No Going Back

by ALEX GUTTERIDGE

  “I was trying to get your attention. You’d told me to be careful so I wanted to stay outside the room.”

  “What was so urgent that it couldn’t wait?”

  He shrugged, looked a little upset.

  “I wanted to talk about your mother. You know she’s seeing that man.”

  “If you mean the vicar, they’re just friends.”

  “Huh!” he said with a whoosh which nearly blew all my random bits of paper off my bedside table. “I don’t think so.”

  “You’re jealous!”

  His foot toyed with the fringe on the edge of the rug.

  “Dad, Mum is entitled to go out with people. You’ve been dead for ten years. You can’t expect her to stay single for ever.”

  He didn’t reply.

  “Don’t you want her to be happy too?”

  He looked up then. “Of course I do. It’s just… difficult, seeing her with someone else.”

  “She’s hardly been out with anyone since you died. He seems like a nice, kind man.”

  He nodded. “You’re right. But it still hurts.”

  “You do realise that Gran’s going to talk to the Reverend Tim about you? And then he’ll come around and ring bells and wave incense or whatever it is they do. Anyway basically he’ll get rid of you, send you back to where you came from.”

  He didn’t look that concerned. “Maybe that would be for the best. Maybe it’s too upsetting for everyone, me being here.”

  “You don’t mean that,” I replied. “I think you need to go away from here for a while, just until things settle down.”

  “Like where?”

  “I don’t know, take a holiday or something, go back to The Other Side, just temporarily.”

  “I told you, it’s not as easy as that.”

  “Well we’ve got to do something. What about Cousin Penny? Could you stay with her for a while? Maybe she’s got a spare bedroom you could hole up in.”

  “I’d rather stay here with you.”

  “And I’d rather have you here,” I said.

  “Let’s wait,” he said. “All of this will probably blow over and your gran will forget all about it.”

  I stared at him. If he thought that Gran would let this go he really was deluding himself. I knew that once Gran got her teeth into something there was no way she was going to let it drop.

  I was just coming out of my bedroom the next morning when I heard her on the phone. From the landing window I could see Mum hanging out washing in the garden.

  “We need some help,” she said.

  I paused, crouching by the banisters to hear her voice more clearly. “We have an unwanted presence in the house and it needs to be dealt with. Liz said that you can arrange that sort of thing.”

  She was obviously talking to the vicar but from the tone of her voice you’d have thought that she was arranging an assassination – which in a way she was.

  “Oh yes,” Gran continued. “I know exactly who it is.”

  There was a pause as the person at the other end spoke.

  “All right,” Gran said, at last. “I’ll wait to hear from you with a time but can you try to make it sooner rather than later? And Tim,” she added, “I’d rather Liz didn’t know about this for now. Can we just keep it between ourselves? I don’t want her to be upset.”

  Another pause as the vicar spoke.

  “Oh, Laura knows,” Gran said. “I suspect that Laura’s the reason he’s come back. She’s always had this rather gilded view of her father. That’s partly Liz’s fault. I suspect that the entity we are talking about…”

  I shook my head. Even after all these years she still could barely bring herself to call Dad by his name.

  “… I suspect he’s getting a bit twitchy that Laura might find out the truth because, I can tell you, Tim, that man was not the honourable, devoted father and husband that she thinks he was.”

  I got pins and needles in my foot, moved a smidgeon, but the floorboard beneath me still creaked. I saw Gran’s shadow on the wall shift as she looked upwards.

  “I’ve got to go,” she whispered. “I’ll wait to hear from you. Thank goodness you are here, Tim. I feel so much better for talking to you. Bye.”

  She put the phone down and I listened to her walk back to the kitchen. Was I imagining it or was she not leaning on her stick quite so much? Was there almost a spring in her step?

  I stayed where I was, trying to absorb what I had heard. All those weeks of Gran and I growing closer seemed to have been wiped away with a few words: ‘that man was not the honourable, devoted father that she thinks he was’.

