Time to Say Goodbye

by S. D. Robertson

  All eyes were on Ella, who was staring at the ground, ashen-faced. One of her hands was tightly wrapped around Mum’s left thumb; the other was clenched into a tiny white fist. Listening to the eulogy made me feel uncomfortable. I desperately wanted to leave, but seeing my little girl struggling to cope, I knew that wasn’t possible. ‘Come on, Ella,’ I whispered into her ear. ‘You’re doing great.’

  I looked over at Arthur but couldn’t catch his eye, as he was staring intently at the pulpit from which my sister was still speaking.

  ‘As awful as it is that my brother is dead, I think it’s important that we all take a moment today to reflect on the happy memories we have of him. That’s what he’d want us to remember; not the terrible way that he was taken from us. We need to celebrate his life as well as mourn his death. I’d like to share one of my own memories with you and then we’ll have a minute’s silence for you each to think back to some of your own.’

  Lauren cleared her throat and took another deep breath before continuing. ‘A lot of my favourite memories of Will are from our childhood. When I was considering which one to mention here, there were so many it was hard to choose. But one story kept coming to mind. My first thought was that it was too silly to repeat at a funeral, but – well – I decided Will would have liked it. It always made him giggle.

  ‘We were away on holiday with Mum and Dad one summer. I think I was twelve, which would have made Will ten. We were staying in a caravan in France and we’d both just been to the campsite shop to spend our pocket money. I’d bought some French magazine I’d never be able to read and he’d got some sweets. Back at the caravan, where Mum and Dad had unwisely left us alone for half an hour, I was trying to persuade him to give me a couple of his orange Tic Tacs. He said I could have one if I closed my eyes and opened my mouth. Foolishly I did, upon which he promptly stuck one up each of my nostrils.’

  She smiled as there was a rumble of laughter from the pews. ‘Charming, I know. That was the kind of prank my mischievous brother used to love playing on me. I, of course, went mad, panicking when I couldn’t dislodge the sweets and threatening all sorts in retaliation. The two of us spent ages extracting them from my nose with a hand mirror and pair of tweezers. You’d be surprised what a good fit those Tic Tacs were. One was particularly wedged in, but eventually we got it out. I agreed not to tell Mum and Dad; the cost of my silence was the rest of his sweets and a quarter of his holiday pocket money. For years afterwards, if Will and I ever fell out about something, he’d always buy me a pack of orange Tic Tacs to make things up between us. It never failed to work.’

  She reached inside a pocket and pulled out a pack of the tiny sweets, shaking it into the microphone. ‘Now it’s my turn. Will, I’m sorry. Sorry I’ve not been around much for the last few years. Sorry I’ve not been a better sister. I love you so much, now and forever.’

  ‘I love you too, sis,’ I said in a shaky voice.

  Lauren wiped away a tear. ‘Now let’s have that minute’s silence for you all to dwell on your own fond memories of Will.’

  My sister remained in the pulpit while the sixty seconds ticked away and everyone sat still in quiet reflection. Then she said a simple ‘thank you’ before returning to sit next to Xander as the vicar took back the reins. For the rest of the service I kept my attention focused on Ella, whispering regular words of encouragement into her ear, hoping they might subconsciously help her get through the day.

  Afterwards, it was on to the crematorium, a ten-minute drive away, although Arthur whisked us both there in an instant.

  ‘That’s some trick,’ I said as we appeared on the front lawn. ‘I could have done with that earlier when I missed my lift and had to get the bus. How does it work?’

  He chuckled. ‘That would be telling. It does come in handy, though. How are you holding up?’

  ‘I’m okay. I felt awkward in the church, like I was eavesdropping, but I was glad to be there for Ella, even though she didn’t know it.’

  ‘Good. One final hurdle.’ He nodded towards the chimney. I’d chosen to be cremated, like Alice had been, as it had felt like a better option than leaving my corpse to rot underground. Now I wasn’t so sure. As I imagined my body – the last physical link to my old life – ablaze in a furnace, I felt distressed. It was tough to accept that I’d never need it again.

