Time to Say Goodbye: a heart-rending novel about a father’s love for his daughter. S.D. Robertson
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.
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