‘You can see me?’
She nodded.
I moved towards her but stopped when I saw her flinch. ‘There’s nothing to be afraid of, Ella.’
‘Are you … a ghost?’
‘I’m a spirit, like I told you in your dream. You remember that, right? We had a long talk on the beach. You asked if I still felt any pain from the accident; I told you I didn’t. You wanted me to come to Cat Land with you, but I never got the chance. I explained how I was still here. That I never left you.’
Ella stared at me, mouth agape but offering no reply.
‘We chose a happy memory to think about,’ I said, ‘as a way to help you recognize me. It was building—’
‘The sand cat,’ she replied. ‘When we were on holiday in Cornwall.’
Her eyes lit up – like a huge weight had been lifted – and suddenly my daughter was grinning at me.
‘You remember?’
‘Yes. I think I forgot. I don’t know why, but I remember everything now.’
‘Oh, Ella. That’s incredible. It’s me. It really is. I promise.’
‘I know,’ she said.
Instinctively, I got up and raced over to the bed to give her a big hug. But when I tried to touch her, I was hurled back into the bedroom wall.
‘Daddy? Are you all right?’ Ella yelped, racing to my side. ‘What happened?’
‘It’s okay,’ I replied, holding my palms out in front of me to stop her coming too close. ‘I’m fine. We can’t touch, that’s all. I was so excited that I forgot.’
‘Why not?’ she asked, her little mouth turning down at the corners.
I shrugged, slowly rising back to my feet. ‘That’s just how it works. I’ve no idea why. How did it feel when it happened?’
She scrunched up her nose. ‘Um, sort of tingly. Only a tiny bit, though. Are you hurt?’
‘No. Not at all. I’m totally numb. It’s like I’m surrounded by a bubble that stops me from feeling anything. How do I look?’
‘Like I remember before, um, you know.’
‘Before I died. You needn’t be afraid to say it. It’s a fact. So you can’t see a bubble or anything?’
Ella giggled. ‘No, Daddy. You do look a bit see-through, though.’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah. And aren’t you cold in a T-shirt?’
‘Like I said, darling, I can’t feel anything. I’ve been stuck in this outfit since I died.’
I smiled at my daughter. I couldn’t stop smiling. I was so happy. Finally I could communicate with her again. I could be a father again. It felt amazing.
‘How did it happen when you first saw me?’ I asked Ella after we’d been chatting for a while.
‘Well I was really sad and scared about Grandad. Then, er, it was weird. I got this funny feeling like something was there but I didn’t know what.’
‘And after that I suddenly appeared?’
‘Kind of, but I could only see you a bit at first. You got clearer and clearer.’
‘Wow. I can’t believe we’ve finally done it after all this time.’
Ella stifled a yawn.
‘You’re tired,’ I said. ‘I’d better not keep you talking much longer.’
‘I’m not that tired.’
‘Don’t give me that. You look shattered.’
‘Are you sure I’ll still be able to see you in the morning?’
‘As sure as I can be. It’s not like I’ve done this before. I think you will, though. You’re tuned into me now.’
‘But no one else can see you?’
‘That’s right. You mustn’t tell anyone about me and you should only talk to me when no one else is around.’
Despite further protests that she wasn’t tired, Ella was asleep in no time. I stayed by her side and it felt fantastic when I saw her peek sleepily at me a couple of times as she was dropping off.
We had spoken a little about her dilemma regarding Dad, but I’d not wanted to busy her mind before sleep. I told her not to worry and promised we’d deal with it first thing tomorrow.
‘Morning, sleepyhead.’
Ella grinned, still able to see me, thank goodness. ‘Hi, Daddy. What time is it?’
‘Oh, I’m only joking. It’s not late. Almost seven thirty.’
‘When did you wake up?’
‘About an hour ago.’
‘Why didn’t you wake me?’
‘You need your sleep, darling. It’s especially important at your age. Did you have nice dreams?’
‘Oh, I don’t remember, actually.’ She rubbed her eyes. ‘I’m so glad you’re still here, Daddy.’
I smiled. ‘Me too.’
‘Is Grandad already awake?’
‘Yes, he and Nana are both up and about. After breakfast I’ll help you talk to Nana about what happened. Is that okay?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good. We’ll do it when she’s brushing your teeth. And don’t forget that you mustn’t talk to me in front of anyone else. You’ll need to pretend I’m not here.’
