Jill Steeples - Desperately Seeking Heaven

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.

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 meant 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.