My own tears I kept until after we had left Naomi.
‘Is it really like watching television?’ I asked when the tears had stopped. I tried to imagine myself queuing up for my turn in front of a bank of television screens so I could pick up the latest episode of Naomi’s life.
‘The whole world’s a television,’ George said.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
It was Christmas Eve and I watched as Naomi helped Marc put the final touches to the presents they had bought. I would have had them wrapped weeks ago but Marc had always been a last-minute bloke so I wasn’t surprised that he had left them until now.
First they had wrapped a jumper for my dad and now they worked together to wrap my mother’s favourite perfume. I knelt with them and watched as Naomi held the edges in place and Marc secured them with tape.
I felt like part of my own family again and realised it would probably be for the last time.
As I walked the streets that night for what would be the last time, on this side at least, I wondered what the Other Side was like. Would I feel different? I had so many questions going round in my head but there was one that cropped up more than the rest.
Would I see Matthew?
As I passed a church, it felt natural to follow the crowd heading in its direction. Midnight Mass was about to start.
We had always gone to Midnight Mass when I was a child and I remembered it fondly. I wondered where my mother was and if she would be attending this Christmas. I hoped that she could find it within herself to return to the church at some point. It had always meant so much to her. Her faith had been so strong. I realised it was one of the things I had always admired about her.
I hadn’t planned on staying long but before I knew it the communion procession had finished, the priest had given the Christmas Blessing, and the congregation was leaving.
I felt the gentle crush of frost forming as I walked along. It was a cold night and although there was no hint of snow, the ground would be white on Christmas morning.
I sat in the pistachio room in the semi-darkness. The only light came from the Christmas tree that stood in the corner.
We’d always left the Christmas tree lit on Christmas Eve and I was happy that the tradition was still going. We’d started doing it the year after Naomi was born. Marc had laughed at first when I suggested that Santa might trip over something if we didn’t leave a light on but he played along. We’d left the tree lights on that Christmas Eve and each of the five since then.
I was smiling when I heard footsteps on the stairs.
A minute or two later, the door opened and there stood Marc and Naomi.
Marc flicked a switch and the lights came on. I saw Naomi and she saw me. We smiled at each other.
‘It’s cold in here,’ Marc said, pulling his dressing gown tighter around himself. He ran his hand along the radiator.
‘It’s not cold, Daddy.’ Naomi looked at me and gave her head a shake as she pulled on Marc’s sleeve and dragged him towards the presents. I couldn’t help but smile. Despite everything, she was still a little girl on Christmas morning which was exactly as it should be.
And so the ritual present opening began. One by one, Naomi opened her gifts. She seemed to have more than usual this year but I guessed that was Marc’s way of compensating. Each present was inspected carefully before being put to one side while the paper was discarded onto a pile. Eventually, Naomi reached for the last present. I knew it must be the talking teddy.
Marc looked on with a smile on his face as Naomi opened the top of the present carefully and then, once she realised what was inside, she ripped the paper frantically. She pulled it out and held it aloft triumphantly.
She jumped up and threw her arms around Marc’s neck
‘Thank you,’ she said as she climbed onto his knee.
‘Is it the right one?’ he asked, kissing the top of her head. She nodded as she pressed the bear’s stomach and forced him to speak. ‘You wouldn’t rather have had the white one?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘I told Mummy it was the chocolate one I wanted.’
Marc lowered his head until it rested on Naomi’s. She turned her head to look at me.
I knew it was now or never. This was the chance I had been waiting for. My last chance, my only chance.
I coughed to clear my throat. ‘Naomi,’ I said. ‘Will you tell Daddy I’m here?’ She looked at me but said nothing. ‘Please.’
Naomi pulled her head out from under Marc’s and looked at him. ‘Daddy,’ she said cautiously. ‘Please don’t be mad at me because I’m not making this up.’
‘Making what up, sweetheart?’
‘Mummy said to tell you she’s here.’