  ‘It’s just skin and bone,’ Arthur said, as if he could read my mind. ‘An empty shell. There’s no part of you in there any more.’

  ‘I know. It feels weird, that’s all.’

  ‘I didn’t say it would be easy. Just to warn you, the crematorium service is often the hardest bit for your loved ones. It’s when people usually say their goodbyes.’

  I decided to change the subject while we waited for everyone to arrive. ‘Earlier, when we met outside the church, you asked if I was looking for other spirits.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Well, I wasn’t. Not until you said it. But it’s got me thinking. There weren’t any apart from us. Not that I could see. How come? Isn’t a graveyard the sort of place you would expect spirits to hang out?’

  ‘Hmm, maybe in films. In reality, it’s the last place most spirits want to be after their funeral. Who needs a constant reminder of their death?’

  ‘Why were you there, then?’

  Arthur smiled. ‘I like to keep an eye on the place; the school too. I was responsible for them both when I was alive. I suppose I’ve never let go.’

  ‘How did you know it was my funeral today?’

  ‘A little bird told me.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Someone who cares about you and was concerned you might not cope alone.’

  ‘Lizzie? Did she ask you to come?’

  ‘You shouldn’t be so hard on her. She only wants to help.’

  ‘To help me move on. I’ve told her I want to stay here, but she’s not interested. She won’t answer any of my questions.’

  ‘No? I’m sure she’s doing all she can.’

  Before I had a chance to reply, the hearse containing my coffin pulled into the car park followed by Dad’s BMW. Arthur grabbed my hand and I found myself on the front pew of the crematorium chapel, staring straight at the curtain through which my coffin would soon make its final journey.

  CHAPTER 7

  I don’t want to talk much about what happened in the crematorium, other than to say it was horrible. Arthur had been right to warn me about how my family might react. I’d not realized how much everyone had been bottling up their feelings so far – particularly Mum and Dad – until they came flooding out in a torrent of tears at the end of the short service in the chapel. As hard as it was to witness, I was at least prepared for it with Ella, Mum and Lauren. I wasn’t expecting to see Dad cry. That sight caught me completely unawares. He’d never been a man to show much emotion and was usually the family’s pillar of strength. So watching him lose control like that – so vulnerable, so human – was horrendous.

  I don’t know whether my body was burned straight afterwards or not. Previously, I’d worried that I might somehow feel the flames eating away at my flesh, but such fears paled into insignificance once I witnessed my family’s suffering. Whenever the cremation did happen, I wasn’t aware of it. I felt no physical sensation at all.

  Arthur found me as the others were getting ready to head back to my parents’ house for the wake. I was still sitting on the front pew, shell-shocked. ‘The worst is over now, lad,’ he said gently. ‘How are you feeling?’

  ‘Dreadful. Totally drained. That was far worse than I expected. Seeing them all like that, I can’t help blaming myself for what happened. I keep thinking that if I’d not taken my bike that day, or if I’d left a couple of minutes earlier, or if I’d worn a cycle helmet—’

  ‘Stop. Don’t do that to yourself. It wasn’t your fault. Sometimes terrible things happen. You can’t beat yourself up about it. That won’t change anything and it won’t help anyone. Come on, let’s get out of here. I’ll
take you to the wake.’

  He made to grab my hand, but I stopped him. ‘Wait. Is there any chance we could go somewhere else first? Somewhere peaceful where I can get my head together.’

  ‘Of course,’ he said. I blinked and we were back on the bench overlooking the churchyard where he’d found me earlier. ‘How’s this?’

  ‘Perfect. Thank you.’

  ‘No problem. Listen, I have to go now. I’ve got some business I need to attend to. Can you manage to make your own way to your parents’ house?’

  ‘Oh, um … yes, it’s only a two-minute walk. But I was hoping to talk with you some more. I’ve got a million questions.’

  ‘Another day. Give me a shout. And well done, lad. I mean that.’

  ‘Thanks. How do I—’

  Before I could finish, Arthur had gone.

  ‘Great,’ I said. ‘Another one with the sudden exits.’

