motivate myself to find him. I felt paralysed. Then one rainy morning, when Mum and Dad had taken Ella to school and I was alone in my childhood home, something snapped. It dawned on me that more than three weeks had passed since my funeral. There were just five and a half weeks left now until my deadline. Then I would have to decide whether to stay or go forever.
Despite what I’d told Lizzie, I knew deep down that there was a serious choice to make. It was hard to admit, as I was desperate to stay here with Ella, but I knew I had to at least consider the idea of moving on if things didn’t change. The problem was that I had no idea who or what I might find on the other side. Nor did I know the full implications of staying here for all eternity as a spirit. A paranoid part of me wondered whether I could take Lizzie’s word as gospel truth. What if she wasn’t who she said she was? That might explain her unhelpfulness. Then I recalled Arthur saying she’d asked him to attend my funeral. Perhaps I couldn’t trust him either.
Stop being ridiculous, I thought, reminding myself of Arthur’s support. He was the closest thing I had to a friend in this in-between world I occupied. I needed to contact him and, with the clock ticking, now was as good a time as any. So as soon as Mum and Dad returned home and I was able to slip out, I walked to the church. I found Arthur under the lych gate, sheltering from the rain.
‘Hello, lad. How are you doing? I expected to hear from you sooner.’
‘Hello, Arthur. I let things get on top of me for a bit, but I’m here now. I’ve got a lot of questions. Any chance we could have a chat?’
‘Of course. Let’s get somewhere a bit drier.’
He held out his hand and, as soon as I took it, we appeared together on a pew inside the empty church.
‘Hold on,’ I said. ‘Why did you want to get out of the rain? Why were you hiding from it under the lych gate?’
‘It’s coming down quite hard, in case you hadn’t noticed.’
‘I had, but only because I can see it. I can’t feel it at all. I can’t feel anything. Can you?’
‘That’s an interesting question,’ Arthur replied. ‘The answer is complicated.’
‘I’m in no rush.’
‘No. I don’t suppose you are. I assume you have other things to ask too.’
‘I do.’
‘Okay. How about I start by summing up all the important stuff? You listen and then, afterwards, you can fire away with any questions you’ve still got. What do you say?’
‘That sounds good.’
‘Excellent. I’m not sure how much you’ve already been told, but I’m guessing not a lot, so I’ll start with the basics. When we die, our souls are released from our bodies. It’s the same for all humans. What differs is where they go to next, which depends on what each person got up to during their life. Some are invited upstairs and some go downstairs.’
‘Heaven and Hell?’
‘Essentially, although those are just names. I prefer not to use them any more. The reality of what happens after we die isn’t as simple as folk like to think.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘Well, look at you and me – detached spirits in the land of the living. Where do we fit into Christian doctrine?’ Arthur ran one hand through his white hair. ‘It’s only the really bad apples who go downstairs. The rest get another chance, although I’m not the one to tell you about what happens up there. I’m as clueless as you on that score.’
‘How—’
‘Bear with me, lad. Listen now; ask questions later. The big difference is that the bad apples don’t get any say. Their souls are marched away – and that’s it. The option to stay here is strictly an upstairs thing. You’ve earned the right to retain your free will. Hence you get to choose whether you want to move on or not. Most do, of course. Otherwise, there would be spirits walking around all over the place. How long do you have left to decide?’
‘Until December the twelfth.’
‘That’s generous. The situation with your daughter has obviously been taken into account. Anyway, I’m sure it’s already been made clear to you that, should you choose to stay after that point, there’s no second chance. You’ll be stuck here for good.’
‘Like you?’
‘Yes, like me.’
‘Why—’
‘Later. Let me finish. You asked if I could feel anything. Well, yes, some things. Not like I could when I was alive, but to a degree. How to describe it? I suppose it’s a bit like touching something when you’re wearing rubber gloves.’
He paused for a second before adding: ‘For you it’s like walking around in a bubble. Physically you can’t feel anything, yes?’
I nodded. ‘Apart from when I interact with you. Or Lizzie, my guide. That’s because you’re dead too, right?’
‘Exactly. The rest of it – that’s because you’re a visitor. You’re here on a kind of guest pass, which only affords certain privileges. You get more freedom if you choose to stay for good.’
‘So you can touch? You can open doors and move things around? You can interact with people?’
‘Hold your horses. I didn’t say that. I said I could feel some things, such as the rain. It’s more of a reminder, an echo, than a proper sensation. I don’t actually get wet or cold or anything like that, although I do find the rain a bit unpleasant. It sort of … itches. But I’m still a spirit with no physical presence. I can’t occupy the same space as a living person any more than you can. Don’t kid yourself. It’s not like everything goes back to normal if you decide to stay. You’re still dead; all you get is a taste of what you used to have.’
‘But what about that transporting thing that you do?’
Arthur laughed. ‘Impressive, isn’t it? That’s one perk you do get as a permanent spirit – and it does help with staying out of folk’s way – but that’s pretty much it.’
‘What about communicating with people? You know how desperate I am to contact Ella.’
‘That’s a bit of a grey area. Officially, none of us are supposed to be able to communicate with the living, regardless of the permanency or otherwise of our status. However, that’s not to say it can’t happen. A lot depends on the living person involved: whether they’re tuned into that kind of thing or not and how strong a bond there is between them and the deceased.’
I recounted the two occasions on which Ella had appeared to sense me. ‘Does that mean there’s a chance of something more?’
‘Maybe. It’s definitely something to work with. The fact that she’s so young is likely to help. Children tend to be far more receptive than adults. Their minds aren’t cluttered with the kind of junk that blinkers most folk.’
‘So what next?’
‘If you’re a hundred per cent sure that you want to contact Ella; that it’s the right thing to do—’
I held up one hand to stop him. ‘Hang on a second. What does that mean? Why wouldn’t it be? She’s my only daughter. I disappeared without saying goodbye. First her mother and then me. She thinks I broke my promise never to leave her.’
‘Yes, I know that. But don’t forget that she’s just said goodbye to you. If this works – and there’s no guarantee it will – hearing from you now, from beyond the grave, will at the very least be confusing for her. You’ve had time to get used to what you are; she hasn’t. How often have you told her there are no such things as ghosts?’
He paused for a moment, his eyes widening as they stared deep inside me. ‘See what I mean? You’ll be messing with the normal