opportunity to say goodbye to him, although I have to warn you that you might find seeing the extent of his injuries rather disturbing.”
Ella shook her head. “He’s gone. What you have is just a body now. Could I sit in the waiting room for a while?” she asked, looking up at the doctor. “I don’t think I can go home quite yet: I need some time for things to sink in, and to prepare myself for going home to an empty flat.”
“Of course.”
She walked numbly back into the waiting room and sat on one of the red plastic seats. After a few minutes, she went back to the receptionist and asked quietly, “Do Luke Peterson’s parents know that he died?”
“No, dear,” replied the receptionist. “They said they were going to drive here straight away, and it’s hospital policy not to give someone news like that while they’re driving. We’ll have to wait until they arrive.”
“I’ll tell them,” she offered.
“Are you sure you want to do that?” the receptionist asked, worried. “We would normally get a doctor to speak to them, as we did with you.”
Ella shook her head slowly. “It would be…kinder coming from me.”
“Well, if you’re sure. But let me know if you change your mind before they arrive, dear. The doctors are used to giving bad news, and I’m concerned that you’ll find it too upsetting.”
“Probably,” said Ella giving a weak shrug, “but I owe it to Luke.” She turned and trudged back to her seat to await Luke’s parents’ arrival.
It was almost half past nine by the time Ella finally left the hospital. She’d given Luke’s parents the bad news and waited with them until the doctor came back to talk to them and to offer them the opportunity to say goodbye, as he had to Ella. His parents, June and Bernard, offered to give her a lift home, but she said she’d rather walk the three miles back, to give her time to think and to try to clear her head a little.
By the time she got to the edge of the estate, it was almost half past ten, and her heart felt like a heavy lump of wax inside her chest. She turned off the road and made her way along the path through the woods, which was the short-cut home. Normally she wouldn’t go this way when she was alone - in case of being attacked – but in her current frame of mind she really didn’t care.
A little way along the path, a shiver suddenly ran up her spine and she shuddered. To her right, about 20 feet from the path, was the clearing that Luke had told her about – where he had seen her dancing before they’d even met.
Drawn to it, Ella picked her way through the undergrowth to the edge of the clearing. Taking off her shoes, she placed them neatly together and left them as she made her way to the centre of the clearing. There, overtaken by a feeling of utter emptiness, she dropped to her knees on the soft grass.
As she sat there, staring into the trees, she felt as though she was being watched. It was an odd sort of feeling – not creepy, but warm, like the feeling she’d had after sharing her first kiss with Luke. Suddenly Ella knew what she had to do.
She stretched her hands up high above her head, and began swaying from side to side; slowly, then gaining intensity as she performed her dance for Luke. She knew he was watching as she glided across the clearing; both her dress and her hair were flowing with the rhythm of the dance. As she twirled around and around, her skirt twisted about her legs before untangling itself once more as she headed in the opposite direction, strands of hair obscuring her face as she tossed her head first one way then the other.
She danced her heart out for more than five minutes before finally dropping down to her knees on the ground, putting her hands up to her eyes and burying her face in the soft grass, sobbing so violently that her whole body shook. As the tears streamed down her hands and dripped onto the grass, she felt her ‘watcher’ coming closer and closer behind her until finally she had to turn – she had to look.
There was no-one there. She felt no presence, just a vast broken emptiness inside her. But she knew that somehow, somewhere, sometime, Luke had seen her dance.
7th May
Dawn.
As the sun rises over the hillside,
A red kite soars above the beach.
While it circles in search of breakfast,
The waves wash rhythmically up and down the sand.
On the horizon, a bank of cloud builds
And rolls its way ominously towards the land
Bringing with it a strengthening wind
That taunts the waves to grow bigger and angrier,
Breaking forcefully against the rocks at the end of the beach.
On the sand, the foaming water advances and recedes,
Making a sound like the breath of a huge creature;
In and out… in and out.
Along the beach, the figure of a woman appears,
Her long, grey hair writhing in the wind
Like underwater seaweed washed by the tide.
She carries a large shoulder bag
And her shoes are in her hand.
The woman makes her way to the rocks
And picks her way forward to the water’s edge,
Where she stops and stares at the crashing waves.