  How dare she say that! How dare she make arrangements to get rid of my dad without even consulting me! One thing was for sure. While there was breath in my body I was not going to let it happen.

  DESPERATION

  I had no idea how much time I had. The vicar could have been around the following day or not for a couple of weeks. I concocted my plan that morning and I didn’t tell anyone, especially not Dad. Every day at around lunchtime he took himself off for a drift around the village so I was pretty sure as Mum, Gran and I sat in the garden, eating sandwiches, that he wasn’t around.

  “Mum,” I asked, “can I go to London tomorrow? Abi has texted me. It’s her birthday and some of my friends are getting together.”

  “It’s a bit short notice,” Mum said.

  “Oh, let her go,” Gran said. “It’ll do her good to get away from here and catch up with her old friends.”

  Did Gran want me out of the way tomorrow or was I being paranoid? Had the vicar phoned back and arranged to exterminate Dad that soon? Was I acting just in the nick of time?

  “It’ll just be for the day,” I said, trying to quell the sudden wobble in my voice, “although Abi said I could stay the night if I wanted to.”

  I’m not a good liar. I was sure Mum would see through me but she didn’t. Maybe it was because Gran was making such a big thing of letting me go. At least I could be grateful to her for that.

  The following morning I got up early and packed a small rucksack.

  “Where are you going?” Dad asked, wandering into my bedroom.

  “To London. You shouldn’t be in the house. It’s safer in the barn.”

  “It’s lonely out there. What are you going to London for?”

  “To meet up with some friends.”

  I felt in the back pocket of my jeans for the small piece of paper that was vital to my plan, although to be honest I didn’t really need it. I had memorised Penny’s old address. I just hoped that if I went to her previous house I could track her down.

  “Is Liberty going with you?”

  “No.”

  “What about that boy?”

  “If you mean Sam, you know that I haven’t seen him since I handed the kitten back.’ That wasn’t strictly true. I had seen him in the distance, walking down the road with Liberty welded to his side. It had choked me up; still did. They looked like an item and even though that bit of information would have made Dad happy, I couldn’t bring myself to tell him. ‘Sam even made an excuse to get out of doing the gardening last week. I don’t suppose he’ll even want to share the same air as me on the school bus when term starts, let alone spend a whole day with me in London.”

  “I didn’t mean to spoil things, Laura. I just didn’t think that the kitten was a good idea. Maybe I was wrong.”

  “It’s a bit late to say that now,” I gasped.

  “So you’re going on your own?” he persevered.

  “Yes. Anything wrong with that?”

  “Oh my goodness,” he shrieked, “hundreds, no, thousands of things. What is your mother thinking of?”

  “Dad, I’m quite capable of getting on a train and navigating the Tube by myself.”

  I paused to let all the ramifications of that sink in. I could see the worry etched across his face. My plan was working perfectly. I’d dangled the fishing line in front of him, now to reel it in.

  “Why don�
�t you come with me, if you’re really worried?”

  He stared at me. For a second I thought he wasn’t going to take the bait.

  “You wouldn’t mind?”

  I knew that I couldn’t say no. He wasn’t stupid and would definitely suspect something was up if I did that.

  “Well, yes I would.” I paused. “But if you are going to come I’d rather it was all upfront, instead of spotting you lurking in the distance, like some inept spy. Actually, considering you’re a ghost you’re not that good at following me without being unobserved.”

  He chewed at his bottom lip. “To be fair you are getting better at spotting when I’m around.”

  He mulled over my suggestion.

  “I’m being overprotective, aren’t I?” he said, at last. “It’s probably better if I stay here.”

  I tried not to look dismayed, tried my best to look relieved, happy even, but inside I was furious.

  All this time I’d been trying to get that message over and now, just when I didn’t want him to, he’d chosen to take it on board. Parents can be so irritating sometimes.

