Posted on Sunday, 5 November 2000, at 10 : 25 p.m.

I believe I promised (or was that threatened?) the story of Will's passing from 'Parallels'. Now that I have warned you...

The house was still. The clock at the bedside read two twenty-three.

Throwing the coverlet back, Will swung his legs to the floor and wriggled his feet into the slippers that lay there. His dressing gown lay across the foot of the bed and he carefully slipped it on before padding across the room to open the door, peering out into the darkened hallway.

Not a sound broke the silence but the steady tick-ticking of the clock near the top of the huge staircase. His eyes were inexorably drawn to the stairs, a twinge of painful memory brushing against his weakening resistance.

The darkness of the hall was no impediment as Will made his way down its length toward the gallery. Slow, measured steps carried him past various doorways, pausing before each as more memories intruded upon his thoughts.

Elizabeth and William, as he was called then.... the first time he'd seen them together. The snow was falling gently around them, the little boy covered head to toe in the white stuff. His mother's face was red from the cold, or was that embarrassment?

Never had he seen anything so beautiful in his life! This woman who had rent his heart years before, when he had tasted perfect happiness and then had it torn from him. To see her again was an exquisite torture, but one that he had thought himself prepared for, knowing she would be there. Was it the pain of past memories or the delight in a renewed opportunity that stung him hardest?

He heard not a word she had said and, when she turned away, heading back to the house with the little boy in tow, for the first time he realized that his heart had returned... whole, intact.... tied irrevocably to this woman.

Will sighed and moved on.

Anna.... fresh scrubbed and in a pretty pink sundress, her hair tidily arranged in a French braid. Not fifteen minutes later her mother leading her by the hand back into the house and marching her upstairs to the bath, a trail of mud leading back to the scene of the crime. "Why did I ever think that a dress would deter you from following your brother down to the pond to catch frogs?" lamented Elizabeth in a voice that echoed in the open foyer.

Even after all those years he could still hear her voice in the corridor as she had scolded their daughter all the way to the bath.

Will continued down the hallway, no change in his pace. The memories didn't surprise him. He had been reliving them for the last few months, since he first awoke in the middle of the night and began making these forays to the gallery. At first they were quite painful to accept but, as time wore on, he preferred to recall these pleasant and amusing snippets of his life to spending a lonely night staring at the ceiling of his bedroom, aching for the part of him that was no longer there.

Each night brought new memories, he had yet to recall the same one twice. Will had even begun to look forward to these clandestine excursions every night for they at least afforded him the opportunity to be with his Liz once more, even if it was only in his mind.

He glanced to either side of the hall, the two bedroom doors ajar. It had been several years since either had been occupied but he could still see his daughters as they had giggled and made faces at each other across the width of the corridor.

"Back to bed, girls." The hint of amusement around Elizabeth's mouth belied the stern tone she was trying to effect. Two sets of wide brown eyes gazed apologetically back at their mother, more sorry for being caught than for being out of bed at this hour of the night.

"Spoilsport," Will grumbled behind her.

"Shhh!" Elizabeth countered, grimly eyeing the collection of stuffed bears and assorted animals that littered the hallway, mute testimony to the battle recently waged. "Haven't you encouraged enough rebellion for one night?"

Leaning against one of the doorframes, Will stared into the inky blackness of the vacant room, seeing in his mind's eye the tiny form tucked under the blankets raise herself up on one elbow and whisper a soft

'Daddy?'

He sighed and turned in the direction of the gallery once more. After countless nights repeating this ritual, he knew exactly how many steps would be taken before he reached his destination.

As he passed the windows that looked out onto the front lawn, the moonlight streaming through the glass created illusions before Will's eyes.

She was laughing at him. Eyes sparkling, she beckoned him forward with one slim arm slightly raised. Before he had taken two steps toward her, Elizabeth giggled and spun herself in a circle, her skirt swirling out and around her shapely legs

He stopped and blinked, shaking his head to dispel the lingering image, then walked the final stretch of corridor to sink down into a chair along the wall.

On the opposite wall was a portrait. Unlike the many others than hung in the gallery, this one was not a commissioned painting but a photograph. No artist, no matter the skill, could capture Will's Elizabeth. This photo had been a tedious project. In the end it had been a shot captured at an unguarded moment, when she had caught sight of her husband playing ball with their sons behind the photographer, that had been the best.

Will's gaze rose to meet those of the portrait. The laughter in Elizabeth's eyes, the sparkle... there was life in every aspect of her. A tiny smile hinted at the corners of her mouth. An almost inaudible sigh escaped him as his head came to rest against the back of the chair. He stared at the portrait and allowed his mind to take him where it may.