Marc’s head shot up and his eyes searched the room.
‘She’s over there.’ She nodded her head in my direction.
‘Is that why it’s so cold?’ His words were slow and nervous.
I told Naomi what to say. ‘She says she’s sorry about that but she’s been here all night.’ She sounded very serious as she told him, ‘She has to go away.’
‘What do you mean? Away where?’
‘The Other Side,’ Naomi said, sounding like the fountain of knowledge. ‘But she’ll still be able to watch us, and she’ll never stop loving us.’
I realised then as I listened to Naomi’s babbling that she was just a child and maybe the reality of what had happened in the last few months wasn’t real to her at all.
‘Naomi,’ I said, ‘I need you to tell Daddy …’
‘Ellen.’ I turned as I heard Marc say my name. He was looking straight at me. The difference this time was that I knew he could see me. ‘Ellen.’ He eased Naomi off his knee and stood up.
‘Marc.’ My voice was a whisper.
‘What’s happening?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘How can you be here?’
‘I don’t know.’
We looked at each other in silence. But silence wasn’t a luxury I could afford. ‘Marc, there’s so much …’
‘Oh God, Ellen, I’ve missed you so much.’ He covered his mouth with his hands.
I looked at him and felt his love as strongly as ever before. ‘I know,’ I mouthed.
‘Are you alright?’ He laughed at his own question.
‘Yes,’ I laughed too. ‘I’m fine. It’s not so bad when you get used to it.’ I pushed my hair behind my ears. ‘It’s the getting used to it that’s the challenge.’
‘I can’t believe this.’ Marc shook his head. ‘I’m going to wake up in a minute and Naomi’s going to be asking me who I’m talking to.’
‘You’re not asleep, this is real.’
‘I don’t understand …’
‘Nor do I but I’ve learnt not to question things.’
There was something I had to say before it was too late.
‘I’m happy for you,’ I said.
He shook his head. ‘I don’t understand.’
I rubbed the end of my nose, the way I always did when I was preparing to say something difficult. ‘I’m happy for you … about Amy.’
He opened his mouth but it was a few seconds before any words came out. ‘Amy?’
‘Yes, I like her,’ I smiled. ‘And I think you like her too.’
He looked a little sheepish. ‘You don’t mind?’
‘No.’ It wasn’t a lie, ‘I don’t mind. You have to move on.’
‘You’re sure you don’t mind?’
How well he knew me.
‘I did at first,’ I admitted. ‘But the more I thought about it, the more I realised that all I really wanted was for you to be happy.’
Marc looked away. ‘I thought I’d never be happy again.’
‘Are you happy?’
‘Yes.’ He made it sound like an apology.
‘Good,’ I smiled.
There was another silence.
Marc ran his fingers through his hair in the way I adored. ‘I’ll always love you,’ he said. I think he
sensed that we didn’t have a lot of time.
I nodded. I could feel tears forming in the corners of my eyes.
‘I know … and I’ll never stop loving you.’
The tears fell from my eyes and rolled down my cheeks and off the end of my chin. ‘Marc,’ I said. ‘There are some things I need to tell you before I have to go.
‘You’re doing a fantastic job with Naomi. We made something beautiful together. Our love made something beautiful. Just keep doing what you’re doing. She’s a good kid and if you show her that you love her, you’ll be fine.’ I paused. ‘Try not to cut my mother out. I know things have never been easy for the pair of you but she needs the contact with Naomi and Naomi needs that too.’ I paused again. ‘Oh, and if you can ever drop it into conversation, tell her I once told you I loved her very much and wished I’d shown it more.’
I looked over at Naomi, who was playing happily with her new teddy. She was lost in a world of her own.
‘About Amy,’ I said, looking deep into his eyes. ‘I don’t know if she’s the right one for you, only you know that. All I ask is that you can find someone who makes you happy and who can love Naomi at least half as much as I do.’
