Time to Say Goodbye

by S. D. Robertson

  ‘Kl-ein-tje,’ she repeated. ‘Kleintje.’

  ‘Perfect. You’re a natural. I think you could learn to speak Dutch very well.’

  ‘You’re not a kleintje, are you, Uncle Xander?’ she giggled. ‘You’re too big for this tent. And you’re not a princess. So you shouldn’t be in here.’

  ‘You want me to get out? What a meanie. What about if I tell you a secret instead?’

  ‘What kind of secret? Is it a good one?’

  ‘It’s a very good one. I know you’ll like it.’

  ‘Um … okay, then. Tell me.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes. Please tell me. Pleeease.’

  ‘Right then. Here goes …’

  CHAPTER 33

  THREE HOURS LEFT

  I thought Xander was going to tell Ella that Lauren was pregnant. Goodness knows why. It must have been because of what Ella had said the other day about wanting them to have a baby. Anyway, that wasn’t it at all. What he actually said to her came as a total shock.

  ‘You know how your auntie and I live in Holland, which means we don’t see you that much?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well, we’re actually going to move here.’

  Ella’s voice leaped in pitch. ‘Here? In this house?’

  ‘To start with. After a while we plan to buy our own place, but it will be somewhere nearby. Probably in the village. So it won’t just be you and Nana. You’ll have us too.’

  ‘Really? You’re coming here for good?’

  ‘That’s the idea. We’ve worked out a way that we can run our business over there while living here. The internet makes these things much easier than they used to be. Meanwhile, we want to expand what we do into this country. The beauty of weddings is that people get married all over the world.’

  ‘You don’t mind? Won’t you miss Holland?’

  ‘Of course, but a change will be nice and I’ll still be flying back on the odd occasion. Plus I’ll have my favourite niece close by to play games with. What could be better?’

  ‘Have you told Nana?’

  ‘Yes. She seems to like the idea. What do you think of it?’

  ‘Really good,’ Ella replied, leaning over to give Xander another big hug.

  ‘Well, you think about that today when you’re feeling sad about your grandad. Hopefully it will make you feel a bit happier. Anyway, I’d better go and see what your auntie’s up to. Otherwise we’ll never get out of here in time.’

  With a lot of bending and squeezing, Xander manoeuvred his way out of the tent and back on to his feet.

  ‘Did you hear all that, Daddy?’ Ella asked once her uncle was out of earshot.

  ‘I certainly did, darling. It’s great news.’

  ‘I thought he was going to say they were having a baby,’ she added. ‘This is better, though, because if they had a baby in Holland, I’d never see it. Maybe they’ll have one here. That would be brilliant.’

  ‘Sure,’ I replied, not wanting to dampen her spirits with any suggestion that might not happen. ‘Will you be all right today?’

  ‘I think so. But I’ll be glad when it’s over. Is Grandad getting crematoriumed like you did?’

  ‘Cremated, you mean. No. He and Nana have a plot in the churchyard where they can be buried together.’

  Ella’s eyes stretched wide with panic. ‘Together? But Nana’s not dead.’

  ‘No, darling,’ I said, kicking myself for putting that idea in her head. ‘It just means that when she does eventually die, which I’m sure won’t be for a very long time, she’ll be buried in the same place. Their coffins will be together.’

  ‘Under the ground … with their bodies still inside?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Yuk. Won’t creepy-crawlies get in there?’

  ‘I think coffins are well sealed. But what would it matter? Bodies are empty shells, like clothes that aren’t needed any more. Look at me: I’m still here without mine. And I’ve seen Grandad without his. He can walk and talk like he used to before the stroke.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yep. Just like the old Grandad we know and love.’

  ‘That’s good. I don’t think I’d like my body buried in the ground, though. I’d rather be crematoriumed.’

  ‘Ella?’ Mum’s voice called from downstairs. ‘Are you ready, love? We need to leave.’

  ‘Coming, Nana.’

  ‘I’ll meet you at the church,’ I told Ella.

  A look of alarm flashed across her face. ‘You are coming, aren’t you?’

