Читать книгу Time to Say Goodbye - S.D. Robertson - Страница 8

I couldn’t believe it. She’d replied. I’d said ‘goodnight’ and she’d heard my voice; she’d said ‘night night’ back to me. My instinct was to shout and scream, hoping she’d wake up and see me. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Part of me was afraid it wouldn’t work, but mainly I didn’t want to interrupt her sleep. She looked so peaceful and I knew how much she needed her rest. Be patient, I told myself. Now’s not the right time, but it will come.

I was buzzing. I felt hope. If I could get through to her when she was asleep, then surely there was a chance to do the same when she was awake.

I decided it was time to try to contact Lizzie. She’d given me the impression that it would be impossible for Ella to see or hear me, but now, after what I’d just witnessed, I was sure she was wrong. I needed to get some proper answers.

I walked down the stairs, tiptoeing past the closed door of the kitchen, where Sam was sleeping, to enter the lounge. The landing light barely stretched this far, so the room was shrouded in darkness. I knew my way around, though, and manoeuvred myself into my favourite leather recliner, remembering how comfy it used to feel. Now it didn’t feel like anything. Comfort and discomfort were indistinguishable in my current state. And I could no more push the seat back into the reclined position than I could turn on the TV or pick up the paperback I’d left on the coffee table a couple of nights ago, blissfully unaware that I’d die before finishing it.

‘Hello?’ I said. ‘Are you there, Lizzie? Can you hear me? I need a word.’

‘William,’ a voice replied from across the dark room. ‘I thought you’d never call.’

There was a clicking sound and all the lights turned on. Lizzie was perched on the couch, looking exactly the same as when we’d last met: skirt suit, mac, ponytail.

She smiled. ‘Hello, stranger. Like the dark, do you?’

‘Not especially, but I don’t seem to be able to do simple things like switching on a light any more. Unlike you. How does that work? Is it something I can learn or am I stuck like this? I kind of assumed I’d be less … useless.’

‘You should never assume anything. Assume makes an ass of you and me. You’ve heard that saying, right?’

I waited for her to continue – to answer some of my questions – yet nothing else came. I bore the silence for as long as I could, throwing her my most pathetic, helpless look in a desperate bid to penetrate her defences. But it was futile: she just stared right back at me.

‘Come on,’ I wailed. ‘Give me something. At least tell me why I get hurled against the nearest hard surface whenever I get too close to someone. What’s that all about?’

Lizzie grimaced. ‘Yes. That can be unpleasant. It’s best avoided. There’s nothing you can do, I’m afraid. You simply can’t share the same space as a living person.’

‘Great. Anything else?’

She shook her head. ‘Your stay here as a spirit is supposed to be temporary. Of course if you agree to come with me – to move on – you’ll get all the answers you need. But remember, the clock’s ticking on that option.’

‘How long?’

‘That’s not yet been decided. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear. Do I sense a change of heart? You must be getting lonely on your own.’

‘I’m not on my own. I’m with Ella and my parents.’

‘They can’t see you.’

‘That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.’

‘Oh?’

I shifted forward in my chair. ‘I’ve had a breakthrough.’

Lizzie raised an eyebrow. ‘How so?’

‘I was telling Ella some of her favourite stories after she went to bed tonight. I didn’t think she could hear me, but I did it anyway. It felt right, so I carried on for ages. Then I stopped and said goodnight – and she said it back to me.’

‘She said goodnight to you? I thought she was asleep.’

‘She was. It was like she was talking in her sleep.’

‘It was probably a coincidence. Perhaps she was having a dream in which you said goodnight to her. It’s likely she’ll dream about you as her mind processes what’s happened.’

‘At exactly the same moment? Really? I don’t think so. I’m convinced she could hear me, at least subconsciously. If I can tap into that, why can’t I get through to her when she’s awake? Look at the dog: he knows I’m still here.’

‘The dog?’

‘Sam, my parents’ King Charles. He can’t stop barking at me. Lizzie, I’m not going to be fobbed off. Tell me the truth. Please. I’m begging you.’

Lizzie sat up and fixed her chocolate-brown eyes on me. Her nose gave that odd rabbit twitch again, which I guessed was a tic. There was a long pause before she said: ‘It’s complicated.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘There are certain things I’m not permitted to talk to you about. My job is to help you move on.’

‘But if Sam can see me, why can’t she?’

‘She’s not a dog.’

‘I’m glad you cleared that up. Come on, Lizzie, don’t be obstructive. You know what I’m asking.’

‘I’m stating facts. These things work differently for animals from how they do for humans.’

‘You can’t do this to me. You’re all I’ve got. Please, tell me. Don’t you have a heart? This is my six-year-old daughter we’re talking about. Ella used to make me promise that I’d never leave her – that she’d never be alone – and now, as far as she’s concerned, I have. She thinks I’ve broken my promise, abandoning her without even saying goodbye. What will that do to her as she grows up?’

‘I’m sorry, but I can’t help you. At least Ella has her grandparents to look after her. They obviously love her very much.’

‘Yes, but they’re my parents, not hers. I’m her father. Please, Lizzie. Imagine if you were Ella. Wouldn’t you want to see me again? Wouldn’t you want to know the truth? You must have had a father once.’

Lizzie stared at her hands. I was getting somewhere. ‘Come on,’ I said. ‘Give me something, anything. I’m right, aren’t I? It is possible that I might be able to communicate with Ella. Give me that.’

‘There’s nothing I can do.’

The lights flicked off again.

‘Lizzie?’ I said. ‘Are you there?’ But I already knew the answer. It made me want to scream with frustration.

‘Some guide you are,’ I said to the empty lounge. Then I remembered those three magical words again: ‘Night night, Daddy.’ They fuelled my passion and kept me positive. I’d given Lizzie plenty of opportunity to deny the possibility of me communicating with my daughter, but she hadn’t. I could cling to that.