  “You don’t want me looking over your shoulder all the time. I can see that now. You go off and have a nice day with your friends without me hanging around.”

  He meant it. He really meant it! What on earth was I going to do now?

  “Laura!” Mum called up the stairs. “Are you ready? You’re going to miss your train.”

  “Yes, coming,” I shouted.

  I didn’t know what to do. He HAD to come with me. I had to get him away from there.

  I stood looking around my room, trying to think of something, anything.

  “Laura!” Mum flung open the door now. “What are you doing in here? You know how I hate rushing. You’re going to be running along the platform at this rate.”

  “I can always get the next train,” I said. “Do you think I need my umbrella?”

  “No, you can’t,” she said. “You’re booked on a specific train and you have to get that one unless you want to pay a lot more. Now come on. You don’t need your umbrella.”

  Out of the corner of my eye I could see Dad beginning to get a bit twitchy.

  “I can’t find my phone,” I lied. “I can’t go without my phone. I won’t be able to get in touch with you to let you know I’ve arrived safely.”

  “Well where did you last have it?” she huffed, pulling back my duvet and scanning the room. “It’s not like you to lose things.”

  “It must be around somewhere,” I said.

  Mum checked her watch. “You’ll have to take mine.”

  “It’s okay. I’ll go without it. I can ring you from Abi’s phone.”

  “No, Laura,” Dad hissed in my ear. “Take your mother’s phone. What if you get separated from Abi? What if you get lost or mugged? You need to have a phone.”

  I waved him away and grabbed the rucksack.

  “It’ll be fine,” I whispered as I followed Mum down the stairs. “To be perfectly honest you’re more likely to get mugged for your phone in London these days. It’s probably safer without one.”

  “Oh my God!” He was rippling with anxiety now.

  “It’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

  “No,” he said, “I’ve changed my mind. I’d better come with you. I shall be a nervous wreck if I stay here imagining what’s happening to you.”

  RESULT!

  I wanted to skip out to the car but of course I didn’t. I assumed my very best put-upon expression and just said one word. “Whatever!”

  The train was pretty full so Dad had to sit a little way away from me. I was quite glad. I didn’t want to have to take part in a surreptitious conversation.

  “So, where’s your friend Abi?” Dad asked as we went through the barrier at St Pancras station. “I thought she was meeting you here.”

  “Oh, it wasn’t definite. She said that if she couldn’t make it to meet up at her house.”

  “Oh, Laura,” Dad gasped. “I knew something would go wrong. It’s such a good thing that I came with you, isn’t it?”

  I just looked at him and smiled. Little do you know, I thought, how much of a good thing it is.

  I’d already studied the Tube map so I knew just where I was going. We pushed our way through the throng of people and hopped on the Underground. It was really hot down there and I was glad to get out into the fresh air. I was beginning to panic a bit. What if I couldn’t track down Penny? What if Dad wouldn’t agree to stay with her for a while? I stood outside the station and studied my A–Z map while Dad looked up and down the street.

  “I miss this,” he said. “Derbyshire’s all right for a short time but this is where the action is.”

  “So you wouldn’t mind staying here then?” I asked, setting off in what I hoped was the right direction.

  “No, I’d love it,” Dad said. I turned into a long straight road with villa-type houses on either side.

  “This looks familiar,” Dad said. “Where did you say your friend Abi lived?”

  “All roads in London look similar,” I replied, walking a little quicker, hoping to get to No. 65 before he cottoned on to what I was doing. It had a number made of pieces of mosaic tile and a little porch with white painted spindles above a black and white tiled floor. Two stone pots of red geraniums stood next to the front door. It looked like a nice house. I walked up the path, took a deep breath and rang the bell.

  “Are you sure your friend Abi lives here?” Dad asked.

  He was still standing on the pavement, looking up at the house. Inside the house, I heard the jangle of keys and through the obscured glass in the top of the door I could see someone moving towards me.

  “Dad, I’ll explain in a minute.”