  ‘Yes, honestly. I’ll be there. I fancy a walk, that’s all.’

  ‘Promise?’

  ‘Promise.’

  ‘Pinky promise?’

  I held my little finger close to hers. ‘Pinky promise.’

  Ella let me out of the front door. The garden was still coated in white. It hadn’t snowed again, but what was left on the ground wasn’t going anywhere. ‘Nine twenty,’ I said after peering through the window at the carriage clock in the lounge. Just forty minutes until the funeral service was due to start and two hours on top of that until midday. Here I was entering the final straight.

  Although it wasn’t the first time I’d walked in the snow as a spirit, I still hadn’t got used to it. There was no crunch of it being crushed under my weight. And the fact I left no footprints felt weird, like I didn’t exist.

  ‘Lizzie?’ I called after walking a little way along the street.

  She appeared alongside me. ‘Hello, William. Good to see you. How are things?’

  I shrugged. ‘Okay, I guess, considering what’s about to happen. I assume you know Dad and I have spoken.’

  She nodded.

  ‘I’ve said I’ll attend the funeral. I’m on my way there now.’

  ‘Would you like me to come with you?’

  ‘No, thanks. You can walk with me, but I’ll handle it by myself when I get there.’

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘When it was my funeral, you offered to smarten me up. Any chance you could do that now?’

  ‘Sure. Any preference?’

  ‘Just a simple black suit and tie will be fine.’

  She tapped my shoulder and it was done. No more frayed jeans and T-shirt.

  ‘How’s that?’

  ‘Perfect. Thanks.’ I paused before adding: ‘All very neat the way it’s fallen: Dad’s funeral just before my deadline. Did you have a hand in that?’

  A flicker of a smile darted across her lips. ‘Why ever would you think such a thing?’

  We walked a few more steps in silence before she asked me if I’d made my decision.

  ‘I think so. Yes.’

  ‘And?’

  I stopped walking and turned to look her in the eye. I knew the words I wanted to say but they were so big – so final – they stuck in my throat. ‘I, um. I—’

  ‘William?’

  She dragged it out of me. Made me say it. And then she nodded her acceptance.

  I walked the last part of the route to the church alone. I got there a few minutes before Mum, Lauren, Ella and Xander. When they arrived Ella, who was arm in arm with her auntie, gave me a discreet wave.

  ‘Come on,’ Xander said to the others. ‘We need to get inside before everyone starts arriving.’

  At that moment the hearse turned into the driveway of the church. Mum, whose skin looked deathly pale against the black of her outfit, let out an involuntary yelp at the sight of the coffin in the back as it pulled up alongside them. It was the first thing I’d heard come out of her mouth that morning and it was heart-breaking to witness. Her recent strength seemed to have left her and, standing there next to her giant son-in-law, she looked terribly small and vulnerable. At least Xander was there for her, unlike me and Dad. He put a strong arm around her, whispering something supportive, before having a brief word with the funeral director and then leading the others inside.

  ‘I’ll be there in a minute,’ I called to Ella as she glanced back at me
before entering the church. ‘I’m going to see if I can find Grandad.’

  A quick circuit of the building didn’t turn up any clues. Perhaps he’s already inside, I thought. But then it occurred to me that he might be at the grave. I remembered him showing me the plot once, several years ago when Alice and I had been up from London for a visit. They were expensive and hard to come by these days. I recalled him being proud to have got it, even though it was quite a way from the church.

  ‘I’d have booked a spot for you too, son,’ he’d said at the time, a sunny Easter Sunday. ‘But I reckoned you and Alice would want to make your own arrangements. Not that you need to worry about things like that at your age.’

  ‘You’re not that old yourself, Dad,’ I remembered replying. ‘I don’t think either of us has much to worry about yet.’

  How wrong I’d been.

  I followed the path that led to the plot, in a field behind a tall wall of snow-topped conifers. The graves here were more modern and less ostentatious than those in the main churchyard. Then I saw him, his bulky spirit form standing in sombre silence at the foot of the hole soon to contain his coffin. The dark brown of the freshly dug soil stood in stark contrast to the wintry blanket covering the rest of the plots. There was no sign of Hardy, although his handiwork was evident in the fact that Dad was dressed in a three-piece black suit and overcoat. It was much better than his pyjamas and dressing gown. He almost looked like his old self again.

