‘Ella?’ I whispered.
No response, but that was hardly a surprise. She wouldn’t have been able to hear me even if she was still awake. I desperately hoped that might change tonight. But Arthur had warned me it might take some time. ‘It’s a gradual process,’ he’d said. ‘Think of it like tuning a radio into a station with a weak signal. You need a steady hand and plenty of patience.’
He had made much of the radio analogy, claiming it was all about focusing Ella’s brainwaves on the right frequency to see and hear me. ‘You’re still here, lad. You know that and I know that. Even your parents’ dog knows that. The problem is that you’re on a slightly different plane of existence, which is beyond most human folk’s perception. The spirit level, I call it. People sometimes get a glimpse of it, usually at moments of heightened emotion or when they’re not fully conscious. That’s probably what happened with Ella, which is a good start. Now you’ve got to get her locked on.’
‘So what do I do?’ I asked.
‘The best starting point I know of is sleep. That’s when the mind is most receptive.’
‘You’re saying I should talk to her when she’s asleep? I’ve done that plenty already, but there’s been no progress since that one time she said goodnight.’
‘Oh, I’m talking about much more than speaking to her. You need to get yourself into one of her dreams.’
Arthur’s words still fresh in my mind, I peered over the bed to see whether Ella was asleep. She seemed to be. She hadn’t moved for a while and her breathing was deep and steady. She was curled up on her side, face to the wall. Kitten, her favourite soft toy, was squeezed under her left arm. I crept up to the side of the bed and leaned over to get a closer look at her face. Her eyes were shut and the tip of her thumb was resting on the bottom lip of her open mouth. She looked so peaceful that I hesitated for a moment, wondering whether I ought to leave it until later.
No, just do it, I told myself. Don’t screw up your big chance of a breakthrough.
‘Please let this work,’ I whispered.
Carefully following Arthur’s instructions, I knelt at the side of the bed and placed the open palm of one of my hands on top of the other. I held them just above Ella’s head, closed my eyes and focused on my daughter. As Arthur had told me to, I tried to blank my mind of everything else. I pictured Ella standing there in front of me, eyes twinkling and that gappy smile she’d developed after losing her first few milk teeth. I imagined myself ruffling her beautiful blond curls before lifting her into a hug. I thought back to some of the best times we’d spent together, just the two of us: her wide-eyed face watching elephants at the zoo; waving goodbye on her first day at school; playing computer games together. But nothing happened.
My arms were aching, so I lowered them and opened my eyes. ‘Come on,’ I whispered. ‘This has to work. Don’t give up so easily.’
I was startled by a noise from behind me, which turned out to be Mum peeping around the open door, checking Ella was asleep. ‘Sweet dreams, darling,’ she said with a wistful smile before heading back downstairs.
I raised my arms and started the process again. Ella, Ella, Ella, I thought. Nothing else. Blank out everything else. It had the opposite effect at first, bringing other thoughts to the fore. They teased and tested me as they jostled for centre stage. Occasionally one would succeed for a moment, grabbing prominence and flooding my mind with distracting images. But as I kept calm and continued to focus on Ella, she grew and grew in my mind until there was no room for anything else.
I moved beyond images and memories to emotions. I focused on the sheer strength of my love for Ella: an iron bond that surpassed anything else I’d ever felt. I promised never to leave you and I haven’t, I thought. If only you knew I was here by your side, watching over you. If only …
The world appeared to fold in on itself, swallowing me whole. My stomach lurched. I was falling. I was upside down. I opened my eyes but everything was black. I panicked. Had something gone wrong?
‘No!’ I screamed. ‘Help me. Someone please help me. This isn’t supposed to be happening.’
I kept falling.
Down.
Down.
Down.
I could feel again. Things were brushing up against me as I tumbled. Plummeted.
Lower.
Lower.
Lower.
They made my skin crawl. Slimy. Wriggling. Alive? What was happening to me? Where was I going?
The darkness around me seemed to flex, to warp, to contract, to suck me in deeper and then to spit me back out. My stomach lurched again as I flew sideways, a cold wind rushing past my skin. I was terrified. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut and prayed for it to end.
It did.