A nervous look flashed across Ella’s face. ‘I’ll do my best.’
‘I know you will, darling. That’s all I ever ask of you. Don’t worry. It’ll be fine.’
‘Morning, love.’ Mum bustled into the room. ‘I thought I could hear you. Were you calling me?’
‘Um, yes … I was,’ Ella replied, looking at me out of the corner of her eye. ‘Is it time to get up yet?’
‘It is. I thought it might be nice if we all went to church this morning.’
‘Okay, Nana.’
‘Good girl. I’ll see you downstairs in a few minutes.’
My parents had taken Ella to the Sunday service a couple of times now. Apart from wanting to share their belief with her, I think they were hoping she’d meet some children her age. It would be nice for her to have some playmates nearby; it would also make it easier for her to settle in at the local school if and when they decided to move her.
‘Why did we never go to church, Daddy?’ she asked me when Mum was out of hearing range.
I smiled at how good it felt to be able to answer my daughter’s questions again. ‘We did go occasionally. At Christmas and so on.’
‘But not like Nana and Grandad do. They go a lot.’
‘I know. I used to go with them when I was little. I just grew out of it, I suppose. I found it hard after your mum died.’
‘What do you mean?’
I heard the sound of footsteps. ‘Later,’ I whispered as Dad walked into the room.
‘Good morning, princess,’ he said. ‘Good sleep?’
‘Yes, thanks. What about you, Grandad? Are you feeling better today?’
He gave her a grin and a wink. ‘Never more so. Come on. It’s time for breakfast.’
I didn’t buy it. He looked tired and his skin had a grey tinge to it. The sooner we get him to a hospital, the better, I thought.
‘Is he really all right?’ Ella whispered as she put on her pink fluffy dressing gown, ready to follow him downstairs.
‘I’m not a doctor, but I think he ought to see one to get himself checked out. Nana will know what to do once we tell her.’
‘We?’
‘Well, you. But I’ll be right there next to you, helping you with what to say.’
‘That’s good.’
Just then I heard Mum cry out: ‘Tom? Oh God. What’s wrong?’
Ella and I looked at each other, panic-stricken, before rushing down the stairs and into the kitchen to see what had happened. I knew what we’d find before we got there.
Dad was slumped on a chair at the kitchen table, his back to the door, and Mum was leaning over him anxiously. Sam was sitting to attention in his bed, head tipped to one side and big brown eyes glued on my parents. He only looked away for a second when Ella and I walked into the room before snapping his attention back to the matter at hand.
‘What’s wrong, Nana?’ Ella asked.
‘Quick. Grab me the phone,’ Mum snapped. ‘We need an ambulance.’
As Ella ran into the lounge, I circled the table to get a proper view of Dad. He looked awful. His face was covered in sweat and twisted out of shape, his right eye and the same side of his mouth drooping heavily. He was trying to speak, but all that came out was an unintelligible slur. When he attempted to stand, his right leg gave way underneath him and he fell back into the seat.
‘Just stay where you are, love. Don’t fight it,’ Mum told him as Ella returned with the cordless handset. ‘We’ll get help.’
She grabbed the phone, uttering a quick ‘good girl’ to Ella while dialling 999.
I could see tears welling up in Ella’s eyes. ‘You mustn’t worry, darling,’ I whispered into her ear, doing my best to sound convincing. ‘Everything’s going to be okay. And don’t you go blaming yourself. This is not your fault.’
‘But I—’
‘Shh! You can’t talk to me now. Not in front of other people, remember.’
She looked down at the ground in silence, fighting back the tears, as Mum told the emergency call operator where to send the ambulance.
‘It’s all right, Ella,’ I said. ‘No one noticed this time, but you must remember to be careful.’
She gave me a slight nod. ‘That’s my girl,’ I said. ‘Now you stay strong. Nana’s going to need you by her side.’
As soon as I’d said it, I felt bad. It was a lot to expect of a six-year-old, especially one who’d already been through so much. ‘And don’t forget that I’m here at your side,’ I added. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’
The ambulance arrived in minutes and Dad was rushed to hospital. The rest of us followed in the car, which I managed to squeeze into with a little help from Ella.
It wasn’t until Ella was in bed that evening that she and I got to have a proper talk. As I’d feared, Dad had suffered a full-blown stroke. We’d left him at the hospital after spending most of the day there. He was in a bad way, but at least he was now under proper medical supervision.
