Chapter 6
James: I’ll Try Anything
Today I’m spending the day with my gran.
I miss my family back home – my mum, my dad, my sister.
But one of the upsides about being here is being able to see Gran again.
She’s fantastic. She’s always been like she’s from a couple of generations younger than she really is in her outlook on life, and now here, like everyone, she has that amazing healthy glow about her, and it’s hard to guess exactly what afterlife age she chose, because she has a kind of timeless look.
She’s been here for nearly seven years now and is so at home here. I’m still very much a rookie.
The front door of her rose-covered stone cottage is open, and as I walk up the path through her garden, I hear the familiar sound of a Dusty Springfield record playing in the background.
She always loved Dusty Springfield. I can’t hear a Dusty song without thinking of Gran.
It’s like the smell of sourdough bread. My dad would say it’s like Proust’s madeleines, except I don’t even need to taste the bread, just the smell of it in the oven is enough – it always makes me think of Gran.
She baked it so often, and she’d been baking it for decades before it became all trendy and you could suddenly find it in every café on Earth.
I step inside, and sure enough, there she is, busy kneading the dough.
‘Morning Gran!’ I call over the music. She turns round, beaming, and gives me a huge hug, whilst trying to keep her floury hands off my clothes.
‘James! You’re just in time to meet my friend, Daphne.
She can’t stop for lunch, but she’s been so keen to meet you.
I’ve told her all about you,’ she says, proudly.
Honestly, it wouldn’t matter what I did, Gran would still be proud of me.
I swear I could deal drugs and she would somehow spin it into being some kind of benevolent service to help the community.
I follow her into the sitting room.
‘Daphne, this is my grandson, James.’ Daphne gets up – older people are always so polite like that, aren’t they?
They could teach the rest of us a thing or two about manners, that’s for sure.
She’s a bit like Gran with that ageless look, tall and slim with long, slightly silvery hair – probably into Pilates or tai chi.
Definitely looks at peace with the world.
‘You two can get acquainted while I get this bread in the oven,’ says Gran, as she sets down two mugs of coffee, before heading back to the kitchen.
‘How lovely to meet you.’ Daphne shakes my hand and smiles warmly. ‘Well, you’re just as handsome as your grandmother said.’
‘I bet you say that to all the young men.’
Daphne laughs, then adds more seriously, ‘Well, thankfully, even though I’ve been here eleven years, I don’t usually get to meet my friends’ grandchildren. I am sorry that you’re here. And I mean that in the nicest possible way.’
‘Of course. I know it’s pretty good up here and everything, but obviously I’d rather not be here,’ I reply. ‘Have to make the best of it though. No going back, unfortunately.’
‘Sadly not. So, Jean tells me you were in a road accident.’
‘That’s right.’
‘Ironic really, isn’t it? All those dangerous places you served in, and then you get killed cycling in Gloucestershire.’
‘Hmm. It has been said.’
‘Still, at least you died doing something you love.’
‘True.’
‘And it was quick, which in some ways is a blessing. I was ill for eighteen months before I came here, and it was awfully hard on the people I love.’
‘And on you, no doubt.’
‘Well, yes. Cancer is a terrible thing,’ she says, with a slight frown. ‘But at least I’m here now, and it’s definitely easier for us up here than for the ones we’ve left behind.’
‘Yeah, I can see that with my girlfriend, Amy. Did you leave behind a big family?’
‘No, no children. We weren’t able to have any, sadly. But my husband Tom took it badly when I passed. Probably harder because we didn’t have children. They can give you something else to focus on. So, yes, it’s been hard for Tom on his own. He’s still at the crematorium every day.’
‘Every day? After eleven years? That is serious devotion to you!’
‘That and needing my help with the difficult clues in the crossword.’ She laughs.
‘Seriously?’
‘Oh yes, he wouldn’t often finish it without a bit of help from me.’
‘And you can communicate the answers to him?’
She nods, smiling.
‘How? With this meditation thing?’
She looks at me, sizing me up, as if she’s trying to work out if I’m up to this.
I’m impatient for an answer. ‘I have tried. Just on my own, not in a group or anything. But I didn’t get anywhere. It’s not really my forte. I don’t suppose you could give me some pointers for what to do, could you? With the meditating and all that.’
‘All what?’ she asks.
‘Well, the meditating and the chanting and the incense, you know.’
‘No, I don’t know. Meditating? Where did you get that idea from?’
‘My mates. One of them, Luke, he’s an old hand at this.’
‘Is he now?’ Daphne looks like she’s trying not to laugh. Seems odd. But, of course, she doesn’t realise quite how nauseating I find it. To me, having to use incense is no laughing matter.
‘Well, I’m sorry to have to break this to you, but your mates have been pulling your leg.’
‘About?’
‘About the meditating.’
‘Are you sure? They seemed pretty certain.’
‘I’m sure.’
‘Oh, you’ve got to be kidding! And the chanting, and the incense?’
It seems Daphne can’t help a burst of laughter now. ‘No, definitely no need for incense.’
‘So that’s not how you contact people on Earth?’
She shakes her head, still laughing.
‘Oh, I am so going to get them back for this. So just how do I go about making contact with Amy?’
‘Remind me how long you’ve been here.’
‘Ten months.’
‘Ahh, so they won’t have given you access to the app yet.’
‘App?’
‘The app to communicate with people on Earth.’
Now I’m not sure if it’s Daphne who’s winding me up. ‘An app? Are you serious?’
‘Oh yes, perfectly serious, dear. You’ll get it.
You’ve just not been here long enough. They don’t give you access in the first twelve months because they think it’s best to give the people left behind a chance to move on.
After a year, most people are starting on the healing process and they can cope with a bit of communication from above without getting overwhelmed.
And for those who haven’t moved on, the ones who are in what these days they call “complicated grief”, well, they are generally pretty desperate to hear from the person they’ve lost, so it can be the kindest thing for them at that stage. ’
‘So, let me get this straight. When you say app, you mean it’s literally an app? On a phone?’
‘Exactly, just an app. You know the phone you were given when you got here? Well, you know it’s not just for contacting people up here. It has many other functions. I expect you’re already using the viewer to check in on how your loved ones down there are doing.’
‘Yep,’ I nod.
‘Well, after a year you’ll be able to use it to contact Amy – and others if you want to.’
An app. Yes! Now that’s something I can get my head around. Incense is a problem. But an app, that I can do. This is a huge relief. Because I really do want to reach Amy. I need to tell her I love her, and that I’m okay, but that it’s time for her to move on.
‘So how does it work exactly?’ I ask eagerly.
‘As soon as you’ve got the app I’ll show you. That one does take a little bit of getting used to, because it’s not terribly intuitive, unfortunately.’
‘Ah. Is that going to be a problem?’
‘Listen, if an old lady like me can get the hang of it, a young man like you won’t have any trouble.’ She smiles reassuringly. ‘You’ll be fine!’
I’m definitely going to give this communication with Amy a try.
She’s cried too many tears. It’s time she started to enjoy life again.
And if I can reassure her that there is an afterlife and that it’s all good up here, then maybe she can start to do that.
Just a few weeks to wait until I can get the app.
Unless I can persuade The Boss to let me have it early.