‘And did it work? Did Peggy start getting treatment?’
Arthur looked at me with sad eyes. ‘She did, yes. But it was too late. The cancer had too great a hold. Her body was riddled with it.’
‘How long did she last?’
I felt awful for not knowing what had happened to his wife. I’d been a child living in the village back then. Before Arthur died I remembered seeing her with him at church, but I’d never really known her like I knew him. I only noticed her because she was with Arthur; alone, I doubt I could have told her apart from all the other white-haired old ladies.
‘Almost a year,’ he replied. ‘She really fought it once she knew I was with her, but it was a battle she could never win.’
‘I’m sorry. You deserved more time together.’
‘We felt lucky to have that long. It could have only been a few weeks. I’ve no regrets.’
‘Wasn’t she in a lot of pain?’
‘Only at the very end, when the cancer had spread into her bones and pelvis. She was in a hospice by then and on constant medication to ease her suffering.’
‘And what happened when she died?’
‘I did what I had to do,’ Arthur replied after a long pause.
‘What do you mean?’
He closed his eyes and let out a long sigh of anguish. ‘Just before she passed away, I told her that she should follow her guide straight away to the other side once they revealed themselves. I told her to trust them implicitly, as they’d take her to Heaven and I’d be waiting there for her. She had nothing else to keep her here, so that’s what she did.’
‘But … couldn’t she see you once she’d died?’
‘I hid from her. There was no other way. If I hadn’t, she’d have given up her place on the other side to stay with me. I know she would – and I didn’t want that for her. I’d understood by that stage the enormity of what I’d done. I couldn’t let her do the same.’
‘I don’t know what to say.’
‘It’s okay. I know what you’re thinking: it was her choice to make, not mine. Well, I did what I did and that’s all there is to it. You asked for my story. Now you have it. I hope it’s of some help to you.’
‘So you’ve been alone all those years since she died? Didn’t you have any other family?’
Arthur shook his head. ‘Peggy and I were both only children. Other than a couple of distant cousins I hardly knew, there was no one.’ He gestured back towards the church and over at the primary school. ‘I visit lots of places, but here is where I’ve always felt most at home.’
‘What about your old house?’
‘That was sold after Peggy died. It didn’t feel right to stay once the new owners moved in.’
‘You must have been so lonely.’
‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘It eats away at your soul. Staying here definitely isn’t the soft option.’
‘How do you deal with it?’
He shrugged. ‘As best I can.’
I didn’t know what to do with myself after I left Arthur. My mind was all over the place and I needed space to think, so I just started walking. I strode into the grounds of the primary school, headed past the main building, then across the playground and on to the field, where the clover-filled grass was still white with frost.
When I reached the end, I squeezed through a gap in the fence that had been there since my school days and continued towards a wide, sloping meadow, eventually joining a dirt path that led down to a small stream. We’d called it a river as children, which made me smile for a moment as I walked alongside the icy water. I stopped when I reached the towering oak tree. Unlike the stream, it seemed as big as ever, the lack of leaves showing off the muscular swell of its ancient branches. There remained a knotted piece of blue rope hanging from one thick branch, allowing kids to swing across the bubbling water. Could it be the same piece of rope I had swung on all those years ago?
There were so many happy childhood memories associated with this place. As I drank in the scene through my two remaining senses, fragments of those golden days fluttered in and out of my thoughts. Perched atop the highest branches, the village a distant carpet miles below, I was Superman, afraid of no one. Later I was 007, licensed to shoot the bully from the class above with my homemade catapult.
Then a more recent memory took hold and pushed the others aside. I was there with Alice, my wife, on a rare visit back up north to visit Mum and Dad. It was a warm summer evening and she’d suggested a walk, just the two of us. I’d never shown her this place before and she loved it.
‘Watch this,’ I told her as I pulled myself up on to the lowest branch. ‘Come on. You too. It’s easy.’
She shook her head, beaming a happy grin. ‘No, thanks. Don’t let me stop you, though, as long as you’re sure it’s safe.’