The stroke, which had been confirmed by a brain scan, had affected much of Dad’s right side as well as his speech. He’d been admitted to the stroke unit and put on special clot-busting drugs, which they were hopeful would help, but it was too early yet to know how well he’d recover.
‘You did everything right,’ a doctor had told Mum. ‘Time’s crucial after a stroke and you got him here to us straight away, giving him the best possible chance you could.’
His words may have provided some comfort to Mum, but they made me feel worse, knowing that the alarm could have been raised a day earlier.
‘You did really well today, Ella,’ I said. ‘You’ve been a brave girl.’
‘That’s what Nana said,’ she replied, ‘but when I told her what happened yesterday, she was disappointed. I could tell. I could have stopped it, couldn’t I?’
‘You mustn’t think like that. Of course Nana’s not disappointed with you. Grandad had no business asking you to keep quiet and it was me that told you not to say anything until the morning. You’re not to blame at all.’
‘I wish you could give me a hug, Daddy, like you used to.’
‘Oh, darling,’ I said, longing to be able to comfort her. Then I had an idea. ‘Sit up a minute … that’s right. Now move your bum forward a little more and keep really still.’
I sat behind her on the bed and gently moved my arms into position around her. We weren’t quite touching; I was careful to leave just enough space so as not to be repelled. ‘There you go,’ I whispered into her ear. ‘How’s that?’
‘Nice,’ she replied in a small voice. ‘I love you, Daddy.’
‘Me too, beautiful. More than anything.’
We stayed silent for a few moments, taking solace in each other’s company. Then Ella started with the questions I’d been expecting.
‘Daddy, is Grandad going to die?’
‘No, darling. I don’t think so. Not for a good while yet, anyway. We all die one day, but hopefully that won’t be for a long time in Grandad’s case.’
‘So he’ll get better?’
‘It’s hard to know with a stroke, but the doctors were really pleased with how quickly we got him to hospital.’
‘Why did his face go all funny?’
‘That’s one of the things that can happen with a stroke,’ I replied. ‘Some parts of Grandad’s body aren’t working properly at the moment.’
‘It looked like he was sad on one side, didn’t it?’
‘Yes, I suppose it did.’
‘But he will be able to talk properly again, won’t he?’
‘Let’s hope so. Like I said, it’s too early yet to know how well he’ll recover.’
‘Um … what is a stroke, Daddy? I thought that’s what you do to dogs and cats.’
‘It’s the same word,’ I said, ‘but it has a totally different meaning. What happened to Grandad isn’t in any way related to stroking an animal. A stroke in this case means that the blood supply to Grandad’s brain got cut off, causing some damage.’
‘To his brain?’
‘Exactly.’
‘That’s bad. We learned at school that your brain is the most important organism in your whole body. It controls everything else.’
‘Very good. I’m impressed,’ I said, not having the heart to correct her wrong choice of word. ‘That’s why he’s having problems talking and moving parts of his body. It’s because his brain’s not working properly.’
‘Will they have to put plaster on his head, like Jada had on her arm when that was broken?’
I stifled a laugh. ‘No, it doesn’t work like that with your brain. Because it’s so important, it’s much more complicated to fix than an arm or a leg. It’s like a really powerful computer.’
‘I know. That’s what Mrs Afzal said.’ She paused. ‘But I still don’t see why they call it a stroke.’
‘They just do, Ella. Don’t ask me why. How are things at school, by the way?’
‘Good.’
‘What about with Kaylee?’ I asked, seizing the opportunity to bring up the bullying I’d witnessed in the playground.
Ella blushed and looked away from me. She didn’t reply.
‘I was there when she tripped you up at school the other day,’ I explained. ‘You ought to have told the dinner lady what happened. She shouldn’t have got away with it. Has she done anything since then?’
Ella shook her head. ‘I’m keeping away from her. She’s mean. I don’t know why she doesn’t like me.’
‘She jealous, darling. That’s all.’
Ella looked at me like I was crazy. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Look at you and look at her. You’re beautiful. She’s a little—’
I stopped myself short of calling her any of the derogatory names I had in my head, realizing that wouldn’t be a responsible thing for a father to say to his six-year-old. Instead, I explained as best as I could how children could be cruel to others to make up for their own inadequacies.
