Desperately Seeking Heaven (7 page)

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 urgent 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.’

‘They’ll miss you too, Jimmy,’ I said, barely able to keep a lid on the emotion bubbling beneath my skin. I felt privileged to be here at Jimmy’s side, but an all-pervading sense of sadness swept through me like a tidal wave.

‘Mum, Dad!’ he said, his voice breaking with emotion. There was no mistaking his parents, Rosemary and Michael, carrying themselves with a quiet dignity as they greeted the other mourners.

I grabbed hold of Jimmy’s hand and squeezed it tight, biting on my lip to stop the tears from falling. The sight of his parents, their bodies clearly wracked with grief, was almost too much to witness.

‘You look just like your dad.’ The older more distinguished version of Jimmy looked across at me and although we’d never met before our eyes locked for a moment in what I hoped was a shared understanding and purpose.

‘Everyone says so.’ Jimmy gave a rueful smile. ‘I think I’m more like my mum in temperament though. We are very close, we were very close,’ he corrected himself. ‘And they are the perfect couple, they have the happiest of marriages. It was what I aspired to and I think probably the reason I never got round to settling down. I was hanging out for the One.’ Jimmy lifted my hand to his lips, brushing the lightest of kisses against my fingertips and I felt my whole body sway against him. ‘Thanks, Alice. For being here. It means so much.’

‘Come on,’ I said, smiling, wondering how I’d ever get through this day. ‘I think we probably need to go in now.’

‘It’s weird to think all these people have turned out for me.’ He paused, looking all around him. ‘Really weird. Half of them, I don’t even recognise.’

‘Well, they obviously know you, Jimmy. They’ve come to say goodbye. It just goes to show how much you meant to so many people.’

‘Yeah,’ he sighed, wistfully. ‘That’s pretty cool, isn’t it? Will you be OK if I wander off for a while? There’s something I need to do.’

‘Yes, of course,’ I whispered beneath my breath, not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention. ‘You go.’ I felt his fingers slip through mine and my heart knotted as I watched him leave.

Surely the others would see him, I thought, my heart thumping in my chest. He was there, as apparent to me as the carved angels on the oak beams stretching across the ceiling and the tall stained-glass windows throwing sunlight down the nave, his distinctive rangy frame casting a seemingly huge shadow. I wanted to run after him, to call his name, to see him turn to look at me with that huge wide smile upon his face, but all I could do was look on helplessly.

The sunlit patterns spreading down the aisle brought a flash of clarity. What if this was it? It hadn’t occurred to me before but it made perfect sense now. That his spirit should be reunited with his body in the beautiful surroundings of the majestic church with all the people he knew and loved around him seemed such a fitting tribute. The perfect solution to our problem too. And yet if this was it, I knew I’d be losing Jimmy forever. That I’d never get to see or speak to him again. My heart twisted in pain, my arms aching to reach out for him.

He slipped into the space between his mother and father and his head fell onto his mum’s shoulder. I saw her turn towards him as if she knew he was there, the tension and grief held rigid in her shoulders escaping from her body in that moment. They stayed like that, perfectly still, completely at one with each other. With tears falling down my cheeks, I couldn’t drag my eyes away from them.

It was a beautiful service, simple and touching. There were readings from his best friend and producer of his TV show, Justin Dawkins, and Paul, the next-door neighbour whose fragile emotions had the congregation hanging onto his every word. Ryan managed to lighten the mood with his tale of the antics of two schoolboys and friends, and the mischief and mayhem they managed to cause in the long summer holidays.

‘Jimmy was, as every single person here will know, a very special person. Not just through his on-screen persona, but as a son, grandson, colleague and, of course, a friend.’ He paused, biting on his lip, his eyes moistened with emotion. ‘He was my best friend. Even as a young boy that special quality that would be so evident in his later life to so many people could be seen shining through. He was, to my great displeasure at the time, a bit of a golden boy. Top of the class in all his subjects, a great sportsman, a talented musician, an accomplished dressmaker…’ he paused, waiting for the expected ripple of laughter. ‘I kid you not. Oh yes, I had more than enough reasons to dislike him, but however much I tried, and believe me, I tried, I just couldn’t do anything more than love Jimmy, in a very manly way, you understand.’

I could see Jimmy joining in with the laughter, enjoying his moment amongst the people who knew and loved him best. I felt humbled to be part of this day. Over the last ten days I’d got to know Jimmy, the man behind the public façade, but being here today gave me an even deeper insight into his huge and warm personality.

Even so, I was relieved when the service was over and we could all file out into the sunshine. I felt someone grab hold of my wrist.

I spun round to face Jimmy, never being so relieved to see anyone in my life.

