In spite of Elizabeth’s fears, her mother said nothing more to her on the way back to Wells. Even when they were home and she tried to offer an excuse, Joan Connell tightened her lips and said, “We won’t talk about it now, Elizabeth. Go to bed. School is out for the holidays, so you can sleep late. Go to bed.”
And that was that! Elizabeth was relieved that the outburst she had expected from her mother hadn’t occurred, though she felt some apprehension about what would happen tomorrow morning. But at four o’clock in the morning, she was too tired to worry about it. She fell into a dreamless sleep.
She woke up about one in the afternoon to the sound of a deep voice calling her name. “Elizabeth. Time to wake up, sleeping beauty!”
For a moment she thought that it was Steve’s voice, and she sat up in astonishment. But it was her father who sat on the edge of the bed, smiling down at her.
“Dad! What are you doing here? Oh, Dad!” She threw herself into his arms, and he held her tightly. “I’m so glad you’ve come, Dad. Mom is so angry at me. I lied to her and disobeyed her but –”
“Your mother’s not angry, Elizabeth. But she’s very upset. You gave her quite a scare last night. She phoned me as soon as she realized that you were missing. Brian and I flew in on the morning plane, and your friend, the Judge, picked us up in Quesnel. We’re staying for Christmas.”
Elizabeth felt ashamed. “Mom didn’t need to call you. I’m all right.” She hesitated, then said, “I suppose she’s told you everything? About the graveyard and. . . .”
“And Steve.” Mike Connell’s voice was gentle. “Yes. I’ve known ever since she read your diary, Elizabeth. I’ve been worried about you, too.”
“Dad, you don’t think I’m crazy, do you? You don’t believe that I’m seeing things that don’t exist?”
“I don’t know what to believe, Elizabeth. I think that you’ve been lonely, and I know that this little town must be a strange place to live in. But you don’t have to worry about it any more. It’s over.”
“Over? What do you mean? Steve is sick and I have to go back and see him next Sunday and –”
“You’re going home, Elizabeth! Your mother and I have talked about it. Both of you are coming home. She has to work until after Christmas, but you’re flying home next Sunday evening.”
His smile was broad as he hugged her. “I’ve missed you both. I’m so glad your mother has decided to come back to Vancouver.”
“She can’t leave now!” Elizabeth was horrified. The last thing in the world she wanted to do was leave Wells, and Steve. “Mom’s signed a contract. She has to stay for a year.”
“The MacDonalds understand, Elizabeth. They’ve released her from the contract. The new cook will be here next Monday to take over.”
“Understand? What exactly do they understand?” Elizabeth thought she knew the answer to that question, but she felt she had to ask it anyway. Mike Connell brushed a strand of hair away from his face and sighed. His eyes were kind, but she could tell that he had been under a strain.
“They understand that you’re not well, Elizabeth. They understand that the best thing for you is to be as far away from Barkerville as possible – and as soon as possible. That’s what Dr. Fendell recommended weeks ago, and your mother is blaming herself for not taking his advice immediately.”
“But she can’t leave just because of some dumb psychiatrist’s –”
“Elizabeth, it’s not just because of you. Your mother wants to come home. She wants to come back to me and Brian. Whatever it was she needed to find in Wells, she’s found it, and she’s ready to come back to Vancouver. You’ve given her an excuse for leaving earlier, that’s all.”
“Really? She wants to go back? She’s not talking about a divorce anymore?” Elizabeth’s eyes widened at the news. But she didn’t want to leave Barkerville, and Steve. Three months ago all she wanted to do was go home, but not now. “But Dad, I don’t want people to think that Mom’s leaving because I’m crazy.”
“No one thinks that, Elizabeth. They all realize how alone you’ve been these past five months. No one thinks you’re really crazy, just young and lonely and missing your family and your own home.”
Elizabeth pushed her hair behind her ears and sat up straight. “I don’t want to go,” she said.
“Oh.” Her father looked at her steadily. “I want very much to have you home again, both you and your mother. Besides, Elizabeth, you’re not even sixteen years old. Do you really have any choice in the matter?”
“No. I guess I don’t,” Elizabeth said in a small voice. She felt very confused. Part of her wanted to go home again, another part desperately wanted to stay in Wells. She was angry at her mother for using her ’illness’ as an excuse to return to Vancouver, yet she was relieved that her parents had reconciled their differences and that the family would be together again.
“I know how you feel, Elizabeth, but believe me it’s the best thing for all of us. Now, come on and get dressed and we’ll go over to the restaurant for lunch – although I guess you can call it breakfast. Brian is already over there, sampling your mother’s french fries, and he wants to see you. Maybe you can borrow some skis and boots for him and teach him how to cross-country ski. I hear you’ve become very good at it lately.”
Elizabeth blushed. Was her father referring to her skiing trips to the graveyard, or was he seriously paying her a compliment? She decided she wouldn’t ask exactly what he meant.
“Okay. I am hungry. And Dad....”
“Yes?”
“I’m really sorry you’ve been worried. I’d like to explain it all to you sometime, if you’d listen.”
“I’ll be glad to listen, anytime you want to talk about it.” Mike Connell paused for a moment. “Elizabeth, there’s a story I should tell you, about myself when I was your age. There was an old woman who sat on our family’s front porch and told me of how it had been when she was young and lived in that very house.”
“Grandma?” Elizabeth asked.
“No, dear. Not great-grandma, either. You see, no one but me could see her or hear her. She wasn’t supposed to exist!”
“Really, Dad? Or are you making up a story to help me feel better?”
“I saw what I saw, Elizabeth, but looking back on it I’m not sure if she was real. At the time she seemed real, very real, to me. I’ll tell you all about it and you can decide. And you tell me about your Steve, okay?”
They smiled at each other. “Elizabeth? I’ve . . . I’ve never told your mother about my phantom old woman. Let’s keep it that way, shall we?”
“Sure, Dad, sure!” This time their smiles were more like conspiratorial grins.