Desperately Seeking Heaven (14 page)

‘No, keep the tricks purely for Lexie’s benefit, hey?’ I smiled, wishing though, for once, it could be his mum who could see and hear him, not me.

‘The thing is she could spend a lot of time and emotional energy in getting to see and bonding with a baby that isn’t even mine.’

It was a terrible thought. That Jimmy, a dead man, had to live with the lie was one thing, but to think that the repercussions would filter through to his family and friends, affecting their whole lives too. Whatever my personal feelings about Donna, I was sure she couldn’t be aware of the devastation she was causing by the fact of one little lie. No one could be that callous.

‘I could go and see your mum, tell her the true situation.’ Desperation coloured my words. If only there was something I could do to help.

‘Hmm, but then it’s just your word against Donna’s. It might just make matters worse for mum.’

‘I suppose,’ I said. ‘There’s always a DNA test, if it comes to it. I know it’s not something you’d want to insist on, but if it’s going to prove things once and for all, then it might be the only answer.’

Jimmy nodded.

‘Do you know, this whole thing has been a nightmare?’ He reached out a hand to my shoulder, the intensity of his gaze on my face holding me captive. ‘But the one thing that’s made it bearable is having you here at my side. You’ve been so supportive. I mean it, Alice, I don’t know what I would have done without you.’

He placed a feather-light kiss on my forehead, tipping my head back with his finger on my chin. As I felt my eyes close involuntarily, I felt an overwhelming surge of happiness tempered with a stab of loss and regret. If I’d been fighting my feelings for weeks, I knew now with a thud that I couldn’t hang onto them for a moment longer. They’d been swept away by a ghost.

‘I just wish there was more I could do to help,’ I said, looking up into his grey soulful eyes realising I was lost there.

‘Just you being here helps, Alice. I can’t tell you how much.’ He dropped his gaze for a moment before looking up at me with a huge grin on his face. ‘God, I am so starving!’ He rubbed his tummy, bringing me back to the moment. ‘How about you?’

‘Ravenous,’ I agreed. It must have been all the fresh air playing havoc with my appetite and my emotions.

‘There’s a cafe next to the car park. Come on,’ he laughed, taking off, ‘I’ll race you.’

‘Jimmy! Wait. I’m not running, don’t be silly!’ But he wasn’t listening, he’d disappeared off into the distance and I could only limp after him laughing at his exuberance and enthusiasm.

When I caught up with him a few minutes later, he was already at the buffet eyeing up the selections.

‘What kept you?’ he asked, grinning, handing me a plastic tray.

I was panting, but I seemed to be in a constant state of breathless anticipation these days so that was nothing new. ‘I was going to let you have a piece of my bacon,’ I said churlishly, ‘but I’m not so sure now.’

‘Well, to be on the safe side, we ought to get enough for both of us,’ he said, loading my plate high, first with bacon, then with sausages, tomatoes, mushrooms, fried bread, two eggs, and, finally, black pudding.

‘Yuk,’ I said eyeing it warily.

‘What? It’s delicious. You don’t know what you’re missing out on. Ooh, don’t forget the toast,’ he said, putting the entire contents of the bread basket on my plate.

At the till the young sylph-like cashier surveyed my tray with undisguised disgust.

‘Someone’s hungry,’ she said, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow.

‘Oh, I’m in training,’ I said airily, ‘for the London Marathon.’ I did a little jog on the spot for demonstration purposes. ‘I need plenty of proteins and carbs. I’ll have all this run off by lunchtime.’

Her mouth fell open and I noticed the small shake of her head.

‘Come on, my very favourite, highly-toned athlete.’ Jimmy gave me an affectionate slap on the backside, making me squirm and giggle on the spot. ‘I’ll race you to the table.’

‘Must dash,’ I called to the cashier who was giving me a very dismissive look as I jogged off, following my very favourite ghost to the table.

Chapter Fifteen

The week in the run-up to the Charity Ball was absolutely manic at work so I was relieved when Jimmy explained he had plans of his own.

‘Listen, Alice,’ he said, grabbing my hand one morning as I was about to leave for work, ‘I’ve got some stuff to catch up with this week so don’t worry if you don’t see me for a few days.’

‘Oh?’

‘Yeah, seeing my parents the other day made me realise I have some unfinished business to sort out. I want to pop in on a few people, say my goodbyes. So no freaking out if I’m AWOL for a while. I promise I’ll be fine and I’ll be back as soon as I can.’

‘What’s happened, Jimmy? Have you heard something then? You’d tell me if you’d been given a leaving date, wouldn’t you?’

