Desperately Seeking Heaven

by Jill Steeples

  ‘Good,’ I said, sharply. ‘Then perhaps you’d like something to eat. Might make you feel a bit better.’ Then perhaps you’ll vacate my sofa and leave me alone to my weekend of domestic bliss, I kept to myself. ‘I’ll put the telly on, shall I? We can catch the news.’

  I zapped the remote at the telly, popped into the kitchen to fetch the mugs of tea and came back into the living room. That’s when I received the third and most spectacularly freaky shock of the day. So much so that I screamed, dropping the mugs to the floor, the contents spraying my cream leather sofa and gardenia walls. That woke him, once and for all.

  ‘Jesus Christ! What is it?’ He leapt up from the sofa, only just escaping the spouting hot liquid, and looked at me accusingly.

  ‘You. It’s you.’ I looked from him to the screen. ‘On the telly.’ I pointed at the box in the corner of the room for good measure just in case he had any doubt as to what I was freaking out about.

  We were standing a hair’s breath away from each other and I felt a surge of emotion rise within me, the air in the room suddenly electrified.

  ‘You!’ I repeated, my mouth gaping open like a befuddled goldfish.

  ‘Oh… yes,’ he said, having the grace to look a little sheepish, ‘perhaps I should have mentioned it.’

  I sank down onto the sofa in the place recently vacated by Jimmy, my head falling into my hands. Maybe there’d been some kind of mistake.

  ‘You’re… you’re…’ I gulped, no it couldn’t be. ‘You’re… dead?’ I faltered, looking up into his eyes, which seemed so much greyer and deeper than before.

  He shrugged, an apologetic smile forming on lips.

  ‘Yep, I am.’

  No mistake then.

  The whole country was in mourning following the tragic death of one of the country’s most well-known and well-loved celebrities in a freak accident. Grim-faced newsreaders repeated the news of the untimely demise of Mr Nice-Guy raking over the details of his last hours to find answers to the most unfathomable question. How exactly had Jimmy Mack died? Why had it happened? What private demons had driven Jimmy Mack to an early grave?

  In the surreal surroundings of my flat which had taken on an other-worldly quality with the presence of Jimmy lounging on my sofa, the television confirmed to me what I really didn’t want to believe. I was now wrapped up under the duvet, having nabbed it back from Jimmy considering my need to be much greater than his. Hardly daring to surface, only my eyes peeped over the top of the cover at the screen, as tears rolled down my cheeks for the dead man standing beside me.

  ‘Oh, don’t cry!’ he said, pacing up and down and flapping his arms ineffectively.

  ‘Don’t cry? Are you serious?’ I jumped up from the sofa and followed him step for step across the carpet. ‘You are… a hugely famous TV star and you’re standing in my living room and if that wasn’t mind-blowing enough… you’re also… you’re also dead! How do you expect me to react?’

  ‘Yeah, well if it’s any consolation, it’s pretty weird for me too. Do you think I wanted to end up here? I should be on my way to the Heavenly Hilton or wherever it is you’re supposed to go, escorted by a couple of blonde angels.’

  ‘Oh God!’ I cried, attempting to hurl the duvet across the room, but only managing to tangle it between my legs. ‘Let’s just get this clear,’ I added, slowing my breathing, ‘you are actually… a ghost, then?’

  ‘Well, it looks that way.’ He actually laughed. As if this were a laughing matter. He glanced down at his moleskin trousers, the pale blue chambray shirt; his sleeves rolled to his elbows, with not even the tiniest speck of blood in sight. He looked real enough to me, solid, living, eminently touchable.

  ‘Oh, no, no, no. I just can’t get my head around this at all.’

  I grabbed a handful of tissues from the box on the table and blew my nose noisily, looking at Jimmy accusingly. What the hell were we supposed to do now? Who should I call? The police, the doctor, an undertaker?

  I took a deep breath.

  ‘So, um, tell me. H-how did it happen then? The accident?’

