chat about my personal tragedies. And I don’t think you came here just to warn me about Sally. So what’s the real story? What do you want from me?”
She tore her eyes from the photo. “I don’t really know how to say this.”
“Words usually work for me.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Fending off that question from pretty much everyone I meet.”
“And how long do you plan to keep fending it off?”
“Until you people stop asking and finally leave me in peace.”
“Do you take us for fools, Mr Clarenden?”
“Call me Jimmy, and I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about.”
“You really think you can tell us that you’ve just died and gone to Heaven. Come off it, Jimmy. Anyone who looks at you can see you’re not Heaven material. You’re here for some other reason.”
I shrugged. “So maybe I am.”
Her eyes widened. “So you admit you are?”
“I admit nothing. I’d just like to know why it’s such a concern of yours.”
“It’s no concern. I just thought I might be able to help you, that’s all.”
I laughed. “You really want to help me? You’re a saint.”
“Actually, I’m an angel.”
“Okay, Angel, if you really want to help me . . . ” She angled her head towards me. “ . . . Tell me where in this God-forsaken place I can have some fun.”
Back went the head. “What do you mean, fun?”
“You see, that’s the problem. Nobody here seems to have any conception of how to have fun.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“I know what I’m saying all right. Heaven is a morgue. I could have more fun in an old person’s home. I haven’t even been here a day and I’m already sick of it.”
“Don’t talk like that.” Jessie was on her feet, crying out with surprising violence. Her eyes were filled with tears and her lower lip was quivering.
“Angel, take it easy.”
“You’ve barely been in Heaven a day and you think you know what it’s all about. Well you’re wrong. Heaven is a place where people are happy. It’s a beautiful place, a blessed place. If you can’t see that, then you definitely shouldn’t be here.”
“I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “I’m sure you know far more about these things than I do.”
“Don’t play with me.”
“I’m not playing. This whole business is deadly serious, as far as I’m concerned.”
She looked at me. I looked at her. Nothing moved in my tiny office, save for the slow rotation of the ceiling fan I’d recently installed. Finally, she sat down.
“I’m sorry if that seemed a bit overdramatic,” she said as she went through the whole robe arranging thing again. “It’s just that I care a lot about this place. Maybe in time you will too. Anyway, as I said before, if there’s anything I can do to assist . . . ” As she finished with the robe, she leant forward, listening intently. Too intently.
I said, “You want to help me and I’m a three-legged ostrich.”
She rocked back. “Excuse me—”
“No, you excuse me. I think I’ve figured out what’s going on here. You want something from me, but it’s not something you can just come out and ask for. So instead, you come here with these apologies and warnings and offers to help, hoping that what you want will slip out of my mouth without me knowing it. You’re waiting for me to give you a sign. What sort of sign, Angel? What do you need me to tell you?”
“I think I’d better go.” She stood up again and began walking towards the door. I called after her.
“Is it something to do with Sally? Can you at least tell me that much?”
She stopped and turned back to me.
“Remember, my offer to help still stands. Anything you want, just ask.”
There was something she could do for me all right. “Angel, if you can scare me up a bottle of whisky, I’ll be your friend for life.”
But she’d already walked out of the office, leaving the door open behind her. I peeked through the Venetians and
She tore her eyes from the photo. “I don’t really know how to say this.”
“Words usually work for me.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Fending off that question from pretty much everyone I meet.”
“And how long do you plan to keep fending it off?”
“Until you people stop asking and finally leave me in peace.”
“Do you take us for fools, Mr Clarenden?”
“Call me Jimmy, and I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about.”
“You really think you can tell us that you’ve just died and gone to Heaven. Come off it, Jimmy. Anyone who looks at you can see you’re not Heaven material. You’re here for some other reason.”
I shrugged. “So maybe I am.”
Her eyes widened. “So you admit you are?”
“I admit nothing. I’d just like to know why it’s such a concern of yours.”
“It’s no concern. I just thought I might be able to help you, that’s all.”
I laughed. “You really want to help me? You’re a saint.”
“Actually, I’m an angel.”
“Okay, Angel, if you really want to help me . . . ” She angled her head towards me. “ . . . Tell me where in this God-forsaken place I can have some fun.”
Back went the head. “What do you mean, fun?”
“You see, that’s the problem. Nobody here seems to have any conception of how to have fun.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“I know what I’m saying all right. Heaven is a morgue. I could have more fun in an old person’s home. I haven’t even been here a day and I’m already sick of it.”
“Don’t talk like that.” Jessie was on her feet, crying out with surprising violence. Her eyes were filled with tears and her lower lip was quivering.
“Angel, take it easy.”
“You’ve barely been in Heaven a day and you think you know what it’s all about. Well you’re wrong. Heaven is a place where people are happy. It’s a beautiful place, a blessed place. If you can’t see that, then you definitely shouldn’t be here.”
“I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “I’m sure you know far more about these things than I do.”
“Don’t play with me.”
“I’m not playing. This whole business is deadly serious, as far as I’m concerned.”
She looked at me. I looked at her. Nothing moved in my tiny office, save for the slow rotation of the ceiling fan I’d recently installed. Finally, she sat down.
“I’m sorry if that seemed a bit overdramatic,” she said as she went through the whole robe arranging thing again. “It’s just that I care a lot about this place. Maybe in time you will too. Anyway, as I said before, if there’s anything I can do to assist . . . ” As she finished with the robe, she leant forward, listening intently. Too intently.
I said, “You want to help me and I’m a three-legged ostrich.”
She rocked back. “Excuse me—”
“No, you excuse me. I think I’ve figured out what’s going on here. You want something from me, but it’s not something you can just come out and ask for. So instead, you come here with these apologies and warnings and offers to help, hoping that what you want will slip out of my mouth without me knowing it. You’re waiting for me to give you a sign. What sort of sign, Angel? What do you need me to tell you?”
“I think I’d better go.” She stood up again and began walking towards the door. I called after her.
“Is it something to do with Sally? Can you at least tell me that much?”
She stopped and turned back to me.
“Remember, my offer to help still stands. Anything you want, just ask.”
There was something she could do for me all right. “Angel, if you can scare me up a bottle of whisky, I’ll be your friend for life.”
But she’d already walked out of the office, leaving the door open behind her. I peeked through the Venetians and
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