You Had Me at Halo

usually dead either. “What are they going to do? Kill me? Oh, wait, that’s right. I’m already dead.”

“Actually…” Tyrone cleared his throat. “I think you’ll find there are quite a few fates worse than death.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Holly was stung into replying. “I’ve got to say it’s a pretty disorganized up here. All I keep hearing is, ‘Of course you can’t see your parents yet, Miss Evans; you need to wait until you’re at Level Three for that…No, Miss Evans you can’t go and haunt someone just because they took credit for one of your ideas last month…’”

All around her she could see people catching their imaginary breath in an inward gasp.

That was another thing about this place: Everyone just seemed to sit around doing nothing. Tyrone said it was because on Level One people were still waiting for their security clearances before moving up to their higher destinies. But whatever the reason, it was pretty annoying to always have a peanut gallery of dead people listening in on what she was saying.

“I know it seems frustrating to you right now, Miss Evans, but you just need to try and be patient a bit longer,” Tyrone said in a mild voice, which reminded Holly of just how pointless it was to try and argue with him. “So please, no more talking.”

“Fine.” Holly felt the fight drain out of her as she let out a sigh and turned back to her own funeral. She would try very hard to watch the rest of it without opening her mouth, and— “Oh, gross. What’s Vince Murphy doing there? I mean, just because we both happened to go to the same school together and now work for the same firm is NO reason for him to think we’re friends. And why are all the other technicians there as well? Don’t they have anything better to do?”

Behind her Tyrone coughed and Holly lifted her hand in an apology. “Okay, sorry. I was just a bit thrown to see them…Oh, and why does Vince have all those purple flashing lights dancing around his head? I know he’s weird, but that’s just something else.”

“If you’d read your manual properly you’d know purple lights mean the body in question is about to die,” the same annoying person called out from the peanut gallery. Obviously she wasn’t the only one who hadn’t been filled with joy yet. This guy didn’t seem to be feeling the love either.

“I suppose that’s right next to the bit about no talking during a funeral,” Holly retorted.

“Actually it is. But since you were obviously too busy doing your nails instead of learning how to read before you committed suicide—”

Holly spun around and glared at the man for the first time. “I. Did. Not. Commit. Suicide.”

“Of course not and I guess those pills just magically entered your system,” said the horrible man (who Holly was very glad to note was incredibly fat). “Oh yeah,” he continued with a snigger. “You’re not the only one who looks down at what’s going on. I saw the hospital report and what they said. Apparently it’s not the first time you’ve tried it either. Sounds to me like you’re not only a big mouth, you’re a—”

“Thank you, Mr. Michaels, that’s enough,” Tyrone interrupted before joining her at the window.

“I didn’t commit suicide.” Holly managed to keep her voice low. She could feel her body shaking, which was sort of weird since Tyrone had explained that once a person got to heaven, while their spirit still had the appearance of a body, it didn’t actually work like one. As in no feeding, no watering, no washing.

Or shaking.

Holly put it down to this purging business.

“It’s no one’s job to judge here, Miss Evans.”

“Tell that to the fat guy behind me,” she muttered in a sullen voice as her fingers unconsciously made their way to the scars on her wrist.

Tyrone coughed. “Again on the not being here to judge.”

Holly bit her lip. “Okay. Sorry. He probably has a wonky metabolism or something. But…” she gulped as she stared out the window again. “Is Vince Murphy really about to die? What’s wrong with him?”

“Probably missing your smart wit.”

“Mr. Michaels,” Tyrone said in a quiet voice, which somehow sounded more like a roar than a whisper as it echoed around the large glass fronted room. “One more word and it’s another month on Level One for you.”

Serves you right, Holly wanted to say, but she wisely kept her mouth shut. Besides, Tyrone could be sort of scary. She watched him turn back to her.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with your friend, but it’s true he’s about to die,” he said in a kinder voice. “However, Miss Evans, I have to insist there’s no more talking, because otherwise the matter will be out of my hands. Do you understand?”

Holly nodded her head and lifted her fingers to her lips and pretended to zip them together before returning her attention back to Vince. He certainly didn’t look like he was going to die. Then again, Holly supposed that she hadn’t looked like she was going to die either. However, the rest of her thoughts were lost as she watched her stepmother walked to the front of the church and smoothed out a piece of paper.

She could just guess what was on it. Holly Evans has been the bane of my existence for as long as I’ve had the displeasure of knowing her and despite how much she denies breaking my favorite Clarice Cliff vase, I know she did it…

Of course she knew her stepmother was too clever to say these things aloud, but Holly bet her beloved Miss Sixty jeans, her stepmother was thinking them on the inside. Well, Mrs. Evans number two, you won’t be burdened by me any longer, Holly thought sullenly.

Her eyes were drawn to Vince Murphy again. If she didn’t know better she would say he was about to collapse. Holly could scarcely believe it and she spun back to Tyrone and shot him an accusing glare.

“You didn’t say he was going to die now. As in, right in the middle of my funeral. I’m sorry but this is too much. I don’t get to make up with Todd, I don’t get my wedding and now I don’t even get my own perfect once-in-a-lifetime funeral?”

Again someone hissed at her and she was just about to tell them to shut up when all of a sudden things started to get a little bit shaky. She stretched out her hands to grab hold of the rail that was attached to the large glass window she’d been staring out of all morning.

Holly had been through a lot of strange experiences in the last two weeks—dying, finding out that heaven wasn’t full of M&Ms and Friends repeats, being told off every time she opened her mouth—but there was something different about this. For a start it felt like she was falling. Down. Through a long white tunnel.

Then she opened her eyes as she realized she was hovering just millimeters from her own dead body, complete with puffy face, bad lipstick and a polyester dress.

Oh dear.

Tyrone hadn’t been joking.

She really was getting kicked out of heaven.

CHAPTER TWO

“Right, Miss Holly Elliot Evans, client number XY4588890. The time is two-oh-five and this session will commence immediately. My name is Dr. Alan Hill and I’m here to help.”

Huh?

Holly blinked and stared around her. This wasn’t right. She’d been to St Luke’s Church on the corner of View and Elm plenty of times over the last twenty-two years; her most recent visit being a few seconds ago when she’d seen her dead body. But wherever she was now, it wasn’t church.

Everything, from the funny round beanbags in the corner over to the books in the floor-to-ceiling shelving, was white. Unlike in Level One, there were no windows anywhere to be seen. No wonder she was a little hot and flustered. Did she mention that none of this made sense? What had happened to her? Was she more dead then dead?

“It’s all right to feel a bit confused, Miss Evans. It’s perfectly natural after such a journey. Just take your time.”

Holly blinked again. The man talking to her was sitting on a white leather chair, which was floating in the air. He had red hair, chubby fingers and what looked like a pair of Nike trainers on his feet. Gosh, commercialism really