  “Explain what? Laura, what are you up to?”

  The door opened and a woman of about forty stood in front of me. She wore a purple flowery blouse and white jeans. Her hair was curly and mid-brown but with blond bits at the ends.

  “I’m sorry to disturb you,” I said. “But I’m looking for someone who used to live here.”

  She didn’t speak, just looked rather surprised, alarmed even. My heart was hammering away in my chest.

  “Her name’s Penny,” I hesitated. How stupid. I didn’t even know her surname. “I’m sorry, this was a really bad idea.”

  I felt the tears spring up behind my eyes. My chest was tight. I turned to go. Dad was blocking my exit as I floundered down the path, head down.

  “Laura!”

  I stopped and turned to look at the woman through bleary eyes.

  “It is Laura, isn’t it?”

  I nodded as she padded down the path in bare feet and took my arm.

  “I’m Penny,” she said. “You’d better come in and tell me what this is about.”

  “No! No! No!” Dad muttered in my ear.

  But it was too late. Penny was steering me through the front door. Behind me I was aware of Dad clutching his head in his hands and then him sprinting to get through the door before Penny shut it. Poor Dad! He looked horrified. I so wanted to tell him that I was doing this for his own good.

  SANCTUARY

  Penny gestured to a two-seater sofa in the kitchen. I sank onto the grey velvet and leaned back against brightly coloured felt cushions. Dad hovered in the doorway.

  “Would you like a drink?” she asked.

  I nodded.

  “Tea, coffee, something cold?”

  “Just water will be fine,” I whispered.

  She got two glasses from a cupboard and filled them to the brim, before sitting down next to me. I sipped at the water. I wasn’t thirsty. It was just something to do, to buy time. She had this calmness about her as she sat, quietly watching me with her cool grey eyes.

  “How did you know who I was?” I asked at last.

  She smiled slightly. “I knew exactly who you were the minute I opened the door. You look just like your father.”

  “Really?”

  I looked over at Dad who was
running his fingers through his hair. So far as I could see that was where our resemblance ended.

  “Really,” she replied, leaning back a little as if to study me even better. “Does your mother know that you’re here?”

  I wanted to just say yes, not to complicate things, but there was something about this woman that made me feel bad about lying. Besides, she was studying me so intently I wasn’t sure I’d be able to pull off a lie without giving myself away.

  “She knows that I’m in London.”

  “I see.”

  She got up, opened a packet of biscuits and arranged them on a small yellow vintage plate splattered with little green clover leaves. Then she came back and sat down beside me again. I took a biscuit. It was a ginger nut and cracked as I bit into it. The sound seemed to echo around the inside of my head.

  “So what can I do for you, Laura? Why did you want to find me?”

  I stared at the crumbs that had fallen into my lap. How on earth could I answer that?

  “I heard you’d moved to Derbyshire?” Penny said when I didn’t answer her question.

  “Yes. Gran had a fall and Mum lost her job and…” I shrugged, “… she decided that she needed a change.”

  “And is it okay, living in Derbyshire? Are you happy?”

  “I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to leave the grave. But I knew that you’d look after it. You will look after it, won’t you? I mean, we’ve only been gone for a few weeks but I like it to have fresh flowers.”

  I looked out of her window. There were roses growing up a trellis against the wall but they weren’t the same colour as the roses she used to put on Dad’s grave.

  “I liked those flowers you used to put on it because they were so different to mine. You didn’t mind me throwing them away when they died, did you?”

  Dad had moved to the side of the sofa. He was pulling at my shoulder. I lifted my hand in an effort to stop him.

  “I like things to be tidy, you see. Probably too tidy. It makes me feel safe.”

  I looked around her kitchen which was cluttered in an arty sort of way.

  “But this is nice, cosy. I wanted to get in touch with you to ask you things about Dad, to ask you to tend the grave, but Mum said you’d moved and she’d lost your address. Why did she say that?”