‘So what now?’
‘How long is it since you entered Ella’s dream?’
‘By tonight it will be seventy-two hours.’
‘And nothing’s changed?’
‘Not that I can see. She still looks straight through me.’
‘Not even a glimmer of … something? You know, some kind of recognition, like you had before?’
‘No. Zilch.’
Arthur scratched his head. ‘But you say the process of entering her dream went well?’
‘Yes. Amazing. We were together and it was like being alive again. I could breathe. I could feel. I could hold her in my arms. I could smell her hair.’
‘Ah, yes. Dreams can have that effect.’
‘The thing is,’ I said. ‘It’s made me want this even more than before. I had it in my grasp and, like an idiot, I let it slip away. Now I’m tearing my hair out. If only I’d not passed out like I did. I should have been there when she woke up.’
‘Don’t beat yourself up, William. It’s only normal what happened. What you did – where you went – would be exhausting for even the most experienced spirit. It couldn’t be helped.’
‘When I was with Ella, I told her pretty much everything we discussed. But she’s not showing any sign of remembering it. Was it all for nothing?’
‘I doubt that. I suspect it’s there in her mind somewhere. What we need to do is find a way to help her tap into it.’
‘We? You mean me?’
‘Look, I’m doing my best to help you here, lad.’
‘Sorry, Arthur. I don’t mean to take it out on you. I know you’re sticking your neck out to help me. Is everything all right on that front? That, um, thing from the pavilion: it’s not caught up with you or anything? You’re not putting yourself in danger by talking to me now, are you?’
‘Don’t fret about me, lad. I’m being extra careful. You shouldn’t have experienced what you did. That was my mistake and it won’t happen again.’
‘But I can’t just forget. I—’
‘It’s not something you need to worry about. Seriously, you’ve enough on your plate. I’m sorry you had to go through that, but you weren’t the target and you were never at risk. It’s my problem – and it’s under control. Concentrate on Ella. What’s the next step?’
‘Fine. Do you think I should try again? Should I go into another dream?’
‘No. I don’t think that would be wise. Not yet.’
Arthur and I were sitting on a pair of old deckchairs on a flat section of roof out of sight at the back of my old primary school. I’d found him watching the current caretaker polish the hall floor, taking great pleasure in criticizing his ‘shoddy’ work. When I’d asked for somewhere quiet to chat, he’d whizzed us up to this old haunt of his. It was a dry day, but all the people I’d passed in the street had been wrapped up to fend off the cold. It made my jeans and T-shirt combo look especially out of place. Just as well I couldn’t feel anything.
‘Why not?’ I asked as a cluster of fallen leaves waltzed around the playground, the wind tricking their orange and brown curls into a false promise of new life. ‘What have I got to lose? The clock’s ticking. I need a breakthrough and I need it soon.’
Arthur, his hands bunched up in the pockets of his cardigan, gave me a pinched smile. ‘I understand. As I explained before, though, you need to leave enough time so that her brain doesn’t spot you straight away. Go in too soon and you’ll have an even longer wait before the coast is clear again.’
‘So how long would you recommend?’
‘I’d give it at least a week.’
‘From today?’
‘No, from when you last went in. That was Sunday night, right? Today’s Wednesday, so only a few days to go.’
‘I’m not sure I can wait that long, Arthur. Is there nothing else I can do?’
‘Not really, other than staying close to Ella and hoping that she remembers something. Memory’s unpredictable. It can be triggered by the slightest thing. Keep your fingers crossed that Lady Luck’s on your side.’
Waiting was hard. Really hard. But I forced myself to do it. In the meantime, I stuck by Ella’s side like a second shadow, hoping and praying that something might click. The only time I kept my distance was when she was at school. I went with her, but during lessons I stayed outside the classroom, knowing that she wouldn’t like me watching her at work. I’d return to her side at break times when she was still, unfortunately, in the habit of wandering around the yard alone rather than playing with her classmates. Her friend Jada, a timid but nice girl who used to come over for tea at our house, would often try to coax her into joining a game. But Ella invariably declined.
I overheard some girls from the year above laughing at her and branding her a ‘weirdo’ on a couple of occasions, which made my blood boil. I hoped she hadn’t heard, although I knew in my heart that she must have. Then on Friday lunchtime the ringleader – a plump girl called Kaylee with blotchy skin, short ginger hair and thick glasses – stuck out her leg as Ella walked past, tripping her over so she grazed both knees. ‘Oops!’ she said sarcastically. ‘You should look where you’re going, weirdo.’