I opened my eyes. It was still dark, but not like before. I was lying on a hard surface. There was a glimmer of light in the distance. As I pulled myself to my feet, the first thing I noticed was the cool, rough feel of the floor under my hands. It was some kind of stone. I could feel it, like when I was alive. I took a breath and grinned at the incredible sensation of cold air rushing into my lungs. There was a damp, fishy smell that shocked me at first with its intensity. I ran my hands along the rocky walls on either side of me and on the low ceiling above. Where was I? It felt like some kind of narrow cave, which my eyes confirmed as they adjusted to the dark and black became grey. Was that the sea I could hear in the distance? I headed towards the sound. Slowly the darkness lifted and stale air was replaced by a warm breeze. But it was a longer walk than I’d anticipated. More of a tunnel than a cave, the walls of my unfamiliar surroundings twisted and turned as the ceiling rose and fell. I had to lower myself to a crouch and wade through some shallow pools of tepid water before finally reaching the opening. Then I walked out on to a vast sandy beach. It was daytime and, although still in the shadow of a towering cliff, I could feel the intense heat of the sun pounding down like midsummer. Cornwall, I thought. This is like one of the beaches Ella and I visited in May when we stayed in Bude with Mum and Dad. The weather was just like this then – a mini heatwave – the beach awash with picnicking families and stripy windbreaks, damp dogs and surfer dudes. Now, in stark contrast, the expanse of sand was deserted.
I stepped forward into the sun, noticing for the first time that I was in different clothes: a pair of light chinos and a short-sleeved checked shirt. I kicked off my trainers and socks, eager to feel the warm sand between my toes, and strode to the choppy sea. The waves looked perfect for body boarding, I thought, until I rolled up my trouser legs and let the outgoing tide spill over my bare feet. I gasped at the chill. It focused my mind, which I realized had been seduced by this beautiful scene when I ought to have been questioning it. What is this place? What’s going on? I puzzled, scouring the scene with my eyes. Am I really inside Ella’s dream?
And then I saw it. Way in the distance along the sand: a pink blur. A feeling in my gut sent me running towards it.
I was still a few hundred yards away when I recognized what I was heading for and it made me run even faster. It was Ella’s princess castle: the play tent she’d brought to her new bedroom at Mum and Dad’s and in which she’d spent so much time since my death.
‘Ella?’ I screamed at the top of my lungs. ‘Are you there?’
Time slowed as I approached the tent and saw the door being unzipped from the inside by a little hand. Then my daughter’s head popped out and she beamed at me. ‘Daddy!’ she yelled, racing out on to the sand in her favourite red and white polka dot swimsuit.
She jumped into my arms and I pulled her into a huge hug. Our warm tears flowed together as I held her soft cheek against my own and took a deep breath of sea air, savouring the moment for as long as I could. Then, eventually, I placed her down on the sand and knelt in front of her so we were face to face.
‘Hello, my darling,’ I said, ruffling her curls before pulling her into another embrace. With one finger I wiped away the tears from under her swollen eyes and looked into them, their pale green beauty shining through the redness and reminding me of her mother.
‘I knew you’d come,’ she said.
‘Oh, Ella. I’ve missed you so much. You don’t know what it’s been like, watching you every day without you being able to see me.’
She screwed her face up, puzzled. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Sorry. I need to explain, don’t I? Give me a moment to get my head around all of this, darling, and then I will. I promise. It’s just so good to see you. And this place. It’s … wow. I can’t believe I’m really here with you. It’s so vivid. Amazing.’
Thank you, Arthur, I thought. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
‘Just don’t get too comfortable,’ I remembered him warning me. ‘Breaking through to Ella’s subconscious is only the first stage. That doesn’t guarantee anything once she wakes up again.’
Ella was staring at me, a quizzical look still etched on her face.
‘What’s wrong, darling?’ I asked.
‘Nothing. It’s just—’ She looked down at her feet. ‘Um, I don’t know. You’re … different.’
‘Different to what?’
‘When we meeted here before.’
‘In your dreams, you mean?’
‘Yes.’
I took a deep breath, still relishing the feeling of fresh air in my lungs. ‘There’s a reason for that, my love …’
After I’d done my best to explain the situation to her, Ella fell silent. She stared out over the incoming waves. ‘But Grandad said dreams aren’t true. He told me it’s not really you here.’