  I stayed on the bench, enjoying the silence, for some time. My mind drifted back to Alice’s funeral again. I wondered if she had been around like this – watching me grieve and beg forgiveness for how I’d betrayed her – or whether she’d moved on straight away. I still missed her terribly. I remembered the raw pain I’d felt at the time; the hopelessness and sense of injustice. Was that how my family were feeling now?

  My pain over losing Alice had never gone away. I’d gradually learned to cope with it and the initial angry intensity had faded, but going through that wasn’t something I’d wish on my worst enemy. It was caring for Ella that had kept me together. At the time, having to cope with that on top of everything else had seemed impossibly unfair. But that routine – that purpose – was what stopped me falling into a bottomless pit of hopelessness and self-pity. I realized that a part of my wife was able to live on through Ella. Her appearance and many little things she did reminded me of Alice: from the way her nose crinkled up when she laughed to the stubborn streak I could already see forming in her personality. She was an intelligent little girl too. I could picture her following in her mother’s footsteps as a dentist. That or some other equally prestigious career.

  I was surprised – and touched – to see Alice’s parents in the congregation at my funeral. Margaret and Ron lived in Spain these days, so I hadn’t expected them to make the trip. Mind you, they’d always been good about keeping in touch with their granddaughter. They made an effort to see her at least twice a year and gave generous gifts on her birthday and at Christmas. She would never be as close to them as she was to my parents, but at least they were still in her life.

  The sound of a car starting up jerked my mind back to the present. I’d assumed everyone from the funeral had gone by now and I’d not seen anyone visiting any of the graves, so I wondered who it might be. I stood up and walked to where the car park was visible. A black Audi with tinted windows was turning round. It looked like the same car I’d seen lingering outside my house the other day, which bothered me. Instinctively, I ran towards it.

  Hey,’ I shouted. ‘Who are you? What do you want?’

  But the car pulled away before I could reach it. I continued my pursuit as it stopped to turn on to the main road, but again it drove off before I caught up. I watched it disappear into the distance. ‘Damn,’ I said. ‘Who the hell is that?’

  I headed to my parents’ place: the roomy four-bedroom detached house that I’d grown up in. It was located on a quiet, leafy street full of similar homes, all built in the early 1970s. There were lots of cars parked outside and I could see the silhouettes of countless visitors sipping drinks in the front room. The front door was shut, but at the back I found the patio doors open and Dad lighting a large cigar with his friend Larry, who lived two doors along.

  ‘The church service was lovely,’ Larry was saying. ‘A fitting send-off. Everyone said so. How did it go at the crematorium?’

  ‘Oh, you know,’ Dad replied, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke. ‘As well as could be expected.’ He’d regained his composure but had a vacant, exhausted look about him. ‘Thanks for your help with the catering, Larry. Ann and I appreciate it.’

  ‘You’re welcome. Sylvia did most of the work, anyway. You’ll let us know if there’s anything else we can do, won’t you?’

  ‘Yes. Thanks. You’re good friends.’

  ‘Are you staying here tonight with Ella?’

  ‘That’s the plan. We’ll be moving her here full time in the next few days. We were concerned about uprooting her so soon, but we’ve had several chats with her and she seems okay about it. She’s stayed here plenty of times before and I think it helps knowing that her dad grew up here.’

  ‘Poor thing. First her mother and now her father. No child should have to go through that.’

  ‘I know. I’m amazed she’s coping as well as she is. God knows what’s going on inside that little head of hers.’

  Larry nodded, slowly puffing on his cigar. ‘It only seems five minutes ago that Will was that age, asking for his ball from our garden. He was such a polite lad. Always had plenty to chat about. Ella’s the same, isn’t she? Sylvia and I were only saying the other day how well she talks. She’s a real credit to her father.’

  ‘She is that.’

  ‘Any news about what’s going to happen to the, um, driver?’

  ‘She’s been charged with causing death by dangerous driving. That’s good, as we had feared she might only face death by careless driving, which is less serious. But there’s still a long road ahead. She’ll only plead guilty to the lesser offence, so there will have to be a full trial. It could be a year before it gets to the crown court.’