Naomi looked at me and smiled. Maybe she wasn’t as far away as I’d thought.
‘Just promise me you’ll be happy,’ I said.
‘I promise.’
I beckoned to Naomi and she came towards me slowly. She stood at my knees. ‘You know I’ve got to go now,’ I said and she nodded, looking at me through eyes that seemed larger than normal. ‘But remember what I said about how I’ll be able to see you. So you must be a good girl, because if you aren’t then I’ll know.’ Her head bobbed up and down. ‘And I want you to remember that no matter where I am, I still love you. That is never going to change. Can you do that?’
This time she nodded her head slowly.
‘Why do you have to go away, Mummy?’ she asked.
‘I don’t know, darling,’ I said. ‘I don’t understand it. I just know that I do … and I have to go today.’
I could sense something happening and I knew my time was almost over. I reached out a hand and ran it down Naomi’s hair. I reached the other out to Marc. He moved his hand towards mine and our fingertips brushed against each other. There was no need to speak but I couldn’t have if I’d wanted to.
It was time.
‘Goodbye, Marc,’ I said, sniffing back a tear.
‘Goodbye,’ he croaked.
‘Bye, Naomi,’
She looked at me through serious eyes. ‘Goodbye, Mummy.’
As I turned, I noticed the light again. It was just as bright but this time my eyes didn’t need to adjust to it. I knew that was where I was going and took a step towards it. I wondered if Marc and Naomi could see it too.
‘Oh,’ I said turning around. ‘Do you remember the park where we used to take Naomi?’ Marc nodded. ‘Do you remember the pond where we used to feed the ducks?’ Again, he nodded. ‘Would you see if the council will let you put a bench there for me?’ Marc nodded one last time.
After a final look and a deep breath I walked beyond the light.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
It was Christmas Day on the Other Side too. My Gran and Granddad were there, each sporting a paper hat. And I could have sworn I could smell a turkey cooking. My grandparents held out their arms and took me into their embrace.
When I stood back from them I looked over to George. I followed his eyes to the left, where a child played with some building blocks. I felt myself stumble. George moved to support me but I regained my composure and held up my hand. I looked at my grandmother but couldn’t force the question out of my mouth. She answered with a nod.
I moved to the child and knelt down. At first, he didn’t notice me. He bashed two blocks together and giggled, his soft curls bobbing. I picked up a block from the floor and offered it to him.
He looked up at me warily through the same dark eyes his father had. At first he just looked. Then a smile formed on his lips and he set the blocks aside. He had to half turn and use his hands to force himself up onto his tiny feet with his back to me. Those tiny feet supported his chubby legs as he carefully manoeuvred himself round and took the steps needed to move to me.
‘Ma-ma?’ It sounded like a question.
‘Yes,’ I said as I scooped Matthew into my arms and held him tightly.
I had been in this new place for what was probably a few hours. This new place that looked remarkably like the living room of my grandparents’ house when my grandmother had been alive. I sat on the lumpy sofa with Matthew asleep on my lap. I stroked his face and his hair. George was sat close by and I looked at him from time to time. He was looking at me with a smile on his lips.
Granddad appeared with someone dressed from head to toe in white. Their clothes were in stark contrast to their hair, which was jet black.
‘You’ve got a visitor,’ Granddad said to George.
George stood up. ‘Arthur,’ he said by way of greeting.
Arthur did not greet George. Arthur was busy studying some papers he held in his hand. Arthur didn’t look at me but he did wave his pen in my direction. ‘Is this Ellen Reed?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ George said, looking over at me.
Arthur finally looked at George. ‘Better late than never,’ he said.
George dropped his head to the side. ‘Yeah, sorry about that.’
It was clear that Arthur was trying to intimidate George. He was looking down his nose, through tiny slits of eyes. I didn’t like this newcomer and didn’t like the way he was talking to my friend. I slid Matthew onto the sofa and stood by the men.