‘Of course it is,’ I said, climbing higher. ‘I’ve been up here a hundred times before.’
‘I imagine you’re a bit heavier these days.’
‘Is that what’s stopping you? Look at the size of these branches. They’d hold an elephant. Come on. I dare you to climb up here with me. I’ll keep you safe.’
She shook her head again, her long curls flapping from side to side and an even bigger grin on her face. ‘No, thanks. Better not.’
‘What are you smiling about?’ I asked, halfway up now. ‘Is it so funny to see your husband climbing a tree?’
‘No, not at all.’
‘Then get your arse up here.’
‘I can’t.’
‘Why not?’
She paused before replying: ‘You have to be careful in my condition.’
‘What?’ I said, the shock causing me to lose my footing.
‘Will! Are you all right?’ Alice shouted as my flailing arms managed to grab on to another branch and I pulled myself back to safety.
‘I’m fine,’ I panted. ‘Did you say what I think you just said?’
‘I’m not saying another word until you get back down here to safety.’
‘Okay, okay. I’m coming.’
I clambered down as quickly as I could, my limbs still quivering from the scare. As soon as I was standing next to her, I asked my question again.
‘What do you think I just said, monkey boy?’ she asked, putting her arms around my neck and pulling me towards her, so I was staring straight into her enchanting pale green eyes.
‘That you have to be careful in your condition.’
‘And what condition do you think that might be?’
‘You’re not?’
‘I am.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘I’ve done five home tests. They all say the same thing.’
I felt my mouth stretch into a wide grin. ‘Wow. That’s amazing. But … I thought you weren’t ready yet. And what about your new dental practice? You said you wanted to get properly established first.’
‘Stuff it.’
‘But how? What about the pill?’
‘Remember that night at the hotel in Birmingham. I forgot to take it until the next day. I didn’t think it would matter.’
‘Oh, right,’ I said, smiling at the memory. ‘It happened then?’
‘I think so.’
‘And you’re happy.’
‘Yep. You?’
‘Me? You know I wanted this. I’m … I’m over the moon. We’re having a baby. Wow. We’re having a baby!’
Alice pulled away for a moment, quickly scanning the surrounding area. Then she pulled me into a passionate kiss, led me behind a large bush and started unbuttoning my jeans.
‘Someone might come,’ I said. ‘Everyone knows me around here.’
‘There’s no one else around. We need to celebrate.’
‘But, I mean, is it okay to do that now? Could it not, you know, do some damage?’
‘Of course not. People have sex right the way through pregnancy.’
‘You’re sure?’
Her reply was to push me down on to the ground and straddle me. I didn’t need any more convincing. God, I felt madly in love then. How had I ended up wrecking everything?
As my mind floated back to the wintry present, a wave of sadness and guilt washed over me. Alice and I had been so happy at that magical moment, blissfully unaware of the awful pain to come. It could have all turned out so differently.
But it didn’t, I told myself, and there’s nothing I can do about it. I need to concentrate on the present. There are important things here that are still within my control. So what do I do: stay or go?
On the one hand I had the evidence of Lizzie’s vision of the future, which had shown me how staying with Ella had the potential to go badly wrong. On the other hand, now that I knew how things could turn out, didn’t that enable me to act differently? Surely I didn’t have to become the bitter version of myself that I’d witnessed. What if I stayed with Ella but gave her enough space to live her own life and not feel beholden to me? Was that really possible or was I deluding myself?
I knew I also had to consider the possibility of passing over to the other side, allowing myself to be engulfed in that alluring white light. But how could I ever explain that to Ella? She’d think I was abandoning her.
I’d really hoped that learning Arthur’s story would help me move forward, but here I was, as confused as ever. His situation immediately after he’d died had been comparable to mine, but it had also been quite different. I wasn’t sure what message to take from it. After wandering in circles around the meadow for several hours, the best I could come up with was to discuss the matter openly with Ella. And yet … was this really something a six-year-old should have to consider? If so, I’d certainly have to choose my words carefully.