‘She’s a bully,’ I added. ‘And the only way to beat a bully is to stand up to them. You mustn’t be afraid of her. You’re twice her size and probably twice as strong. If she tries anything again, don’t stand for it. If she pushes you, push her back harder. Do that and she won’t try it again. Trust me.’
‘How do you know?’ she asked. ‘What if all her friends are there?’
‘That doesn’t matter. If you stand up for yourself, they’ll leave you alone too.’
I knew I probably ought to be advising her to speak to a teacher instead, but experience told me that this technique would be far more effective in the long run.
‘I was bullied for a while when I was at primary school,’ I said. ‘This stupid little kid called Ricky Adams kept calling me “Stick Insect”.’
Ella giggled.
‘It might sound amusing now, but it wasn’t back then. I was the tallest and skinniest in the class and it really used to bother me. Ricky called me that name at every opportunity, using it as a way to make fun of me. He used to trip me up, just like Kaylee did to you. Then he and his mates would laugh at me and he’d shout something like: “Stick Insect fell over himself.” It made me miserable. But one day he pushed me too far. I’d got this new lunchbox. It was an A-Team one, which was this TV show everyone thought was very cool at the time. I was really proud of it. Anyway, Ricky snatched it off me and he and his friends started throwing it around. I went crazy. I stormed up to him, shouting what an idiot he was, and then I shoved him to the floor. He was loads smaller than me, you see, so it wasn’t hard and he immediately started crying. Everyone saw him for what he was after that and I never had any more problems.’
I kept the pep talk going for a bit longer, hoping it was sinking in. Then Ella started yawning, so I told her it was time to go to sleep. I climbed carefully out of the bed and let her lie back down.
‘That’s it. You get nice and cosy,’ I said. ‘It’s been a long day and you’ve got school tomorrow.’
‘Nana said I might not be going. She said we’d see how Grandad was doing.’
‘All the same, you need your sleep. You’re a growing girl.’
‘Can I have a story?’
‘No, darling. Nana read you one earlier and it’s too late now.’
‘Okay. You’re sure she’s not cross with me?’
‘Totally. Now goodnight. Sleep tight. Don’t let the bedbugs bite.’
‘I won’t.’
I headed to the door. ‘Where are you going?’ Ella asked. ‘Aren’t you staying in here with me?’
‘I’m going to check on Nana. Don’t worry, I’ll be back later.’
The truth was that Mum had been disappointed when Ella had told her about Dad’s mini-stroke. She’d not said anything, but a look had flashed across her face. I’d noticed it just like Ella had. It wasn’t fair, but Mum wasn’t herself right now. She was in shock. Here was a woman who’d just lost her son and been thrust back into raising a young child at the age of sixty. Now this body blow. I desperately wished there was something I could do to help.
I found her lying on the couch, staring blank-faced at some period drama on the box.
‘How are you holding up, Mum?’ I said, kneeling in front of her. The answer was obvious. For a start, I don’t think I’d ever seen her sprawled across the couch like that before. When I was a teenager, she was forever telling me not to do it. ‘Sit up, for goodness’ sake,’ she’d say. ‘You look so slovenly. If you want to lie down, you should go up to bed.’
She looked exhausted. Beaten.
So I stayed with her, speaking words of encouragement that I hoped might penetrate her subconscious. When the programme ended and the credits started to roll, Mum heaved herself up and trudged through to the kitchen, so I followed. She put the kettle on and let Sam, who’d been eyeing me suspiciously, out into the garden. ‘You still don’t trust me, do you?’ I shouted after the dog, who replied with a loud bark.
‘Be quiet, Sam,’ Mum snapped. ‘You’ll disturb the neighbours.’
While Sam was outside getting his last exercise before bed, Mum sat down at the kitchen table. She stared at a plastic bag she’d brought back from the hospital containing Dad’s personal items. She looked so alone; I wished she knew I was there with her.
After the kettle had boiled and she’d made herself a cup of tea, she let Sam back inside and sat down again at the table. She pulled the bag over to her and peered inside before pulling out Dad’s mobile. It was one of the latest touchscreen smartphones, which he’d taken great pleasure in treating himself to and spent weeks, and many phone calls to me, trying to understand. Mum then pulled out another phone that I didn’t recognize: a small black clamshell. She held it up and stared at it. After a while she let out a long sigh. Very carefully – as if the phone might explode in her hands – she flipped it open.
‘Oh, Tom,’ she said softly. ‘What have you been up to?’