A few days had passed of intense questioning from the police. They couldn’t figure it out. A girl goes missing with no sign of getting out or back in, who has no injuries whatsoever. It was quite the opposite, she was very healthy. All vital signs were perfect. They kept asking where she had been and she had kept giving them the same story. Even going into detail, of which I remembered as well.
The investigators just scratched their heads. “It’s like she just disappeared,” the police officer said looking perplexed.
They had questioned us multiple times accusing us at one point. Saying that we must have staged it, making money out of our daughter somehow. I was furious of the accusation of course, but it was shortlived as there was no evidence supporting it. They brought in a child psychologist who sat down with Erin. She believed that Erin might have been part of something traumatic that sent her into a much nicer fantasy world in order to protect herself from what had really happened. But she wasn’t harmed in any way. We had been to the hospital to have her checked out and nothing indicated any form of abuse. She was the happy, positive girl that she had always been.
After all the questioning and checkups had been done it calmed down quickly as if a storm had passed and I for one was thrilled to have it behind me. I knew my daughter. I believed in every word she said. She was healthy, happy and back in our lives. What more could I want? We hadn’t been back to our jobs yet. Money was scarce but we had each other and we wanted to spend every waking hour together for a while before we went on with our lives as normal again… If there was such a thing. I had no idea how I was ever going to let Erin out of my sight again. Just leaving her at pre-school terrified me. I was scared to blink at times. Peter and I had both been given the opportunity to see a psychologist and I was going to take them up on the offer. I had to learn to tackle my fear of loosing her, if I was ever going to live a half normal life again.
Erin had drawn and painted pretty much nonstop since she had come home from her adventure in the dreamscape, which is what she called it. Even when she had spoken to the psychologist and she had been asked to draw what she had seen, she had called it her dreamscape. Where the angels live. “For whatever reason, your daughter is well. This is a good thing. However. I would advice that we set up a meeting once a week to begin with and see how it goes,” Anne the psychologist said and looked away. She looked worried. “Her fantasy is taking over the real world. This could just be a temporary side effect of what really happened. However, we will have to keep an eye on it. If it escalates and gets worse we might need to take some action.” “Some action?” I repeated with a frown. “What do you mean?”
“Mrs Wallace-Walker, there are treatments that can help with mental illness. Some medicines are very good and could help Erin see the world in front of her rather than escaping to a place that isn’t real.”
I felt anger creeping up and got ready to speak out but it was Peter who spoke first.
“Our daughter does not have a mental illness. She has a fantastic mind that people like you belittle in order to make sense of your own reality. She will not need to see you or any other psychologist in the near future thank you,” he said with a very decisive tone which made me so unbelievably attracted to him that I had to contain myself. I looked at the man in my life. The man I couldn’t live without. He had grown. There was an edge to him now that I hadn’t seen before. It made me feel protected somehow. I was hoping that he hadn’t been too bruised from the past few months. We both had a lot to work on. This wasn’t over, emotionally, but we would get through it together. We had our girl back, our united heart and we would enjoy every second of it.
All our family and friends had been around to see Erin of course. She was smothered with hugs and kisses. She didn’t quite understand it. In her mind she had only been on a sort of vacation and had lots of fun. She didn’t understand what all the fuss was about but she liked the attention she was getting nonetheless. She got more confused as my mum was crying floods.
“Grandma?” Erin had said whilst putting a hand on her shoulder as she sat on our couch. “Why are you crying?”
My mum had looked at Erin with a sad smile. “Well I’m so unbelievably happy to see you,” She said and hugged her. “But I also miss your granddad terribly.” Erin thought for a while.
“Grandma,” she said, grabbing my mother’s attention again. “He told me to tell you that he’ll still be right here, always close to you. He said he’ll be in the morning light when the sun rises and in the plants he grew for you in the garden. He’ll be in a song on the radio and in a friendly smile from a stranger.”
I looked at my daughter with such pride and tears formed in my eyes. Not out of sadness but out of love. Love for my daughter and love for my dad. My mum looked at Erin with a hand on her heart. “Oh child…that was beautiful,” she said and hugged Erin again.
Dad’s funeral took place in a small church on the outskirts of Edinburgh. It was a part of Edinburgh where he had always enjoyed taking walks and going to the local pub. It was where my mum and dad got married. Peter and I had also been married there. It brought back loving memories. Our wedding had been quite small with only the closest of family and friends but it had been incredibly romantic. Erin had been one year old at the time and I had bought the cutest little peach dress for her. She had stained it almost straight away of course but I didn’t mind. I had worn a beautiful off shoulder dress with long sleeves made of lace. The silky touch of fabric had fallen perfectly over my curvy frame. I had felt like a princess at the time and if I could have I would have worn that dress everyday since. I had worn my hair down, having held a few bits of hair up in plats and added flowers. Peter had been unbelievably handsome wearing a suit that made him look like the new James Bond. It had been the loveliest day and I would never forget it.
The leaves had all started to turn different shades of yellow, red and brown now and the trees circled around the church like a beautiful frame. Behind it you could see one of Edinburghs seven surrounding hills. It was slightly cloudy with a few rays of sun peeking out from behind the clouds from time to time. There was a slight breeze but not as windy as Scotland could be on a typical early autumn day. My dad’s closest friends were there and a few people he had worked with over the years. His two younger sisters were there with their husbands. I had greeted them all outside the church before walking up the church isle with Peter and Erin right behind me.