  He must have already spotted me, as he didn’t seem surprised by my arrival.

  ‘Hello, son,’ he said, continuing to stare into the open grave. ‘Do you think the ground was hard to dig with it being so cold? I mean, I guess it’s cold. It looks freezing, but I can’t feel anything any more. Can you?’

  ‘No. Takes a bit of getting used to, doesn’t it?’

  ‘I’m really glad that you’re here. All smartened up to boot. You look good, son.’

  ‘You too, Dad.’

  ‘Well, I didn’t think my pyjamas would be suitable. Did you expect something more flamboyant?’

  ‘What, because you’re gay? Don’t be ridiculous. The thought never occurred to me.’

  ‘I know that’s how they always portray, um … us. You know, in the media.’

  ‘Camp, you mean?’

  ‘Exactly. But I’m not like that. I never have been. It’s not that I was hiding my true nature from you and the rest of the family. Well, I suppose I was, but … what I mean is … I’m the same person you know, apart from the obvious. I’m not some screaming queen in hot pink Spandex.’

  ‘I never thought you were. Give me some credit. Being gay is pretty normal to someone of my generation, you know.’

  ‘Right. Sorry, Will. I, um, just wanted you to know that it wasn’t all lies.’

  ‘Okay, Dad.’

  ‘Are you coming in for the service?’

  ‘Yes, of course. I told Ella I’d sit with her.’

  ‘Oh, right. Good.

  ‘There’s something I don’t understand,’ Dad said. ‘How come you’re still here? You’ve been like this a lot longer than I have. Why haven’t you passed over yet? Is it something to do with Ella? Is that why she can see you?’

  ‘It is because of Ella. I said I needed some time and they gave it to me. The reason she can see me is more complicated. But now isn’t the time for an explanation. We ought to be getting to the church.’

  He looked back down at his grave. ‘How was it at your funeral?’

  ‘You were there.’

  ‘Of course, but I mean … how did it feel for you to be there?’

  ‘Um, weird, I guess. Heart-breaking. I don’t know. It was all a bit of a blur. I suppose I felt I shouldn’t have been there. Like I was intruding on something not meant for my eyes. But with hindsight, I’m glad I went. It helped.’

  ‘Part of me wishes I wasn’t here. I’m terrified of seeing your mum and sister; Ella too. How are they all holding up?’

  His question sparked a surge of anger within me that took me by surprise. I almost snapped and started accusing him again of being a selfish coward. But I held still and let the feeling wash over me, waiting for the fury to pass before answering. ‘As well as you’d expect. Mum’s been really strong so far, but she was struggling when I saw her a few minutes ago. Lauren and Ella were doing better, but that probably won’t last. Xander’s trying to hold things together.’

  Dad stared into the distance. Every pore of his spirit form oozed guilt and regret. My job now was to be his son, I told myself; not his tormentor.

  ‘Do you think Ella will be able to see me?’ he whispered.

  I shrugged. ‘She asked me the same thing, although she looked a lot keener on the idea than you do. I honestly don’t know. Why don’t we go and find out?’

  ‘Yes, let’s do that,’ Hardy snapped, appearing next to us.

  ‘Been eavesdropping again?’ I said.

  He glared at me before grabbing Dad’s hand. The two of them disappeared, leaving me to walk back to the church alone.

  It was a couple of minutes before 10 a.m. by the time I reached the front entrance. Fortunately it was still open as the last few arrivals made their way inside. One in particular caught my attention: Charles Devlin. As smart as ever, dressed in a black version of his usual business attire, he was standing alone a few paces from the door, taking long drags on the stub of a cigarette.