  ‘Well, that’s the funny thing, I don’t really know. It all happened so quickly. I was on my way to my parents’ place in Mettlesham. It’s their ruby wedding anniversary this weekend and I was supposed to be taking them out to dinner tonight to celebrate.’ He screwed up his mouth, looking wistful. ‘I left the studio early afternoon and as it was such a beautiful day I decided to take the back roads instead of using the motorway.’ He paused as if reliving those last few moments. ‘I came round the bend and then, well, the steering just flew out of my hands. There was nothing I could do. The car flipped over and over. I didn’t think it was going to stop. And then my head hit the steering wheel or the dashboard, I can’t remember which. And that was it. Game over.’

  My gaze settled on the innocuous-looking graze adorning his forehead.

  ‘Did it hurt?’ I didn’t really want to know the answer, but couldn’t stop myself from asking.

  ‘Not really.’ He shrugged, pondering the question. ‘It was pretty instantaneous. There was a lot of noise. In my head. And lights, lots of flashing lights, but I didn’t really feel anything.’

  ‘No? Well, that’s something, I suppose.’ I sighed. ‘I am so sorry,’ I said, sinking back down onto the sofa, not knowing what else to say. What exactly do you say to a dead man? The thought of his grieving family, friends and whole legion of fans was uppermost in my mind.

  ‘Don’t worry about it. It’s hardly your fault. I appreciate this must be very strange for you, me being here, but please don’t cry over me. The whole dying thing… it’s not half as bad as you’d imagine.’

  I felt like sticking my fingers in my ears and la-la-ing into oblivion, but Jimmy was looking at me intently.

  ‘Well, you’re looking better than when I first came across you, I must admit.’ A bit peaky still, but his voice sounded much stronger and his presence seemingly so much more vivid.

  ‘Hey, I bet I’m the best-looking dead man you’ve ever met?’

  I couldn’t argue with that. He was the best-looking man I’d ever met. Living or otherwise.

  When he laughed his grey eyes twinkled mischievously, but I was finding it hard to find anything to laugh about. This whole episode was making me feel very uneasy.

  Jimmy went on, considering me thoughtfully.

  ‘It’s just that I think there may have been a few problems in the um, well I don’t know what you’d call it, but in the handing over process, I suppose.’

  ‘The handing over process?’ A feeling of trepidation filled every pore in my body. ‘Um, what do you mean?’ I asked, not certain I wanted to hear the answer.

  He scratched his head, managing to look both vulnerable and gorgeous in equal measure.

  ‘For some reason, I seem to have got stuck here with you. Obviously not alive, but neither fully gone over to the other side either. Betwixt and between, I suppose. I think that’s why you were sent my way. To help me.’

  ‘Ha, ha!’ I laughed, rather too heartily, only now it was Jimmy’s turn to look serious. ‘But how can I possibly help you?’ I said slowly, quietly, the deep apprehension growing in my chest.

  ‘To get to the other side, of course.’ He said it as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

  Chapter Two

  Why me? It was a question I asked myself a dozen times over in the hours following Jimmy’s arrival in my life.

  I liked to pride myself on my efficiency and capability. It’s what I’m good at. Throw a problem my way and I’ll sort it. Even if I don’t immediately know the answer, I’ll find someone who does. But whoever it was up there who thought my organisational skills stretched to finding homes for recently deceased people, however well-known and however gorgeous, was surely having a joke at my expense.

  I tried to broach this sensitive subject with Jimmy.

  ‘Were you not given any idea when you, um, passed… what you were supposed to do? Where you were mea
nt to go?’

  In a short space of time, he seemed to have made himself very comfy on my sofa and was brandishing the remote control with authority, flicking between channels to get the most up-to-date coverage on his demise.

  ‘Huh?’ He looked mildly irritated as he turned his gaze to look at me.

  ‘When you… you know…’ I didn’t like to say the word aloud, almost as if I didn’t mention it then it wouldn’t be such a permanent arrangement. Instead, I made a genteel fainting motion.

  ‘Pegged it, you mean? Nope. There was no welcoming committee or induction manual, not even a map pointing me in the direction of the upwards escalator or the downward one.’

  He didn’t look unduly concerned about the whole episode, he was much more interested in what was happening on the telly.

  ‘Would you look at him.’ He was sitting on the edge of his chair, leaning forward, jabbing his finger at the screen. ‘I don’t believe it!’

  It was Barney Roberts, the young and dynamic presenter of Win, win, win! the daily quiz show, his usual cheeky-chappie persona replaced with a sombre mask.