‘What happened, love?’ the kindly dinner lady asked after patching up my daughter and wiping away her tears.
‘Tell her, darling,’ I said, still raging and wishing I could wring Kaylee’s neck. ‘Don’t let that evil dwarf get away with it.’
But Ella shrugged her shoulders and muttered that she’d tripped.
‘Are you sure that’s what happened?’ the dinner lady asked. ‘You mustn’t be afraid to tell the truth.’
‘It was an accident,’ Ella whispered, eyes on the ground.
‘Ella!’ I shouted, louder than intended. ‘Why are you protecting her?’
She looked in my direction for an instant, a puzzled look on her face, but then looked away again.
‘Ella?’ I said. ‘You heard me, didn’t you?’
I repeated the question several times, but once again it was useless. The moment, fleeting as always, had passed.
By Saturday I was itching to go back into Ella’s dreamland. I couldn’t focus my mind on anything else. I was desperate to talk to her again – to iron out whatever had gone wrong the first time – but I still had another day to wait.
It was just after 11 a.m. Mum had gone to the hairdresser, leaving Dad and Ella at home. It was wet and windy outside and the two of them were playing Connect Four in the lounge. I was staring out of the front window at the waterlogged garden when a dark blur on the road beyond caught my attention. I looked up and could see a black car with dark windows crawling past. It stopped a little further on from my parents’ house, but the exhaust pipe kept smoking. It looked to be the same Audi that I’d seen at the church on the day of my funeral.
‘You again. Who are you?’ I tried to read the number plate, having berated myself for not noting it previously, but it was obscured by a bush in next door’s front garden. All I could make out was the initial D3. I wanted to run outside to get a close look at the car and, if possible, a glimpse inside. But I had no chance of getting past the front door without someone to open it for me, so I decided to run upstairs instead, hoping to get a better view from one of the front bedrooms.
I was halfway up the stairs when I heard a crash and the sound of Ella screaming. I froze. My mind was racing, desperately trying to calculate what might have happened. I felt like some unseen force was sucking me to the spot; holding me there as clocks stopped and the world ground to a halt around me. Then I heard Ella again. ‘Grandad!’ she shouted, her voice brimming with terror. ‘Grandad, what’s wrong?’
I pulled myself together and rushed to the lounge.
Ella was standing over Dad, who was slumped across the floor. The coffee table was on its side next to him with pieces from the Connect Four game scattered all over the carpet.
‘Oh my God,’ I said.
My first thought was that Dad was unconscious. But when I reached his side I heard him groaning and could see that he was struggling to get back up. He slurred what sounded like Ella’s name followed by: ‘Hewpmeup.’
She stared at him, horrified. ‘Grandad. What’s wrong? You’re scaring me. I can’t understand you. Why are you speaking like that? What’s wrong? I don’t know what to do.’
‘Hewpmeup. Pliz,’ he slurred again. ‘Filldizzy.’
‘He wants you to help him up, Ella,’ I said, desperate to assist her, although she still couldn’t hear me. ‘Don’t panic. Keep a calm head. You’re going to need to call for help.’
Meanwhile, Dad had managed to pull himself on to the couch. He was sitting there, blinking, a confused look on his face. His hands were palms down either side of him on the seat, as if to steady himself.
‘Grandad?’ Ella said. ‘Are you okay?’
He frowned. ‘What?’
‘Are you all right, Grandad?’
He stared at her in silence for a moment, blinking a few more times, before replying: ‘Water.’
Ella raced to the kitchen. ‘Back in a second.’
Dad lifted one hand to wipe away some drool from the side of his mouth and took several deep breaths. I knelt down to get a proper look at him. He still seemed unsteady and confused, but there was clarity in his eyes.
Ella returned with the water and held it up to his mouth for him to sip. I remembered her doing the same for me when I had the flu once and she enthusiastically volunteered to be my nurse. ‘Here you go, Grandad.’
‘Thanks, love,’ he replied, only a hint of a slur left in his voice.
‘Are you feeling better?’
‘Yes. I’ll be fine.’
My daughter’s little face visibly relaxed. ‘That’s good.’
An hour later, when Mum returned from the hairdresser, Dad seemed normal. An hour after that he was out in the garden puffing on a cigarette. He’d explained away the episode to Ella as a bout of dizziness brought on by lack of sleep. ‘I need an early night tonight,’ he’d told her. ‘That’s all. It’s nothing to be concerned about. You won’t mention it to Nana, will you? There’s no need to worry her.’