  What are you doing here? I thought. I wasn’t sure whether Mum had invited him in the end or not, but I hoped for everyone’s sake that he was going to behave. He stubbed out his cigarette in the snow before flicking it into a bush and heading inside. He looked ill at ease; rattled. I followed him through the door into a sea of black jackets, ties, dresses, skirts, shoes and coats. Scanning the crowd, half of whom I didn’t recognize, drew my attention away from Devlin for a moment. But when my eyes landed on Dad, standing at the back with Hardy, the look of shock on his face led me back to his lover. He took an order of service and hymn book and scuttled to an empty spot on a pew a couple of metres away from my father.

  Ella beamed at me from the front row. ‘Come on, face forward now,’ Lauren whispered as I slid into place beside her.

  ‘Is he here?’ Ella asked in a tiny voice meant only for me.

  A moment earlier she’d been looking directly at where Dad was standing.

  ‘Yes. He’s at the back.’

  She whipped her head around again and then threw me a confused look.

  ‘I don’t think you’re going to be able to see him, darling. But if there’s anything you’d like to say, I can pass it on.’

  Ella gave me a tiny nod and turned to face the coffin in front of us. It was strange to think of Dad’s body being in there, especially when I knew his spirit was present too. At least it wasn’t an open coffin.

  Mum looked a mess. After holding it together for so long – being strong for everyone else – she’d finally crumbled. She was hunched up on the pew, her face ice white apart from the dark bags under her eyes, staring blankly ahead. Lauren and Xander were on either side of her, but she barely acknowledged them when they tried to speak to her.

  Lauren had noticed Devlin and kept looking back at him, as if to check he wasn’t causing a scene. I’d also spotted Kate Andrews, the Evening Journal reporter, who thankfully was several rows away from him. I wasn’t surprised to see her, having been sent to plenty of funerals myself as a local reporter. As promised, her article about Dad’s death hadn’t been sensationalized, so I was fairly confident she would be discreet now and do nothing to intrude on my family’s grief. I just hoped that Devlin wouldn’t give her anything scandalous to report on. Little did she know the potential he had to upset the proceedings.

  It wasn’t long before the vicar appeared from the vestry and the service got underway. He’d known my father pretty well, as my parents had been members of the congregation for years, and he spoke fondly of Dad as a kind and popular man. He commented on how the tragedy of Dad’s death was all
the worse because of how soon it came after mine. And he called on everyone present to do their utmost to help Mum and the rest of the family to get through this difficult time.

  It fell once again to Lauren to speak at the service. Mum had planned to say something too but wasn’t in any state to do so.

  ‘I never thought I’d be standing here again so soon,’ Lauren said from the pulpit, her voice emotional but steady. ‘Last time it was to talk about my brother, Will. Now it’s Dad’s turn. This family’s been through the mill in the last couple of months. It’s no secret how my father died. There’s no way of sugar-coating it, so I’m not going to. But who are we to judge? Only he knows what was going through his mind on that night. I’ve tried being angry at him, but it won’t stick. Instead I wish I’d been there for him when he needed me. And, more than anything, I miss my dad. We all go through dark times; some worse than others.’

  Lauren paused to take a deep breath and to wipe away a tear. Then she continued, her voice increasingly fragile. ‘I had my dark time several years ago. Some of you will remember. I hit rock bottom and it took a long time to get back on track. My dad was there for me without question or hesitation, despite everything I’d done to drive him away. All I had to do was turn to him and ask for his forgiveness, his help, and there it was. His love for me was unconditional, no matter what, and so is my love for him. That’s what it means to be family. Dad, if you can hear me, know this: I love you; I miss you; I forgive you. I pray that you find peace.’

  As Lauren climbed down from the pulpit, fighting back a flood of tears, I looked back to see how Dad had reacted. It was only then that I noticed he was standing next to me, eyes fixed on Mum’s hunched figure. She looked frozen rigid with grief. I’d been so transfixed by Lauren’s words that I’d not seen Dad’s approach. His head was bowed. I reached my arm around the huge expanse of his back, but he jerked away.

  ‘Dad, are you okay?’ I asked. He shook his head, unable to meet my eye.

  ‘Come on. Let’s get you outside.’

  I looked over at Ella, who’d heard my side of the conversation and nodded her understanding. As the congregation stood to sing a hymn, I led Dad back to where Hardy remained at the rear of the church.