Decisively, I clicked on my inbox, moving emails into folders, checking off tasks, my mind operating on autopilot. I glanced at my watch. It was two hours since I’d left Jimmy on his own and my attempts at not thinking about him were clearly failing. I’d been scared I might conjure him up in my office and I certainly didn’t need that kind of distraction, but with him constantly in my thoughts and the news of Damon’s departure rattling around in my head, it was almost impossible to concentrate on anything else.
What was Jimmy up to, I wondered, a lonely spirit navigating a hostile world.
I’d once signed up to an online dating agency so I had a small idea how that felt, but however much I tried to imagine myself in Jimmy’s shoes, I couldn’t. It was too awful even to contemplate. How must he be feeling with no one to talk to or confide in? I only hoped he wouldn’t do anything silly in my absence, but even that thought was ridiculous. He was hardly about to throw himself off a bridge or under a train. The worst had already happened.
Even so when I walked back through my front door that night, it was a huge relief to find that Jimmy was still there and to be greeted by the most delightful cooking smells wafting from the kitchen was an added bonus.
‘Ah, you’re home! Good day?’ Jimmy welcomed me from the kitchen doorway wearing black chinos, a tightly fitted white T-shirt, my pinny and a big grin. Simple but dazzlingly effective. He looked as if could have just wandered off a film set, the sight sending a ripple of excitement fizzing along the length of my body. His gaze appraised me and his mouth parted as if he were about to say something before he obviously thought better of it.
‘New clothes?’ I asked, dropping my gaze. Either that or he must have had an account with a Chinese laundry somewhere.
‘My old clothes,’ he said, matter-of-factly.
‘Really? What, did you go back for them or something?’
‘No. I got them sent over,’ he said casually, as if this was indeed the Heavenly Hilton. My brow furrowed in confusion as I looked for clarification. ‘I couldn’t stay in those old things, the whiff of diesel and cow pats wasn’t a great combination so I, um, willed them over,’ he added. ‘A new start and everything.’
‘You willed them over?’ I gave a nervous giggle. ‘How did you do that exactly?’
Jimmy laughed too, turning his attention back to the frying pan.
‘Well, I’m not sure about the technicalities but in the same way that I can transport myself from one place to another, I can do the same thing with projecting an alternative form of myself. This is my casual weekend look,’ he said with a wry grin. ‘Do you like it?’
‘I do,’ I said, sounding like a star-struck fan, but still struggling to get my head round what he was telling me. ‘So you don’t actually change your clothes at all. I’m just seeing what, a different version of you?’
‘You got it!’ he said, as though that was a perfectly reasonable explanation. If it wasn’t for the seriously impressive magic tricks then it would have been easy to forget that Jimmy was a ghost. He was such a vibrant, larger-than-life force occupying my flat and now my head and part of my heart too.
‘Something smells good.’ My nostrils picked out the aromas of garlic, tomatoes and onions. ‘You didn’t need to go to all this trouble.’
‘It’s the least I could do after everything you’ve done for me. It’s just pasta with a tomato sauce. I hope that’s OK?’
‘Sounds perfect,’ I said, accepting the glass of chilled white sparkling wine he was offering. Our glasses chinked, our eyes meeting as we took a sip together, the bubbles on my tongue matching my own fizzing excitement. ‘What about you? How was your day?’
‘Yeah, not bad. Although I missed you, Alice.’ His expression was deadly serious, but his eyes twinkled with mischievousness. ‘I did a bit of cleaning.’ He gestured around him at the gleaming surfaces. ‘I hope you don’t mind?’
‘No.’ I shook my head in amazement. ‘Anytime you get the urge, you go straight ahead.’ I laughed, feeling a pang of guilt that he’d had to resort to getting the duster out. I couldn’t see him sticking out this new role for long. Going from being a feted celebrity to my domestic lackey didn’t seem like the best career move in the world.
In my own flat, I felt redundant wondering what I should do next. I looked around at the uncharacteristically spotless living room and settled myself on the sofa, trying not to mess up the careful display of cushions. For some reason, I felt vaguely nervous as though I was waiting for a job interview.