‘Don’t be so stupid,’ I shouted at Dad. ‘You shouldn’t be asking a little girl to keep secrets for you like that. You need to get yourself checked out at the hospital. You can’t sweep this under the carpet.’
I feared he had suffered a mini-stroke. I was no doctor, but I’d written a health feature about this during the summer news lull and the symptoms rang alarm bells. It was also known as a TIA, I recalled, although what that stood for escaped me. What I did remember writing was that although a TIA generally resulted in only short-term symptoms, it often preceded a full stroke. And Dad was a prime candidate for a stroke, what with all the smoking and drinking, lack of exercise and being so overweight.
I had to do something.
As Ella got ready for bed that evening, I prepared myself for another journey into the world of her dreams. I’d been weighing up my options all day and it seemed to be the only way forward. By Arthur’s reckoning it was still too soon, but if I was right about what had happened to Dad earlier, that was a risk I had to take. For such an intelligent man, I couldn’t believe how stupid he was being, burying his head in the sand like this. I wasn’t about to stand idly by and watch another member of my family die before his time.
After the bath, stories and goodnight kisses were all out of the way, I stood silently by the side of Ella’s bed, waiting for her to drop off. She was restless, tossing and turning, unable to find the right position from which to fall asleep. Then she sat up in bed, eyes wide open, and started sobbing.
‘Oh, Ella,’ I whispered into her ear, silently cursing my father again for the stress he was putting her through. ‘Don’t cry. Please don’t cry. I’m here, right next to you. Why can’t you see me? Why can’t you remember?’
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she let out all her pain, her fears and her frustration in a cascade of sorrow. I hoped that Mum or Dad might hear and come to comfort her, but the TV was playing loudly below and it must have drowned out the sound.
‘God?’ Ella whispered eventually after the flow of tears had eased. ‘Are you there? I spoke to you before. You didn’t answer, but … I know you’re busy.’ She paused before adding: ‘The thing is, I really need your help now. Something happened to Grandad today and I’m so scared. He made me promise not to tell Nana, but I’m worried if I don’t, he might die – like my daddy did. Then it will be my fault.’
She started to cry again.
‘No,’ I said. ‘No, no, no. You mustn’t think like that. Not even for a second. Whatever happens to him, it’s not your fault.’
I was so frustrated, I felt like I was about to explode. ‘For fuck’s sake!’ I shouted, shaking my hands up in the air. ‘What the hell am I supposed to do? Why can’t she see me? This is so bloody frustrating.’
I turned and saw Ella staring at me, her eyes wide like two CDs. ‘What is that? Is someone there?’
‘Ella?’ I said slowly, wishing I’d not used such bad language in my outburst. ‘It’s Daddy. Can you hear me?’
She continued to stare.
‘I’ll take that as a no. But you can sense something, right? Do you feel shivery, like last time? Butterflies in your tummy? Focus on it. Try to remember what it means. You can do it, Ella. I know you can.’
‘God? Is that you?’
‘No, darling. It’s Daddy. Focus. Think hard what this means.’
Ella kept staring. I didn’t once see her blink. Slowly, I started to move towards her; she sat back slightly as I did, a wary expression forming on her face. ‘Who’s there?’ she asked, a sense of urgency in her voice now. ‘Don’t come any closer. You’re scaring me.’
I stopped.
‘It’s all right,’ I said gently. ‘Stay calm. I won’t move any further. But keep looking at me. What can you see? What can you feel?’
Remaining still and silent for a moment, I watched Ella. Her fast, shallow breathing was the only sound in the room. She frowned. I could tell from the darting movement of her eyes that she was busy thinking; remembering, I hoped. ‘That’s it, darling. Dig deep.’
I didn’t dare to move any closer for fear of alarming her and breaking her concentration. Instead, I tried to focus my thoughts. I imagined beaming them over to her: hundreds of happy memories of the two of us together. And then I concentrated on that single memory – the one we’d chosen – of us building a sand cat. Praying Ella was doing the same, I pictured us on the beach in Cornwall, trying to recall every little detail of the scene, from the reflection of the sea in her pale green eyes to the candyfloss clouds in the blue sky above. I thought of nothing else. I lived in that moment.
And then she said it. Five simple words that brought me hurtling back into the present and changed everything.
‘Is that really you, Daddy?’