‘Usually it’s not,’ I replied. ‘But – well – this time it is. It’s hard to understand, I know, but you said yourself that I seem different this time.’
She gave a tiny nod of her head. ‘Does it still hurt?’
‘Sorry?’
‘You know. From the accident.’
‘Oh, Ella. I’m fine. I’m not in any pain now.’
‘Is that why there’s no blood or anything?’
I shrugged. ‘I guess so.’
‘That’s good,’ she said, smiling. She hesitated before adding: ‘Did it hurt when it happened?’
‘Only for a moment. And then it was all over. Listen, Ella. I’m so sorry that I let you down. I know I promised never to leave you. And the thing is—’
‘It’s okay, Daddy. I know it wasn’t your fault. Nana said it was a terrible accident.’
‘I’ve missed you so much, my beautiful girl.’
Ella’s eyes welled up. ‘I love you, Daddy.’
I hugged her again. It felt wonderful.
‘Daddy?’ she said. ‘Will you come and see me every night in my dreams?’
‘I’m hoping to do better than that, darling. The thing is, er, I never really went away.’
I’d not explained that part of the story to her yet and she looked at me incredulously. ‘That’s not true, Daddy. Don’t tell lies. You died.’
‘I know. You’re right, of course, darling. I did die. But I’m not lying. I’ve been following you around the whole time since it happened. I was there with you on the day of the accident: when you were waiting in school with Mrs Afzal. I was sitting next to you at the funeral. I was at your bedside tonight when Nana read you some of that book I bought you, Kitty Power. I didn’t leave you. I couldn’t. The problem is that no one can see me.’
‘Like a ghost?’
‘Sort of, but not in a scary way. More like a spirit.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Um, well, kind of like a good ghost.’
‘But I thought ghosts weren’t real.’
‘Like I said, I’m not a ghost: I’m a spirit. Do you understand?’
‘Not really. But I am glad you’re here. Would you like to come to Cat Land? There’s this flying cat. She’s purple with a huge fluffy tail – and she lets me ride on her back. That’s how I get there. I’m sure she’d let you come too.’
‘I’d love to do that later with you,’ I replied. ‘But we need to talk more first. Why don’t we have a stroll along the shore? We can chat as we go.’
Ella nodded. She reached up, squeezing her little hand into mine and it felt fantastic. Choked with a rush of emotion, I had to fight to compose myself before continuing.
‘If we work as a team,’ I said eventually, ‘I think we could be together in the real world.’
‘Like before you died?’
‘Sort of, but different. You won’t be able to touch me. Not like here. So we won’t be able to hug and things like that, but hopefully you’ll be able to see and hear me.’
‘Nana and Grandad will be happy. They miss you loads too.’
‘They won’t be able to see me. It’ll just be you, my love. And, well, you won’t be able to tell them about it.’
‘Why?’
‘Because adults aren’t as good as children at understanding new things. They’ll think it’s just your imagination – and it might make them worry about you. It’ll have to be our secret. Okay?’
Ella nodded. ‘Like when the policeman told you off for driving too fast?’
I laughed. ‘Yes, I suppose so. Trust you to remember that, cheeky monkey. The thing is, I’ve been trying to make contact with you for ages and, so far, I’ve not had much luck. There were two occasions, though, when I thought you sensed me.’
‘When?’
‘First time you were asleep; you said “night night” after I told you some stories. It gave me hope.’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t remember.’
‘The other time was on the day of my funeral. You were in your bedroom afterwards with Auntie Lauren. I came inside with Xander. I said something and you stared at me, like you were in a trance. It definitely felt like you could sense me. Then you snapped out of it and the moment was gone.’
Ella clasped a hand to her mouth. ‘That was you?’
‘Yes. What did you see? What do you remember?’
‘Um, nothing really. I just felt … weird.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘Sort of shivery. And there was a strange feeling in my tummy, like the butterflies I get when I’m nervous.’
‘Try to remember exactly how you felt.’
‘I told you.’
‘That’s fine, darling. You’re doing great. I just want you to recognize the feeling, so next time you’ll know it’s me. Come on, we can do this. All I want you to do is think of me when that feeling comes back. Imagine me talking to you like I am now. And then focus on something we did together before I died. We need to pick one specific moment, so I can think of it too. Any ideas?’