  ‘A year? That’s ridiculous.’

  ‘It may be less, but I’m not holding my breath.’

  ‘Will she go to prison?’

  ‘If she’s found guilty. The top penalty’s fourteen years, although I doubt she’d get anything like that. It would be four years at the most, I reckon.’

  I generally tried not to think about the crash and the woman who’d caused it, because it made my blood boil yet achieved nothing. Where was she today when my body was burning? I wondered. But I didn’t let the thought process go any further. Instead I moved inside, away from the conversation, and forced myself to refocus.

  The dining room and lounge were bustling with people, which I found uncomfortable, especially since I was the topic on most of their lips. I darted into each room, carefully wending my way between bodies to avoid getting repelled, but Ella was nowhere to be seen. I could hear Mum’s voice coming from the kitchen, so I made that my next port of call. She was in there pouring drinks with Alice’s mother, Margaret, and Larry’s wife, Sylvia.

  ‘Why don’t you go and mingle, Ann?’ Sylvia said. ‘I can take care of this.’

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ Mum replied. ‘You’ve already done more than enough. This is my house. I’m not going to sit around and watch other people do all the work at my son’s wake. It wouldn’t be right.’

  ‘I’ll stay and help Sylvia,’ Margaret said. ‘She’s right. You shouldn’t feel like you have to do everything. I know how awful you must be feeling right now. I remember what I was like after Alice—’

  ‘I said I’m fine,’ Mum snapped, promptly bursting into tears.

  As the other two rallied round to comfort her, I left to continue my hunt for Ella. It was too distressing to see Mum like that – and it wasn’t like I could do anything to help her. I narrowly avoided bumping into Xander in the hall. He’d just returned from walking the dog and was busy hanging up his coat and changing his shoes. Sam started barking at me. He strained at his lead, nearly toppling my brother-in-law in the process. Xander, who managed to hold on to him with one finger, said something aggressive-sounding in Dutch, which I assumed was a request for him to shut up.

  ‘Hello, boy,’ I said to Sam, glad of the attention. ‘So you’re interested in me again, are you? How did you get here? I thought you were still at my place. Did Xander go and pick you up?’

  He continued barking.

  ‘Hmm.
Unfortunately, I’ve no idea what that means, Sam. It’s ironic, considering you’re the only one who has any idea that I’m here.’

  He barked again.

  ‘Where’s Ella, boy? I can’t find her?’

  Sam switched to growling.

  ‘Charming. I’ll check upstairs, shall I?’

  Before reaching the landing I heard the sound of my daughter’s pain through the closed door of her new bedroom. Of course I’d heard her cry countless times before – from urgent tears after falling and grazing her knees to crocodile tears over not getting her own way. But this was different. It was a terrible low-pitched wail of despair. Such a bleak, battered sound had no business coming from the throat of a child.

  My parental instinct kicked in. I needed to take her in my arms and comfort her; to soothe her pain. Yet already, as I raced to her door, I knew that wasn’t possible. If I could just get close to her, I thought, to stand by her side and whisper some comforting words. But no. A newly varnished door stood in my way, firmly shut and – despite being flimsy enough for me to have punched a hole in as a teenager – as secure as a bank vault from me now.

  I lay down and stretched out on the light green carpet of the landing, putting one ear to the small gap at the base of the door. I could hear that gut-wrenching sound more clearly now, but also, thankfully, the quiet voice of my sister. At least that meant Ella wasn’t alone.

  ‘That’s right. Let it all out,’ I heard Lauren say. ‘You’ve been such a brave girl, but sometimes you need to have a good cry. That’s how you deal with your emotions.’

  The crying continued for some time, but it gradually began to fade as Lauren’s calm words soothed her niece. Eventually it was little more than a sob. I heard someone climbing the stairs and quickly rolled away from the door when I saw Xander approach.

  ‘Lauren?’ he called. ‘Are you in there?’

  ‘I’m with Ella,’ she replied through the door. ‘Give us a second.’