‘Can I help at all?’ It was a half-hearted offer, but one that went a small way to making me feel better. I slipped off my shoes and kicked them under the coffee table, trying for relaxed.
‘No,’ he said, turning and giving me an indulgent smile. ‘It’s all under control. Just sit back and enjoy.’
‘So where did you learn to cook then?’ I asked a bit later, when we were sat at the table tucking eagerly into the tagliatelle. I hadn’t realised how hungry I was.
‘At uni. I had a few months living off pot noodles, and then decided, for the sake of my health, I needed to learn a few basic dishes that included some green stuff. Thinking about it, I needn’t have worried. Could have stuffed myself silly with burgers, fries and beers.’ He gave a wry shrug. ‘Funny how you spend a lot of time sparing yourself for the future when in a lot of cases there won’t be a future. Let that be a lesson to you, Alice.’ He pointed a friendly finger my way ‘Get out there and live your life to the full, young lady. And eat as many burgers and fries as you want to.’
I laughed, my insides squirming uncomfortably at the further reminder of Jimmy’s perilous condition.
‘Hmm, trouble is, knowing my luck, I’d do exactly that, put on sixteen stone, become an alcoholic bag lady and live to 105. Very old, very fat, drunk and lonely with no one to care for me.’
‘Now that is hard to imagine. But you know what I’m saying, don’t you?’ There was a sincerity in his voice which was hard to ignore. ‘Make the most of what you’ve got, your time here because it could all be over in an instant.’ He clicked his fingers in the air. ‘Work out what’s important to you and go for it.’
I twirled my pasta around my fork, absent-mindedly. That was easy for him to say but then I guessed he had the benefit of hindsight; he was looking at it from the other side. Literally. Like a lot of people, I had a vague idea of the things I wanted from life, but most of those I had pencilled in for some time in the future. But what if my future were to be cut short, like Jimmy’s? A feeling of unease tempered with impatience niggled along my veins.
‘Do it, Alice, before it’s too late,’ he said, as if reading my mind. ‘It’s all too easy to put things off, but my advice to you is to go out there and grab life with both hands. And it’s not things like your career and money that are important, you know that. It’s your friends and family.’ He paused. ‘Your relationships.’
I laughed, looking up into his eyes.
‘Oh dear, you’re beginning to sound like my mother. And my sister.’
‘Really? I’m in good company then. What is it they say exactly?’
‘That I should get our more. Start dating again. I think they’d like to see me settled with someone. It’s been a while since Mike.’
‘Mike?’
‘Yeah, he was my last serious relationship. We were together for about five years and everyone thought we would have the Happy Ending, but it wasn’t to be. We sort of fizzled out.’ I laughed without a smidgeon of self-consciousness. It was such a long time ago now it was almost like talking about another person. ‘That’s not strictly true. Not so much a fizzle as an explosion when I found out he was cheating on me with a couple of other girls. I haven’t really got back into the dating scene since.’
‘His loss, definitely,’ said Jimmy, looking at me intently from beneath long dark lashes. ‘There’ll be some good guy out there for you, Alice. Someone you can be happy with. You’re such a great girl, you deserve to be happy, but you nee
d to get out there and find him. Take it from me, you don’t have as much time here as you might think.’
‘I suppose you’re right,’ I said with a pang of regret. It felt so easy to be talking with Jimmy, safe and reassuring as if I could tell him anything and he would never judge me in any way. Perhaps that was because I knew he wasn’t of this world. That we had something special and sacred that would only ever exist between the two of us. How many conversations did we have left, I wondered, before Jimmy would leave our strange twilight world forever?
‘That’s what they say, isn’t it? You don’t get to your deathbed wishing you spent more time in the office. Was there someone special in your life?’ I probed again. ‘Someone you wished you’d spent more time with.’
‘No, sadly not.’ Now it was Jimmy’s turn to look pensive. ‘I wish there had been. It was all up here,’ he tapped the side of his head. ‘My master plan for the future. I had it all mapped out; a mad passionate love affair with the woman who was to be my wife, a couple of kids, an apartment in town, the big house in the country, a golden retriever, guinea pig, the full works. Only I got stuck at first base. I didn’t get to meet the woman of my dreams.’