"Will! Oh, Will, it's lovely! How did you know?" Elizabeth's eyes lit up in delight and she flung her arms about his neck, kissing him impulsively. "You are the most thoughtful, the best of husbands!"

"You have a daughter."

The baby's cry was music to his ears. He took the tiny bundle from the doctor and held her close for Elizabeth to see. One tiny fist was waving about as Will laid a gentle kiss on the top of her head.

"She's beautiful," Elizabeth whispered.

"She's perfect," Will smiled at his wife. "How could she be anything but?"

A chorus of voices joined together in assorted keys to wish their father a happy birthday. Will's ear registered the assault but his heart translated the noise into a beautiful rendition of the traditional song. His eyes met Elizabeth's over the heads of their children as they gathered around, pressing forward to bestow hugs and kisses on him. There was nothing, he knew, that could rival the contentment and joy that filled him when surrounded by his family.

Kneeling down, he allowed his children to push him over while they climbed on top of him, giggling and squirming.....

The chime of the clock roused Will from a light sleep. Drowsily, his eyes sought the display on the face of the timepiece at the end of the hall. The huge, ugly gilt exterior was a sharp contrast to the delicate musical notes that daily sounded out the quarter hours.

"No, no Will," Elizabeth frowned. "You can't send it back."

"I'm not hanging this.. this.. monstrosity in our home!" Will shook his head as he contemplated the gall of his aunt in sending a 'gift' of this nature.

His wife giggled. "I'll bet it cost her a fortune!"

Will was not amused. "It's ugly. Elizabeth, it's an insult. You know she meant it as one."

"Perhaps she did, but Will, just listen." She drew the minute hand forward to trigger the mechanism for the chime. A delicate tinkling of bells issued from the unlikely source. Elizabeth grinned. "It sounds so pretty."

"Maybe we can hang it in the closet," Will grumbled.

"Clocks in the closet? Will, whoever heard of anything so absurd!" Elizabeth nodded her head decisively. "There's a little alcove in the gallery that will be just perfect for this."

"Just perfect, Elizabeth," Will whispered. "I'm probably sitting in the only place where the bloody thing can be seen." He closed his eyes again and shifted uncomfortably in the chair. A chill descended and he pulled his dressing gown closer around his body. The steady tick-tick of the clock now caught his attention. Will opened his eyes to stare at the portrait. Focussing on the image before him, he allowed the rhythmic sound of the clock to lure his memories of the lady to once again take shape before him.

"I didn't think you were coming."

"Have I disappointed you yet?"

"Never." A pause. "How much longer?"

"Not long. I promise."

" I miss you."

"I know. You have no idea how much I miss you."

Eyes still closed, Will's hand reached out to empty air......

"Don't make me wait any longer. Please... I can't bear it."

"Patience... all will be as it should."

The clock chimed the beginning of a new hour.

"May I?"

A delicate hand was placed in his own and the music drew the couple to the floor for the dance. Sweeping a dramatic entry onto the floor, Will pulled her close, whispering in her ear. The smile that slowly spread across her face was not one of amusement but of satisfaction. She encouraged him to lead her through the maze of couples and away from the scrutiny of the spectators, those looking for evidence of discord in any form.

Nothing could possibly give the impression of disharmony on this night of all nights. The bond was too strong, the need almost visible.

A murmur from the crowd reached the ears of the couple. An unmistakable voice called out across the room.

"You're needed"

"It's time he learned to do things without me."

"Just go see what he wants. It will only take a minute."

"Not this time. We all have to let go eventually. Some just require a shove."

Their dancing carried them further away and the crowd began to thin. The voice grew quieter, less urgent. A flicker of something, not quite regret, flashed in his eyes and was gone. His partner saw it but made no comment, knowing the decision had been made.

Wrapping his arms about her, he sighed as her body's warmth seeped into his and the music led them even further from the others.

Ben sat back on his heels, his head hanging and his eyes closed. One hand was still wrapped around his father's wrist.

"This is how you wanted it to be, isn't it?" His voice was a low whisper. Bringing his head up, he opened his eyes once again and stared at the still face. "I knew you wouldn't stay with us for long, not after Mum was gone. I didn't think it would be so quick, though." Ben let out a long, broken sigh. "Just what did you find here every night?" He glanced up at the portrait smiling down on them. "Do you know much of him died with you?"

Rising to his feet, Ben tucked the blanket around Will's form one last time. His eyes closed in an expression of pain, then he turned away, walking down the long, quiet hallway to face his future.

The End.