Closing her eyes, she hugs her arms across her chest,
Then lifts her chin to take long, deep breaths of the salty sea air.
For several minutes, she just stands there, alone.
Then a second figure appears behind her – a man.
She senses his approach, tilting her head to one side,
But she does not open her eyes.
The man crosses the rocks and stops right behind her.
He wraps his arms sensuously around her waist,
Taking hold of both of her hands.
He nuzzles his face gently into her neck,
And as he draws her closer,
A soft sigh escapes her lips.
Neither of them speaks – they just exist together,
That one brief moment like a promise of eternity.
The wind dies down
And the sun breaks through the clouds.
The woman opens her eyes and looks for her love;
But he is gone.
Angry and confused, she lets out an anguished cry
And drops to her knees, her head in her hands.
After taking a moment to compose herself,
She reaches for her bag and takes something out – a wooden box.
Opening the top, she shudders briefly, then shakes his ashes into the sea
Before trudging back over the rocks and along the beach
Alone.
Muuuum?
Monday
“Muuuum? Can I get a dragon? Pleeease?
“I would name him Windsoarer and I could ride on his back. We could fly together to places like India and America and New York. He’d be 50 metres long with a pointy tail and would blow flames from his mouth if anyone made me cross. Everyone would stare at us and point at us and say, ‘Look at Timmy flying on his pet dragon! Isn’t that cool?’ We could be best friends and he could sleep outside in the garden and I could feed him on leftovers from all our neighbours’ dinners. Pleeease, Mum. Pleeeeease?”
“No, Timmy, you can’t get a dragon.”
Tuesday
“Muuuum? Can I get an elephant? Pleeease?
“I would name him Wilber and I could ride on his back. He could take me to school every day, carrying my schoolbag with his trunk. He’d be as tall as two grown-ups one on top of the other, with great big ears and long, curly tusks. All my friends would be sooo jealous and they’d say, ‘Hey look, Timmy Noakes has an elephant! Isn’t that cool?’ We could be best friends and he could sleep in the garden and he could act as an alarm clock to wake everyone up in the morning. Pleeease, Mum. Pleeeeease?”
“No, Timmy, you can’t get an elephant.”
Wednesday
“Muuuum? Can I get a tiger? Pleeease?
“I would name him Warrior and I could ride on his back. He’d be soft and cuddly and stripy like
Tigger from Winnie the Pooh – only he’d be much bigger, of course. He could go to all my friends’ birthday parties with me and they’d say, ‘Hey look, here’s Timmy Noakes with his cool pet tiger, Warrior.’ We could be best friends and he could sleep on the floor in my bedroom. He wouldn’t be any trouble. Pleeease, Mum. Pleeeeease?”
“No, Timmy, you can’t get a tiger.”
Thursday
“Muuuum? Can I get a wolf? Pleeease?
“I would name him Wolfie and I could take him for walks every day – you’re always saying I should get more exercise. He’d be strong and fast and have claws like daggers. I could walk him around the park and everyone would say ‘Look – there’s Timmy with his pet wolf. Isn’t that the coolest thing EVER?’ He could sleep on the end of my bed and I’d teach him not to howl at the moon and wake everyone up. Pleeease, Mum. Pleeeeease?”
“No, Timmy, you can’t get a wolf.”
Friday
“Muuuum? Can I get a pig? Pleeease?
“I would name him William and he’d be big and soft and cuddly and pink with a big flat snout and trotters for feet. Me and Dad could build a pig house in the back garden and he wouldn’t even make a mess in the house then. Pigs don’t make much noise, either, so he REALLY wouldn’t be any bother. Pleeease, Mum. Pleeeeease?”
“No, Timmy. No dragon, no elephant, no tiger, no wolf and no pig!”
Saturday
“Muuuum?”
“What is it this time, Timmy?”
“…Mum, can I get a kitten?”
“A kitten..? Yes, Timmy, you can get a kitten.”
“I would name him Wizard and… I can?”
“Yes, Timmy, you can.”
“Love you, Mum! Can we go right now? Pleeeease?”
I Wish
I wish I’d been to uni;
I used to be quite smart.
I wish I’d married Clooney –
Or Depp would be a start.
I wish I’d