Mum was gone in a flash, and as Shelly hovered, horrified, on the borderline of her dream, she knew what the next ten minutes held. She tried, and tried, to shout a warning – to change the future – but her words were never voiced. Through the front window, she could see the back of her mum’s red wool coat as she walked away, heading for the bus stop.

Shelly could see her so clearly and, though sensing it was a dream, she was filled with horror. Could she stop it, change it, after all, what were dreams for? Surely, they were warnings. ‘Don’t go, Mum!’ she tried to shout, but her mouth was glued shut and the words were nothing but a muffled mumble. She tried again and again, her mother getting smaller in the distance, the red coat, the bus stop . . . she mustn’t reach the bus stop!

Then, as if Shelly had broken through into another dimension, she found her voice and yelled, ‘Don’t go, Mum! Don’t go! Don’t go! Mum, please!’ She tried to run after her, but her father held her back, she could feel his hands on her shoulders and hear his voice, but still she shouted, ‘Mum, don’t go!’

Dad cried urgently, ‘’Ere, don’t, Shelly. It’s not real, love. Wake up now. Wake up!’

A moment of confusion tangled time and place, like in one of those films played backwards, making no sense until it’s played forward once again. Her father was patting her shoulder. ‘Come on, love, you’re havin’ a nightmare.’

‘Oh, Dad, it was so real. I was there . . . you know?’ She sobbed as she surfaced from the heartbreaking drama, drained, and oh so sad. ‘Will it ever go away? It’s been such a long time now.’

‘Put yer dressing gown on and come down. Let’s have a brandy-cocoa and a bit of a chinwag.’

She looked at him, saw the pain in his eyes – he was still suffering too.

*

At the kitchen table, Shelly poured the cocoa and her dad slopped a large measure of brandy into each mug.

Gordon spoke first. ‘I know, love. It’s the same for me. I have . . . well . . . oh God. Why is it so difficult to talk?’

‘I don’t know. It just hurts too much, I guess.’

‘We’ve never really spoken about it, have we, Shelly love? I reckon we should have done, long ago.’

‘It won’t go away, Dad. I don’t know why I can’t just accept what happened and move on.’