‘That’s so sad.’ Tears pricked at the back of my eyes, but I blinked them away. It was such a terrible waste. Jimmy would have made a wonderful husband and a fantastic father too, I didn’t doubt. And now it was too late for him.
‘Actually,’ he said, putting his fork and spoon down, ‘there was something I wanted to ask you.’
‘Of course. Just ask away,’ I said lightly, trying to ignore the growing sense of trepidation in my tummy.
‘I wondered if you’d come with me on Friday?’
‘Friday?’
‘Yes, to the funeral. I need to be there, obviously, but I don’t think I can face it alone. It would mean a lot to me if you came along.’
I hoped Jimmy hadn’t noticed my sharp intake of breath. It hadn’t occurred to me that he’d go to the funeral, well not in a wafting around capacity at least, and surely I’d be conspicuous, not knowing anyone else in the congregation.
‘It’s OK,’ he said, doing that weird thing of seemingly reading my mind again, ‘you can say you were a good friend of mine. There are a lot of friends my family hadn’t got to meet. Please, Alice?’
‘Of course, I’ll come,’ I said, feeling honoured to be asked. ‘I’ll book the day off work tomorrow. It should be fine.’
‘Thanks.’ Jimmy smiled, looking relieved and reached across the table, his hand finding mine. My fingers sizzled, my whole body warming from the intimacy of his touch.
Something stirred deep inside me as my eyes locked with Jimmy’s. I was the only one he had now, the only person in this world who could help him and I wanted to ensure I did everything in my power to do exactly that.
Booking the day off work wasn’t difficult. I rarely took time off so Simon was more than happy to accommodate my request especially when I told him it was to attend a funeral.
‘I’m sorry to hear that, Alice. It wasn’t anybody close, was it?’ He’d looked up from his papers, a genuine concern etched across his brow.
‘Um, a cousin, twice removed, on my mother’s side. I hadn’t seen her in ages. But we were close. As children. Well, I was a child and she was a bit older and then we grew up of course.’ Shut up now, I told myself, but my mouth had gone into hyperactive mode. ‘And then she died. Just like that. Very unexpectedly. So sad.’
‘Oh dear, very sad,’ said Simon. ‘Well, if you need to take any extra time off, then you only have to ask.’
‘Oooh, thank you,’ I said, a little over-enthusiastically, as if he’d agreed to me going off on some jolly. ‘I just need Friday off. That’s all. I’ll be back on Monday.’ I took a deep breath in an attempt to lose the hysterical edge to my voice. I was absolutely hopeless at this lying lark. I always felt everyone could see straight through me as soon as any untruth left my lips and I have to admit Simon was observing me sceptically over the top of his glasses.
‘If you’re sure.’
Hopefully, he’d put my manic, out-of-character behaviour down to the distress of losing my much-loved, if distant, aunt. Or was it my cousin? I needed to be sure of that fact.
He got up from behind his desk and came over and squeezed my shoulder. I nodded in thanks and turned and walked out of his office. I was sure I could hear his huge sigh of relief.
Back at my desk, I settled myself in my chair and checked my inbox.
From: Damon.Mitchell
To: Alice Fletcher
Subject: My Leaving Do.
“Hey, Alice, we’re having a few drinks next Tuesday evening at The Grapes. About 6.00 pm till chucking out time. I hope you’ll join us. Please? I don’t want any of your lame excuses either.’
I fired off a quick reply.
To: Damon Mitchell
From: Alice Fletcher
Subject: Re: My Leaving Do
“Damon, I don’t know what you mean about my lame excuses! I wouldn’t miss your leaving do for the world. Looking forward to it. A.”
My gaze travelled down the list of unread emails.
From: Susannah Orbin, Head of Corporate Entertaining
To: Alice Fletcher, PA to Simon Ibbotson
Subject: Charity Summer Ball
“Just to let you know, following Jimmy Mack’s untimely death, that we have been able to secure the services of Barney Roberts to act as a replacement auctioneer at the forthcoming Company Ball. With the short timescale involved, I hope you’ll agree that we have been extremely fortuitous in being able to book an equally high-profile celebrity to take Jimmy’s place. I’m sure the success of the ball won’t be compromised in any way. Please let me know if there are any problems with this minor change in the arrangements. Kind Regards. Susannah.”