I sat down next to Jason, Emma and my mum. My mum’s eyes looked tired and sad. I had agreed to hold a speech during the funeral. My mum didn’t think she could keep it together and both Jason and Emma were happy to have me do it. “Welcome,” the priest said with a kind and sympathetic voice. “We are going to start today’s mass by singing hymn one-hundred-and-thirty.” There was a rustling as everyone opened up their hymn books. The organist started playing and we sang. I sang too, but with a lump in my throat. I wanted to keep it together for the speech but I was already falling apart.
“Let us commend William Fredrik Walker to the mercy of God,” the priest said and then he lowered his head. “Let us pray.”
We all started reciting a well known prayer…
Our Father, Who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name, Thy kingdom come,
Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen.
The priest looked at me and smiled kindly. “Alexandra would like to say a few words now,” he said and gestured for me to come up to the lectern wooden stand that was situated at the front of the church in the middle where I could see everyone. I got up and walked slowly to the stand. I looked out at all the people wearing black. Some were in tears and others had sympathetic looks. A few younger kids were there. They didn’t seem too bothered, they looked like they were itching to go out and play. Their parents slightly embarrassed by their behaviour and trying to control what shouldn’t be controlled. The kids knew how to live, how to be happy. Maybe we should have followed their example, I thought as I felt a knot in my stomach. Don’t cry…don’t cry, I told myself before taking a deep breath, getting ready to give my speech.
“Thank you all for coming today,” I started. “You all knew my dad. You knew that he was a good man, a good person and a good spirit. He had such empathy. He always gave everyone the benefit of the doubt, never judging anyone too quickly. ‘Everyone has their story’, he used to say. He made me a better person for it. I hear him in my head if I ever start getting judgmental. He keeps me in line, despite the fact that he is not here physically any longer,” I said as a few people giggled a little and I joined in. That spurred on my tears. I couldn’t stop them, but I continued talking despite my face getting wet with emotion.
“He was the best dad, the best husband to my mum, the best granddad to my daughter Erin,” I said as I looked to my family and they quietly nodded their heads in agreement.
“He saved me,” I said as everyone sat in silence. I started to cry more. “He saved my girl. I can’t explain to you how, but he did.”
A few people looked a little confused, I suppose they probably thought I’d lost it but gave me sympathy votes and let it lye.
“Thank you dad,” I said as I looked up as if to heaven. “Thank you… I’d like to finish off this speech with a few words my darling daughter said to my mother the other day. My dad, your husband, your granddad, your brother, your father in law… and your friend,” I said as I looked to my mum, Erin, my aunties, Peter and the other people in the church.
“He may not be here physically…but he’ll be in the morning light when the sun rises…and in the plants he grew for my mother in the garden. He’ll be in a song on the radio…and in a friendly smile from a stranger. He lives on in our thoughts and in our hearts… .”
Peter came up and put his arm around me, helping me back to the church bench. I was crying heavily now. My mum handed me a tissue. I looked inside her bag and saw that she had stocked up. It was well needed.
The priest stood up. “And now Emma will sing for you,” he said still smiling warmly.
Emma looked at me, she had been quite nervous about singing. I looked at her wide eyes and smiled through my tears.
“You’ll be great, just imagine you’re singing to dad,” I said and hugged her. She got up and walked up to the stand. The organist had sat down by the piano now. She started the intro and Emma began singing. It was ‘Angel’ by ‘Sarah McLachlan’. You could tell that she was a little nervous but it was beautiful. I felt so proud of her and I knew that dad was watching. I just knew it, and I knew he was smiling with pride.
The priest went on to say some more prayers after that and another hymn before it was time to carry out the coffin. The sun had come out as we walked to the place where the coffin was to be lowered into the ground. I had my arm around mum, knowing how hard it was for her, how hard it was for all of us. The priest spoke a few last words.
“We therefore commit his body to the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust; in the sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life.”
We stood there for some time after that. Little by little friends and family started to leave for the reception we were having at a nearby venue. “Mum, we have to go now, they’ll be waiting for us at the reception,” I said but got no answer. “It’s not him there anymore. His soul is in a better place now and if he is here you know for sure he’ll be hanging around at the reception with his friends and family,” I said winking at her.
She looked up at me with glazed-over eyes. “You’re right dear… He would definitely be there. Let’s go,” she said.
We started walking away but she made one last turn and said aloud; “I love you William.”
We got to the reception. Erin was outside looking at something and Peter was just by the front door keeping an eye on her and making sure the guests knew where to hang their coats. I hugged him and felt utterly grateful for having him in my life. I would have to be there for my mum now. My dad had been the love of her life and now she was alone in a big house. I wasn’t sure how she was going to manage.
I let go of Peter and walked over to Erin.
“Hey sweetie, what are you doing?” I asked.
“Just talking to the fairy,” she answered.
“The what?” I asked, looking around.
“The fairy,” she said pointing. I looked at where she was pointing and saw a butterfly. My eyes focused on the gorgeous purple butterfly when I gasped. I was stunned and had to blink a few times. Was that a human body with wings? It flew away quick as a whip and left me startled. This was the real world. There were no magical dream creatures here…or were there?