‘What are you apologising for?’ I asked George.
George was still looking at Arthur, who flicked to the second sheet of paper. I could sense the contempt that George was feeling.
Arthur looked up from the papers. ‘There were certain procedures you failed to follow correctly,’ he said.
‘I know, but I did the best I could,’ George offered with an edge in his voice.
‘Your best, eh?’ Arthur looked at George from under what were ridiculously bushy eyebrows. ‘Do you think it was good enough?’
‘She’s here, isn’t she?’
‘Hang on a minute. Who is he?’ I asked.
‘Arthur,’ he said.
‘I heard his name,’ I said glancing at the newcomer, ‘but who is he?’
‘My supervisor.’
‘Oh.’ I spun round. ‘Hello, Arthur, I’m Ellen. Is there anything I can help you with?’
Arthur was unnerved and looked down at his papers. ‘No thank you, Ellen,’ he said. ‘I’ve just come to have a word with George.’
‘What about?’ He flicked over another sheet. ‘What is this you’re looking at?’ I asked, straining my neck to see. I saw my name in bold print.
‘Nothing you should be concerned about,’ Arthur said.
‘They’re about me, aren’t they?’
‘No,’ he denied.
‘I saw my name at the top.’
Arthur looked at me and said through pursed lips, ‘If you don’t mind, I need to debrief George.’
‘Of course I don’t mind,’ I said. ‘But what was this about procedures not followed? I’d like to know if I didn’t get the full service’
‘Maybe you should come to the office later?’ Arthur suggested, flicking the sheets over and straightening them. George was nodding without making eye contact.
‘No,’ I said. ‘Do it now, that’s what you came for.’
Arthur looked at George, who shrugged his shoulders. Arthur lifted his nose into the air and took a deep breath.
‘Very well,’ he said, looking round for somewhere to sit. He chose a chair at the table and brushed some imaginary crumbs from the oil cloth before putting his papers down. He shuffled through the papers and pulled out a sheet from halfway down and placed it on top. He pulled a silver pen from the inside pocket of his jacket. He held the pen p
oised over the paper as he asked George, ‘On a scale of one to five, where one is the lowest and five is the highest, how would you evaluate the job that you did?’
‘Four,’ George said. Arthur raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
‘On a scale of one to five, where one is the lowest and five is the highest, how competently would you say you followed procedures as laid down in section four sub-section seventeen of the Greeters code of conduct?’
‘Four.’
‘Four?’ Arthur not only lifted his head, but threw the pen onto the table. ‘Four?’ he repeated. ‘How can you possibly give yourself a four? Where in the manual does it say you take a client to see someone who has received their organs?’
I tried to object to use of the word ‘client’ but I didn’t get the chance to speak.
‘Not only do you take the client to see their organ recipient, you allow the client to speak to said organ recipient.’ Arthur pushed the forefinger of his right hand against the thumb of his left as if to mark off the number one. ‘Then,’ he said moving onto the next finger, ‘there was all that with her kid.’
‘Naomi could see her,’ George protested.
‘But did you have to let her pass messages on to her grandmother?’ Arthur waved his arm out to the side.
‘Alright,’ George conceded, ‘maybe I shouldn’t have allowed it, but it helped Ellen’s mum to come to terms with Ellen’s death.’
Arthur’s cheeks hollowed as he pursed his lips. ‘We have means of dealing with that.’
‘I didn’t think they would work,’ George said.
‘You never even tried.’ Arthur moved to the middle finger of his left hand. ‘Then there was that nonsense today.’ Arthur’s voice got louder and Matthew stirred on the sofa. I made a shushing noise. ‘Where,’ Arthur asked barely able to conceal his anger, ‘does it say you allow the client to be seen by someone other than those the committee has chosen should see them?’
‘Committee?’ I finally found my voice. ‘What committee?’
George either did not hear me or chose to ignore me. He stood face to face with Arthur.
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