you used to have.’

‘But what about that transporting thing that you do?’

Arthur laughed. ‘Impressive, isn’t it? That’s one perk you do get as a permanent spirit – and it does help with staying out of folk’s way – but that’s pretty much it.’

‘What about communicating with people? You know how desperate I am to contact Ella.’

‘That’s a bit of a grey area. Officially, none of us are supposed to be able to communicate with the living, regardless of the permanency or otherwise of our status. However, that’s not to say it can’t happen. A lot depends on the living person involved: whether they’re tuned into that kind of thing or not and how strong a bond there is between them and the deceased.’

I recounted the two occasions on which Ella had appeared to sense me. ‘Does that mean there’s a chance of something more?’

‘Maybe. It’s definitely something to work with. The fact that she’s so young is likely to help. Children tend to be far more receptive than adults. Their minds aren’t cluttered with the kind of junk that blinkers most folk.’

‘So what next?’

‘If you’re a hundred per cent sure that you want to contact Ella; that it’s the right thing to do—’

I held up one hand to stop him. ‘Hang on a second. What does that mean? Why wouldn’t it be? She’s my only daughter. I disappeared without saying goodbye. First her mother and then me. She thinks I broke my promise never to leave her.’

‘Yes, I know that. But don’t forget that she’s just said goodbye to you. If this works – and there’s no guarantee it will – hearing from you now, from beyond the grave, will at the very least be confusing for her. You’ve had time to get used to what you are; she hasn’t. How often have you told her there are no such things as ghosts?’

He paused for a moment, his eyes widening as they stared deep inside me. ‘See what I mean? You’ll be messing with the normal grieving process and putting her through a whole new rollercoaster of emotions. I’m not saying it’s wrong. I’m simply warning you that if you go ahead with this, you need to do so with your eyes open. Be sure it’s the best thing for Ella.’

At that moment I heard a rattling from the back of the church, which startled me. ‘Looks like we’ve got company,’ Arthur said. ‘It’s probably the vicar. We don’t need him distracting us. Here, take my hand.’

I did as he asked and found myself inside a large wooden shed-like building. I looked around and saw a pile of cricket stumps and balls, a stack of hurdles, a rusty netball post and other sports equipment. There were no windows, but the gloomy day outside peeked in through two water-streaked skylights. Rain was beating down on the roof.

‘Grab a seat,’ Arthur said, gesturing to a pile of mildew-flecked cricket pads as he plonked himself down on a ragged deckchair.

‘Where are we?’

‘Don’t you recognize it?’

Puzzled, I looked around again and the penny dropped. ‘Of course. The cricket pavilion.’

That had been the somewhat misleading title attributed to the storage shed on the sports field at my old primary school. ‘Do they still call it that?’

Arthur smiled. ‘They do, although it’s lucky to still be standing, if you ask me. The new caretaker doesn’t creosote it anywhere near often enough. It smells so damp these days.’

‘You can smell?’

‘Yes. Sorry, I didn’t mention that, did I? That comes back too if you stay. Again, it’s not the same as it was, but it’s better than nothing. It’s a bit like having a heavy cold the whole time.’

‘And taste? Do you get that back?’

Arthur laughed. ‘I wish. No, that’s gone for good, along with eating or drinking anything. The smell is the closest I get to food these days. Sometimes it kills me, getting a whiff of hot buttered toast or freshly brewed coffee. Bacon’s the worst, mind. I still get cravings after all these years. I used to love my food. Not that it did me any good. It was clogging up my arteries that caused the heart attack that killed me. That and the fags, although I don’t miss them at all – horrible things.’

‘Do you think you still get to eat and drink on the other side?’ I asked. ‘You know, if you pass over.’

‘I’ve often wondered that myself,’ Arthur replied. ‘I like to think you do; that you can eat whatever you like, whenever you like, as often as you like, with no negative consequences.’ He licked his lips. ‘Now that would be bliss.’

‘So why did you stay?’

He fell silent for a moment before replying: ‘I had my reasons. But don’t you think for a second that I chose not to go because of what it’s like over there. By all accounts it’s the most perfect place imaginable. I stayed here because I had to. It’s not something I’d recommend.’

‘It’s not all that bad, is it? You seem to be doing okay.’

He snorted. ‘Do you really want to pass the rest of your days watching the world go by around you? Haven’t you felt the loneliness yet?’

He stared at me, awaiting an answer. ‘Yes, I do feel it sometimes,’ I replied eventually.

‘It only gets worse,’ he said. ‘That horrible feeling of being invisible gradually eats away at you. It’s like you’ve lost your identity, your purpose, your self-worth. Many spirits over the years have let it get on top of them and lost their minds. Those are the ones that give us lot a bad name, carrying out the hauntings and so on. Maybe I’ll end up that way one day. I’ve come close before now.’

‘But don’t you keep each other company? Don’t you have any spirit friends?’

Arthur shook his head sadly. ‘Nice idea, lad, but it doesn’t work like that. Those of us that choose to stay all have our reasons for doing so. You could probably call them our obsessions. We each have our little corners of the world and we rarely stray from them. Being a spirit here is a solitary life.’

‘So what are you saying, Arthur? Is your advice to abandon my six-year-old daughter and take the elevator upstairs without looking back? That’s what you’d do, is it? This is bullshit. I thought you were here to help.’

‘Calm down, lad. I wouldn’t feel qualified to offer such advice. I’m simply laying out all the cards in front of you. I didn’t mean—’

Arthur stopped mid-sentence. His eyebrows crinkled into a look of concern and his pupils flicked from side to side as he appeared to listen for something.

‘What’s the matt—’ I started to ask before he held one finger up to his mouth.

‘Got to go,’ he whispered, looking backwards and then vanishing.

I rushed to my feet. ‘Arthur? Arthur? What the hell?’

A dark shadow fell across the skylights.

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Yaş sınırı:
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Hacim:
293 s. 6 illüstrasyon
ISBN:
9780008100681
Telif hakkı:
HarperCollins
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