  ‘We are all deeply shocked and saddened by the untimely death of Jimmy Mack, a much loved and respected colleague here at Studio 99. Our thoughts and condolences go out to his family at this very sad time.’

  ‘Jeez! What a bloody hypocrite! How he’s got the nerve to stand there saying he’ll miss my friendship and my support as though we were best buddies, I just don’t know. The guy’s always hated me.’

  Secretly I was a bit of a fan of Barney Roberts. Much more of a fan than I’d ever been of Jimmy Mack, but now wasn’t the time to mention it.

  ‘Oh, don’t be like that,’ I said, crouching down to look Jimmy in the eye, picking up his hand. I didn’t want to appear rude, but I couldn’t help myself from staring at his features. They were all so familiar, all so real. My thumb stroked the length of his long fingers. How could he possibly be a ghost when he looked and felt so normal? A shiver tormented my spine as my gaze drifted between Jimmy and the TV screen.

  ‘He looks genuinely upset, everyone is, you can see that, surely?’ I did my best to reassure him. ‘It’s such a shock for us all.’

  ‘Don’t you believe a word of it. It’s all an act, he’s just milking the moment. He’ll be plotting to take over my daytime show already. You mark my words. As soon as he’s off air, he’ll be in discussions with the studio bosses.’

  ‘Do you think?’ I asked, not really believing him. Obviously he was distressed. Who wouldn’t be in the circumstances? I took a deep breath and tried to find the right words. ‘Well, try not to upset yourself over it. I mean, it’s not as though you can do anything about it now. Now that you’re, um, dead…’

  I flinched under the dagger-like stare from Jimmy, realising I’d clearly failed on the comforting words front. ‘And it’s not as though anyone could ever really take over your slot,’ I added, quickly. ‘There’ll only ever be one Jimmy Mack. I mean, who could ever replace you?’

  He sighed, stretching his arms up above his head, looking marginally appeased. I was beginning to realise that Jimmy had an ego to match his huge talent.

  ‘Hmm, I suppose, you’re right.’

  ‘Of course, I am.’ I patted his hand again, in a move that was becoming second nature to me. ‘More urgently though, we need to work out what we’re going to do about…, um, moving you on. Getting you to the right place. You won’t want to be hanging around here for any length of time.’

  Jimmy shrugged, unconcerned, looking as if it wouldn’t actually be the worst thing in the world.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘I’m sure it’s just a minor hiccup. When you think about it, the amount of through traffic being handled on a daily basis, this sort of thing is bound to happen occasionally. I’ll probably be moved on in a day or two.’

  A day or two? I was hoping for an hour at the most. Much more of this and my nerves would be frazzled to pieces.

  I sighed, taking the remote control from Jimmy’s hold and switched off the telly.

  ‘Hey, what did you do that for?’

  ‘Well, it can’t do you any good seeing all that stuff? It must be very upsetting knowing you’re leaving all your friends and family behind. Seeing them so distraught too. It isn’t helping anyone. Your parents…’

  Tears rushed to my eyes and I blinked them away. What had Jimmy done to be landed with me; a simpering blubbering mess, but I simply couldn’t bear it. To think of his poor mum and dad waiting expectantly at home for their son to arrive for what should have been a celebratory event, only to receive instead the most unwelcome visitor on their doorstep; a police officer bearing bad news; it was too much to contemplate.

  ‘Hey.’ He jumped up and wrapped his arms around me. I sighed, his embrace feeling strange but oddly comforting, the very tips of my fingers and toes tingling in expectation. I couldn’t remember the last time a man held me that way. He pulled back, holding my face captive in his hands, his look beseeching.

  ‘Don’t cry. Not for me.’ I took a deep breath, taking in his earthy masculine scent, his face dangerously close to mine. ‘I’m here, aren’t I?’ He pulled away, holding out his arms wide. ‘Not exactly in the peak of health admittedly, but I’m here.’

  When he laughed his deep grey eyes twinkled like stars in the night sky. It went a small way to making me feel better.

  ‘Yes, but, it’s so sad…’ Now, I couldn’t help the big gulping sobs that had been bubbling in my chest from erupting.