‘Are you OK?’ he asked, concern drawn on his features.

I nodded mutely, not trusting myself to speak in earshot of the other mourners, trying hard to keep a lid on the sheer pleasure I felt at seeing him again. With a barely imperceptible tilt of my head I indicated to Jimmy to follow me to a quiet spot beneath the canopy of the yew tree away from the milling crowds.

‘Wasn’t it a wonderful service? So touching. I thought…’ Tears pricked at the back of my eyes, relief flooding through my bones that he was still here talking to me, swiftly followed by guilt that I was thinking only of myself. ‘Oh Jimmy!’

‘What?’

‘I thought you’d gone. Seeing you in the church amongst your friends, your coffin, I thought I might never see you again.’

‘And here I am,’ he said, holding his arms open wide, a big grin on his face as though this whole thing was a huge joke. ‘You don’t get rid of me that easily!’ His hand touched my face. ‘Come on,’ he said, guiding me by the elbow through the throng.

Wandering through the crowds I felt like a fraud. As if I was intruding on something I had no right to be involved in, like a gatecrasher at a party. I hung back, trying to blend in with the old stone walls of the church, but Jimmy wasn’t having any of that.

‘There’s someone I want you to meet.’

‘Don’t be silly,’ I muttered, beneath my breath. What was he thinking? It wasn’t as if he could exactly introduce me to anyone. My eyes scanned the unfamiliar faces. People were milling, chatting, their shock almost palpable. And then the crowds suddenly cleared and we came to a halt and I found myself, self-conscious and blushing, in front of Jimmy’s mum and dad.

‘Hello, dear,’ she said, brandishing a smile every bit as bright and wide as her son’s, as she took my hand in hers. ‘Thank you so much for coming. Jimmy would have been so thrilled to see so many friendly faces here.’

‘Yes, wouldn’t he? I’m sure he’s here somewhere overseeing it all, wondering what all the fuss is about.’

She threw back her head and laughed, the sadness in her eyes lifting for a moment.

‘I said exactly the same thing to Michael.’ Her husband squeezed her shoulder and gave me a warm smile. ‘When we were in the church I experienced the most peculiar sensation. An overwhelming sense of peace and harmony came over me. I’m sure Jimmy was there at my side, telling me that everything would be OK. I know that sounds ridiculous, but it’s absolutely true.’

‘No, not at all!’ I only wished I could tell her the truth. That Jimmy had indeed been at her side, but they would all have laughed me out of the church.

‘Jimmy loved a good do. Were you a friend of his…?’

‘Oh yes,’ I said, momentarily taken aback. ‘I knew Jimmy from London. We’d only recently got to know each other, but we were…’ I faltered.

‘Good friends,’ Jimmy whispered in my ear.

‘Good friends,’ I repeated, smiling wryly, sadness filling my heart. ‘I’m Alice. Alice Fletcher. I’m so pleased I could be here today, to be part of this.’

‘Yes, it was a marvellous service wasn’t it?’ She paused, a heavy silence filling the air, her eyes moistened with tears. ‘Are you coming to the pub for a drink and a bite to eat?’

Jimmy took my arm and shook his head.

‘No, I won’t thank you.’ It felt rude to be saying no, but Jimmy was very insistent when he wanted to be. ‘I’m sure you’ll struggle to get all these people in as it is and I really must get back to London.’

‘Of course. Well, we’re very grateful to you for coming, aren’t we, Michael? And if you’re ever up this way, then you must promise to pop in and see us. You know where we live, don’t you? Honeysuckle Cottage on the village green. You can’t miss us.’

‘Thank you. I’d like that.’

I felt a pang of regret for chatting with Jimmy’s parents so very briefly, our paths crossing fleetingly, knowing that, in reality, we probably wouldn’t meet up again. Why would we, without Jimmy being around? And yet here he was beside me, tugging at my hand, urging me to get a move on, playing an ever increasing role in my life.

‘Bye,’ I said, the word catching in the back of my throat.

She didn’t hear me. Rosemary and Michael had moved on, greeting the next group of people who’d come to pay their respects to their son and I was able to slip away, following Jimmy through the shadows of the churchyard.

Chapter Eight

‘What are you doing in there?’

‘I’ll be out in a minute,’ I called, from the other side of the bedroom door, sinking dejectedly onto the bed. Not only did I have to find something suitable to wear from the pile of rags on my bed, but I then I had to go and face my very discerning house guest who had an unnerving habit of hovering with intent. Now I knew why I enjoyed the single life so much. Not having to worry about anybody’s opinion but my own. I threw on my jeans and long tunic top in an exotic floral print rejected earlier because they were far too casual, but in the absence of anything better, I deemed them perfect for a night in the pub.