Chapter 6
HEATHER
Doing the same thing for ten years would turn the most pleasurable hobby into a trial. Customer service was not pleasant, and Heather was about to rip her own hair out in frustration.
The petite, fair-skinned brunette in front of her was dressed to attend a ball with a scowl suited for a funeral. ‘There’s no internet in my room.’
‘There’s no internet anywhere in the hotel.’ Heather knew she should stop talking. No good would come of entering a battle of wits with someone unarmed. Yet she couldn’t help adding, ‘Do you realise you’re dead?’
The brunette stomped her foot. ‘I want to talk to management!’
Sitting next to the desk, Jaime closed her book. ‘Then I suggest you pass your test and make it to Heaven. Heather has no way to communicate with the Great Upstairs. If a child can understand that, then how stupid must you be?’
‘You can’t talk to me like that!’
‘Apparently, I can.’ Jaime rolled her eyes.
‘I will be making a complaint,’ the brunette declared, then stomped off dramatically without explaining how she planned to do this.
‘I suppose I should scold you for being rude to a guest.’ Heather reached down and ruffled Jaime’s hair. ‘But I’m no stuffy teacher. Thanks.’
Jaime sighed. ‘I just wanted to read in peace.’
Once, Heather would have pushed back harder against obnoxious guests, but she’d grown tired.
The endless string of grumpy guests never changed.
Powerful people who couldn’t accept that their wealth meant nothing in the afterlife screamed at her that they wanted to speak to God, Satan and Jesus Christ. (Not happening.) Even the swears were tediously similar, since people with different belief systems seemed to end up elsewhere.
Perhaps another hotel, who knows? Other people sobbed and collapsed to the floor.
Heather found those even more painful to deal with.
They wanted reassurance from her that everything would be all right, but she could not in all honesty give it.
Sometimes, the guests refused to believe they were dead.
One had accused her of holding him prisoner and attacked her with a chair.
To be honest, even the blow to her head had been preferable to the endless sameness. If only something, anything, exciting would happen.
Heather’s sin had been anger. Her first and last test had been a yoga class with one annoying person who complained constantly, chewed gum loudly, farted on her and called everyone ‘sweet cheeks’.
Although she’d figured out that she had to ignore it, she didn’t want to.
She believed in standing up for herself and hated diminishing her nature in order to pass, so she’d applied to become a receptionist instead.
A decade in customer service later, her anger had been beaten into despair.
In addition, Heather felt worried because Delilah was six hours overdue to finish her test. Worse, Delilah had never once seemed to understand her test. The chances of her passing seemed slim.
Already Heather had started looking for a job for Delilah, hoping to talk her out of risking a seventh attempt.
When Heather heard the lift move, she expected Damien to arrive with Delilah at reception, the same floor where her room was located. Instead, the lift whooshed past the floor. As it kept on continuing upwards, it could only be going to Heaven.
‘She did it,’ Heather whispered. Unshed tears stung her eyes. She wished she’d said goodbye earlier today. This feeling was bittersweet, knowing she would not see her friend again, but happy for her all the same.
If Delilah could do it despite not understanding her test, perhaps Heather should give her own test another shot. The idea had been lingering in her mind for the past few months.
But what would happen to Jaime?
Heather glanced down at the girl reading next to her desk.
Jaime had been assigned to Floor Heresy, which was out of order.
The definition of heresy had changed so much over time that the hotel no longer knew how to test it.
Too young to apply for a job, and unable to take her test, she was stuck.
There was no one to look after her, so, even though Heather had never liked kids before, she’d fallen into the job.
Somewhere along the way, she’d decided this particular kid wasn’t so bad.
‘Hey, Jaime,’ Heather called. ‘I’ve been thinking about taking my test again.
’ She’d tried to talk about this three times already.
Every single time, Jaime had changed the subject.
This time Heather felt determined to force the conversation.
‘I wouldn’t do it without talking to you first. Seriously, we need to talk about this. ’
Jaime kept her head lowered. Her tone was flat.
‘You’d never pass. You have a voracious temper.
’ She pronounced it as vory-shus, which meant she’d learned the word from one of her books without knowing how to say it aloud.
‘You’re lucky we don’t have a manager any longer for the guests to complain to. ’
‘I’m kind to guests who are polite,’ Heather protested, ‘like Delilah – she’s nice. Our possibly demonic overlords keep sending me entitled people to test my sanity. Is it my fault the guests are annoying?’
‘Everyone who comes here has a sin.’ Jaime sighed. ‘Except me, apparently.’
Heather said, ‘I’d hate to leave you still without a job.
Perhaps we could find a small task for you that counts?
If I could make it to Heaven, then I could find someone important and protest about you being stuck here.
I used to be quite good at starting trouble and challenging authority .
. . That’s probably how I ended up in Purgatory.
Would you be all right looking after yourself while I’m gone? ’
‘I’ll be fine. I don’t need anyone else.’ Jaime’s hands clenched on her book. ‘I was merely concerned that someone who snaps a pencil once a week can’t suppress her anger, but I suppose my concern was unnecessary. Go ahead and leave like everyone always does. It’s not like we’re family.’
That put Heather in her place. She might have come to care about Jaime, but technically they weren’t a real family. It hurt more than it should have, given she’d always said she didn’t want the responsibility of looking after a child in the first place.
A horrible screech came from the direction of the lift, then a whoosh like a large object falling. A distant alarm blared. Even louder than the siren, someone screamed, ‘NOOOOOOOOO!’
Heather had a bad feeling that she was about to regret her earlier wish for excitement.