  ‘No, not really. It’s kind of hard to explain, but it all feels perfectly natural when it happens to you. As if it’s the right thing at the right time. Do you know what I mean? I’ve always believed that things happen for a reason and this just proves it! Sure, it’s tough for the people left behind but it’s something they’ll work through. And really, if you’ve ever held anyone close to your heart, you know that you’ll never completely leave them behind just because you die. I’ll get together again with them all one day, you can bet your life on it.’

  I screwed my face up in disbelief.

  ‘Sorry,’ he held up his hands, ‘not the best turn of phrase. But really, it’s no big deal.’

  No big deal? It was the biggest thing that had ever happened in my life. And I hadn’t even known Jimmy before he died. My whole body trembled with shock and terror.

  ‘But what about your mum and dad? Your friends? Was there anyone special?’ I asked, my mind rushing in each and every direction.

  He dropped his head to one side, giving me a quizzical look.

  ‘A girlfriend?’ I said tentatively. I was pretty certain he wasn’t gay, although now, as he observed me thoughtfully, I wondered for the briefest moment if I’d got him all wrong.

  ‘Oh, no, there isn’t anyone, no one special at least.’ He looked wistful for a moment. ‘Mum and Dad,’ he stuttered, ‘they’ll find this hard, but they will get through it. They’re very strong together and they have lots of support around them. They’ll beOK. In time.’

  Sadness washed over me. There was nothing I could do for him nor his loved ones left behind. I felt totally helpless. Jimmy was putting on a good show of coping, but his underlying vulnerability was tangible. There must be something I could do to help. Restlessness made me itchy.

  ‘Well, we can’t just sit around here waiting for the ghost train to turn up. We have to do something. Find out how we can get you sent on your way to your rightful place in the … in the, um, universe.’

  ‘Great! And you have some ideas on how we might do that then?’

  ‘No, not yet. But how difficult can it be?’

  Jimmy shrugged, his dark eyebrows shooting high up into his forehead.

  ‘Tomorrow, we’ll get started,’ I said, sounding much more confident than I felt. ‘We’ll do some research, there must be oodles of stuff on the internet about it.’

  ‘Yeah, I bet,’ said Jimmy doubtfully. ‘There is one thing you could do for me before then though.’

>   ‘Yes, of course.’

  ‘Do you have anything to eat?’

  ‘You’re hungry?’ I asked, my lip curling involuntarily in disbelief.

  ‘Are you kidding? I’m bloody ravenous. I’ve had a heavy day out there.’

  My mind did a quick inventory of the contents of my larder. I hadn’t been food shopping in days, but I knew there was a loaf of bread and some bacon in the fridge.

  ‘How does a bacon sandwich sound?’

  ‘Heavenly!’ he sighed with an enormous grin.

  A ghost with a sense of humour, a possessive regard of my remote control and a healthy appetite, sitting large as life in my living room, was something that might take a bit of getting used to, but I supposed sharing a bacon sarnie and a cup of tea would be a good place to start.

  Chapter Three

  The doorbell reverberated through my flat early the next morning. I jumped out of bed, panic washing over me. The events of yesterday afternoon and evening flashed into my head in a messy jumble. It was a dream, right? I’d imagined the whole thing. Thank goodness for that. Poking my head out of the bedroom door I saw the remains of our late-night snack. Two empty plates, two empty mugs and the faint whiff of bacon lingering in the air. Oh God. Definitely not a dream. Maybe some sort of mental breakdown then, I thought, with just a faint edge of hope. Even that scenario seemed preferable to the reality creeping into my mind like the early morning sunshine filtering into the hallway. Tiptoeing down the corridor, I stopped outside the guest bedroom, gently pushing open the door, hoping against hope that it would be empty. There, sprawled over the double bed, his long limbs tangled in the white sheets was the new man in my life, Jimmy Mack. No dream, but a living nightmare.

  The doorbell rang again, more insistently this time.

  ‘Coming,’ I called hastily, trying to rid myself of the overwhelming sense of guilt I felt. OK, so there was a dead man in my flat, but it wasn’t as if I was personally responsible or anything like that.

  ‘About time,’ grinned Lexie, holding open her arms for our customary hug, as she stood in the doorway. Purple tufts of wayward hair framed her elfin features. A multi-coloured stripy short skirt, mauve leggings and black T-shirt completed her inimitable look.