Jimmy shook his head, laughing.

‘I might be wrong, but I don’t think I’ll be receiving written notification through the post. But hey, if I do, you’ll be the first to know.’

‘OK,’ I said, feeling foolish. Ever since we’d met up with Donna, I’d been in a heightened sense of panic thinking Jimmy would be taken at any moment. Despite his reassurances to the contrary, how would I know if he’d ever come back again? And would he even have any say in the matter?

A shiver rippled down my spine at the thought of him wandering off on his own again and those poor unsuspecting people on the end of an unexpected visit from the ghostly apparition of Jimmy Mack. He’d probably scare them half to death. Mind you he was looking particular delectable this morning. In what was becoming his daily uniform of dark jeans and fitted white T-shirt, the strong hard lines of his body were accentuated. And I don’t know whether it was my imagination, but it seemed with each passing day that Jimmy’s eyes grew a shade darker, their depths becoming more intense and soul-bearing. I was sure the flecks of silver in his hair were becoming more plentiful too and the pallor of his skin gave an ethereal effect sending my stomach into freefall.

‘OK, just be careful out there.’ Who knew what dangers were lurking in the murky places he was frequenting. ‘Do you think there’s a whole host of people out there making from beyond the grave visits? It’s a bit creepy when you think about it.’

‘Thanks. People like me, you mean?’ asked Jimmy, looking offended. ‘I don’t know. I’ve a feeling there’s not that many of us around. Would be nice to meet a fellow in-betweener, but I think I could be something of an anomaly.’

He gave half a smile and my heart twisted in sympathy.

Not for the first time I was reminded what a precarious predicament he was in. Stuck between one world and another. And for how long we just didn’t know. Never being able to find any real peace or contentment. Forever caught betwixt and between.

‘Well, you’re a very lovely anomaly,’ I said, stroking away a thread from his T-shirt. I’d miss him; his easy companionship, the sight of his coffee mug around the place, the scent of his skin.’Just be careful, won’t you?’

‘I’ll be fine,’ he said, leaning in to kiss me on the cheek, his touch sending tingles down the length of my body, leaving me wanting so much more. ‘I’ll catch up with you later in the week.’

By Friday night, after a hectic few days at work, I was hot with anticipation at the thought of seeing him again. Walking through the door to my flat, I kicked off my shoes, deposited my jacket on the back of a chair, my jumper on the coffee table and my jewellery on the small bureau.

I ran the bath, lit my two Jo Malone orange blossom candles and put Al Green onto the CD before helping myself to a large glass of chilled Sauvignon Blanc. Taking my wine with me, I eased myself into the bath, immediately feeling the tensions of the week melt away. I was still there an hour later, when the water had turned an uncomfortable lukewarm and my skin had taken on the fetching crumpled appearance of a Chinese fighting dog, and was just stepping out and easing myself into my big fluffy dressing gown when the familiar cool whoosh of air that always heralded Jimmy’s arrival whipped beneath the bathroom door.

‘Hi, Honey, I’m home!’

‘Hey!’ The deep mellow tones of his voice immediately lifted my spirits. Relief flooded through my bones knowing he was home at last.

‘Hang on, I’ll be there in a moment.’ Hurriedly, I rubbed my hair dry with a towel, glancing cursorily at my reflection in the mirror. Devoid of make-up, my skin was glowing pink and my eyes had taken on a piggy quality. Probably not the best look for welcoming home a gorgeous man on a Friday night, but knowing what a gentleman Jimmy was, he would probably pretend not even to notice.

‘Hi, how are you? How was your week?’ I said, from beneath the hood of my dressing gown as I emerged in a fuggy glow from the bathroom door.

‘Oh, I didn’t interrupt your bath, did I?’ Gently he pushed down my hood and placed a kiss on my cheek as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do. I had to restrain myself from standing on tiptoes, flinging my arms around his neck and smothering him with tiny little kisses.

‘No, I was finished, anyway.’ Banishing such inappropriate thoughts, I contented myself instead, with a gentle pat of his back, wondering again what the social etiquette was for greeting very good-looking ghosts.

‘Good. Let me get you a nice glass of wine.’ He wandered off in the direction of the kitchen. ‘What do you fancy for supper, a takeaway or shall I make us an omelette?’

‘An omelette sounds delicious, but you don’t want to be cooking.’ For some reason I felt ridiculously self-conscious as though I was meeting Jimmy all over again for the first time. ‘You’ve only just got in. I’m sure there’s a pizza in the freezer we can bung in the oven.’