She screwed up her face in concentration. ‘Um, I don’t know. What do you think?’
I looked up and down the deserted beach, so reminiscent of our holiday in Bude, and an idea struck me. ‘Do you remember when we built the sand cat on the beach in Cornwall?’
Ella smiled. ‘Oh yeah. That was brilliant. We called it Mog.’
‘Exactly. The pointy ears were the hardest bit. They kept crumbling away until I used stones to hold them in place.’
‘I remember.’
‘Good girl. That’s our moment. When the time comes, think of it as hard as you can. I’ll do the same and, if we’re lucky, we’ll have a breakthrough.’
‘Then will I be able to see you again, Daddy?’
‘I really hope so. I can’t say for sure, as I’ve never done this before, but a friend of mine told me to try it. He was the one who led me here.’
‘Who’s your friend, Daddy? Is he dead too?’
‘Yes.’
‘What about Mummy? Have you seen her? Have you been to Heaven?’
‘Easy, tiger,’ I said. ‘That’s a lot of questions.’
A large shadow fell over me, instantly blocking out the sun’s warmth. ‘What’s that?’ I said, looking up and half expecting to see the flying cat Ella had mentioned. Instead I saw a large black cloud.
‘What’s what?’ Ella asked.
‘That cloud.’
‘What do you mean? What cloud?’
Her hand fell away from mine and I started shivering. ‘You can’t see it?’
‘Daddy, what’s happening to you? You look like you’re fading away.’
Oh, shit, I thought. This must be what Arthur warned me about. I’d meant to give Ella a heads up, so she didn’t worry, but it had come sooner than expected.
‘You can only be there for a short while,’ Arthur had said. ‘It’ll feel longer than it actually is, as time works differently in dreams. But your daughter’s brain will eventually identify you as a foreign object that doesn’t belong. It will take measures to rectify the situation. You’ll get thrown out.’
The darkness was all around me now. I couldn’t see Ella any more; I could just make out the sound of her screaming my name. ‘Don’t worry,’ I shouted, hoping she could still hear me. ‘Everything will be okay. This is normal. Remember—’
My body convulsed. I felt that sickening feeling again of everything folding in on itself and swallowing me whole. I shot upwards – a human cannonball fired into the black unknown. Out of the darkness, as I continued to rise, a series of disjointed images and sounds flashed in front of me. First a grainy glimpse of Ella laughing as she played in a park with my parents and their dog. Then she was hysterical as Sam ran out in front of a speeding car. Next Ella was alone in the school playground late at night. Then she was in the empty shell of her old bedroom. It had been stripped of all her things; she was standing there in just her pyjamas, pale and shivering.
‘What is this?’ I cried as the montage moved on to a stark vision of Ella running out of a dark cave, eyes wide with fear, followed by a colony of bats. The sound of their flapping wings was deafening.
Then nothingness.
I lurched backwards and forwards, left and right.
Up again.
Down again.
My eyes were glued shut when it finally came to an end. I forced them open and found myself face down on Ella’s bedroom carpet. I breathed a sigh of relief. It was a fake breath again – a spirit’s breath – and I immediately mourned the loss of sensation in my body. But at least I’d made it back in one piece.
I stood up and peered over at Ella’s bed. She was still fast asleep, but her eyelids were twitching and her body was jerking about under the quilt.
‘Wake up, darling,’ I said, leaning towards her, my mouth as close to her ear as I dared. I repeated it several times, but she showed no sign of having heard me. She did, however, start to settle after a few minutes, so I thought it best to back off.
Looking around the bedroom, nothing appeared any different, which felt wrong considering the enormity of what had just happened. How long had I been gone? I wondered. There wasn’t a clock in Ella’s room, but her watch was on the bedside table. I moved to look at it and a wave of dizziness crashed over me. I tried to steady myself but was so tired all of a sudden that I collapsed on to the carpet and sank into a deep, dreamless sleep. It grabbed hold of me and refused to let go. By the time I finally escaped its clutches, bright light was streaming in through the open curtains of Ella’s bedroom window. Her bed was empty and already made up. The house was silent.