Unbidden, tears filled my eyes. The words blurred before me as I read them again trying to make sense of their meaning. Jimmy had been booked for the Summer Ball? It came like a thunderbolt from the sky. To think that for the matter of a few weeks our paths would have crossed in real life. It tore at my heart to think that I could have met Jimmy in different circumstances entirely.
Through my tears I read the email a further time, the tone making my skin prickle with distaste. How could she dismiss him like that in a couple of sentences? A minor change to the arrangements! It was so much more than that. To all the people who’d loved Jimmy, his fanbase, his friends and family, his passing would leave a huge hole in their lives that could never be filled. The fact that some stupid bloody woman could think he was so easily replaceable enraged me. Why didn’t she care? I cared. Sitting there at my desk I realised I cared so much more than I would ever have thought possible.
‘Alice, are you sure you’re OK? Why don’t you go home early?’ I hadn’t heard Simon come up behind me. Hastily wiping my face with the tissue I recovered from up my sleeve, I nodded.
‘I’m fine, Simon, really. Just an allergy, I think,’ I said unconvincingly, as I attempted to mop up my sodden face. Simon nodded in sympathy, looking as though he’d rather be anywhere else rather than standing over his frankly hopeless PA today. I made a muffled attempt at communication.
‘I was just coming back to see you actually. SNIFF. I’ve got some appointments I’d like to confirm for the diary. SNIFF. And just so as you know Corporate Entertaining have been in touch to say they’ve arranged for Barney Roberts to appear as Auctioneer at the Ball. SNIFF SNIFF.’
‘Ah yes, of course. We had Jimmy Mack down for that, didn’t we? Terrible thing to have happened.’ He shook his head. ‘At his age too.’
At the mention of his name I couldn’t hold it together a moment longer. I broke down into gulping sobs, my whole body shuddering as I looked up at Simon’s stricken face, the full implication of what had happened to Jimmy finally hitting me hard in the chest.
‘Really, Alice, I insist. You need to go home. Take a couple of days, as long as you need. There’s nothing here so urg
ent that it can’t wait until you get back.’
When I walked out that door still sniffing, I don’t know who was more relieved, me or my clearly shaken boss, Simon.
Chapter Seven
Mettlesham was the quintessential English village; pretty cottages with picket gates and thatched roofs dotted around the village green, a pub, The White Hart, that had held centre stage for a couple of hundred years at least, and a Saxon church nestling amongst oak and yew trees. Normally, according to Jimmy this sleepy little hamlet played host to the very occasional visitor curious only about the history of the church or day-trippers sampling the delights of the local inn, but today it was swarming with family and friends of James McArthur who had come to pay their respects. It was supposed to be a small family affair, but I conservatively estimated the crowds to be in the hundreds.
Jimmy had told me about growing up in Mettlesham, about the little village school he’d attended before moving on to the grammar school, a bus ride away in the next big town. It was funny to think I was standing in a place where he’d spent so many happy times, among people I didn’t know, but who had played such an important part in his life.
Jimmy was giving me a running commentary on who was who as the procession of mourners filed into the church.
‘That’s Mrs Butterworth,’ he said, pointing out a large lady in a floaty black skirt and blouse. ‘She was my first teacher at school. Very strict, but a complete sweetheart beneath that slightly scary exterior. Look,’ he whispered in my ear causing the hairs to rise on my neck. ‘There’s Uncle Harry! I used to spend my summers when I was a boy helping out on his farm. Oh, and there’s grandma Rose. Aw, she looks so frail,’ he added wistfully. ‘I hope she’s OK.’
A tall willowy lady hung onto Harry’s arm for support resembling a sunflower lowering its head in deference to the change in season.
‘Those two over there are Paul and Sylvia, our next-door neighbours. I was best friends with their kids Natalie and Ryan. I spent more time in their house than I ever did in mine. They held the best Christmas parties. Ah, I’m going to miss those guys so much.’
Desperately Seeking Heaven Page 5