‘Nonsense,’ he said, his face beaming from around the kitchen door, ‘it won’t take me a minute. I got you a present, by the way. Take a look in the bag there.’

A very expensive-looking carrier bag stood proudly on the floor.

‘What is it?’

‘Well, it won’t be a surprise if I tell you, will it? Have a look,’ he laughed.

Curiously, I picked up the white glossy bag with the gold fancy lettering. Peering inside, I pulled out a cloud of pink tissue before my fingers landed on the silky, rich material.

‘Jimmy, it’s beautiful,’ I cried, lifting out the dress and holding it aloft, my hands running over the expensive fabric.

‘Well, I thought you couldn’t go to the ball without a knock-them-dead dress to wow them in.’

‘Oh, Jimmy!

That was typical of him. So thoughtful. I mentioned how I’d probably end up airing my old faithful little black dress, not having the time or the money or the inclination to go out and find something new and now he’d gone and done the job for me. And what a fabulous dress it was. The colour of deep blush wine, it had a plunging neckline with a gentle ruffle leading from the décolletage down through the centre of the floaty fabric. It would skim the body in all the right places and was guaranteed to look stunning.

On the right person.

Only I wasn’t the right person, I thought sighing wistfully.

From years of bitter experience, I knew that finding a dress to fit my decidedly off-the-peg figure wasn’t nearly as simple as Jimmy might have imagined. There was always some part of my body, my big boobs, my long body or the too wide hips, that took exception to any outfit that I tried on which was why, invariably, I ended up going home empty-handed from any shopping blitz. Never in a million years would this beautiful dress ever fit me.

‘Where did you get it from though? You’re not going to try and tell me this has come from the supermarket too?’

‘No, don’t be silly, Alice. I ran it up on the sewing machine.’

‘Oh yeah, right! Now who’s being silly? Come on, tell me! I can’t possibly accept anything that’s come from some dodgy underworld dealing. I don’t mind keeping company with a ghost, but I don’t want to be arrested as an accessory for handling stolen goods.’

Jimmy raised his eyebrows and shook his head.

‘You have an overactive imagination, do you know that? I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not involved in any dodgy dealings. I’ve told you, I made the dress. If you don’t want it you only have to say so.’

‘You made it? No way! How did you do that?’

‘Well, first I pinned the pattern on the material and then…’

‘No! Not how did you make it, just how did you manage to do that? I don’t understand.’

‘When I went to my mum’s. It’s been a few years since I’ve used a sewing machine, but after a few false starts, it all came back to me. My mum’s a dressmaker by trade. I learnt to sew when I was very young.’

‘Are you serious? That is so cool.’

‘Not when I was a kid, it wasn’t!’ His warm laugh caressed me. ‘I quickly gave up sewing when I started getting grief from the lads at school, but it’s one of those things that stays with you. I wanted you to have something special for the ball and this was the only way I knew how.’

‘You did that for me?’ My heart swelled. ‘Where did you get the material from? And the pattern?’

‘The material was from mum’s attic, she has a whole stash up there, and the pattern. Well, don’t you recognise the design? You said how much you liked the dress. That’s why I chose it.’ He picked up the glossy magazine on the coffee table and opened it to the centre double-page spread showing celebrities at a recent awards ceremony.

‘Oh my God, it’s the same dress! And you made it? I can’t believe it. That is so amazing, Jimmy. Thank you so much.’

‘My pleasure. Aren’t you going to try it on then?’

And now I’d have to let Jimmy down. After all the trouble he’d been to as well.

‘I will do, later,’ I said, carefully placing the dress back in its tissue.

‘No. Go and pop it on now. I insist. While I’m doing the tea. I’m dying to see what it will look like on. When I saw that colour I just knew, instinctively, that it would suit you.’

I smiled, weakly. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer. At least Jimmy would see with his own eyes the futility of the situation.

‘Won’t be a minute then,’ I said, wandering back into the bedroom. Trying on clothes was a nightmare at the best of times, but with a willing and enthusiastic audience waiting, it only made matters much worse. I slipped off my robe and stepped into the dress. Surprisingly, it didn’t get stuck over my hips or around my tummy and zipped up easily at the back. It felt gloriously feminine and delicate against my skin, the soft folds of fabric swishing around my body, my bare nipples reacting to its silky touch. I spun round to examine my reflection in the mirror and gasped. I stepped forward, peering into the glass, my hand instinctively reaching out to the unfamiliar image checking it was really me. Amazing. The dress fitted perfectly. The fluted sleeves sat perfectly on my shoulders and the red silk fabric swept over my body accentuating my breasts and waist and hips. It could have been tailor-made.