Page 2 of Inbetweeners
Heaven might sparkle, but it was Dull. With a capital D.
He glanced up, almost expecting to be struck by the Big Guy’s personal bolt of lightning because Emmett was an ungratefulfluffer, but he wasn’t that lucky. Heaven was the brightest coloured, most magnificent, most amazing place he’d ever seen, and it was still Dull. Now something had happened, and he’d beenselected,he should be happy—possibly, except he’d forgotten what happy felt like. Plus, there was that niggling worry overwhathe’d been selected for. He swallowed his sigh. It would be nothing that would delight him because Emmett wasn’t sure anything could do that. It would probably turn out to be an intensive training course on how to be perfect so he could be one of theperfect peopleand make other people perfect. Failure not allowed.
Emmett became aware that he was under scrutiny and he tuned back in to find Azrael and Hadraniel were staring at him. They’d almost definitely listened in to every thought he’d had.Shhhh…ugar.
“You’re going back,” said Hadraniel.
Emmett started. After all that private chatter and that was what they came up with? He should go back to his job tending flowers that needed no tending? Or back to his pod?
Or… back-back?
For a moment, Emmett’s heart surged with something approaching joy, but it had been such a long time since he’d felt it, he couldn’t be sure it wasn’t indigestion. Butbackcould mean a lot of things and it most likely wasn’t thebackthat had just come to mind. More likely to bebackto his first job in the reception centre, working with new arrivals. Because he was so suited to that—Not!Orbackto the assessment room, his second job, where he’d helped ascertain where the newly dead needed to be sent.As if I fluffing cared.
Was he being given work to do elsewhere because of the mosaic table? He’d been forced to accept one leisure activity from a list where none appealed. Creating a mosaic pattern for a table top seemed less offensive than learning to knit or play golf. He thought back to the table on which he’d painstakingly created the image of an erect cock and balls with a fountain of…No, don’t think of it.He’d changed it before anyone had seen, hadn’t he? On the other hand, there were many up here who saw everything before you’dblippingwell done it.
“You chose to remember nothing of your friends and family,” said Azrael.
Emmett blinked. Had he missed anything?
“But you will recall what’s necessary to function effectively.” Hadraniel glared at Azrael. “Only a year has passed. London hasn’t changed much.”
Emmett was numb with shock.London? Backmeant back!
“You’ll be working under the supervision of Tar at Paranormal Resolutions,” Hadraniel said. “PR can be found at 17 Drill Street, Greenwich. Tar’s expecting you. Don’t let us down.”
They waved Emmett out of the room and as he reached the door, he remembered his manners and turned to say thank you, but there was no one there. He said it anyway. Maybe this was a dream. Maybe all of it was a dream. How many times had he hadthatthought?
He stepped through the door into a wall of mist that most definitely hadn’t been there when he’d arrived for his appointment. For the first time since he’d landed in Heaven, he felt…excited, but he still walked gingerly into the cloud because you just never knew what you were going to find.
When Emmett stepped out of the mist, he only just held back his gasp. He was standing by the Thames in Greenwich, not far from the Cutty Sark. He sucked in a breath of slightly chilly evening air, the scent of churros and beer swirling around his head, and very nearly broke down. He had no idea what he’d done to deserve this chance.Nothing!UnlessZedekialliking one of his flowery tables counted. Rather unlikely since the Archangel had also admired Gillian’s, and hers was a complete mess.So it was probably a mistake, but Emmett wasn’t going to fuck things up.
Arrgh. I thoughtfuck! I can swear?He whispered, “Fuck,” under his breath and gulped.
He glanced down at the clothes he was wearing. A blue shirt and a tie, grey chinos and Vans. They weren’t what he’d had on a little while ago. If it was a little while. For all he knew getting here might have taken days. Time had turned into something no one bothered about. But this was the way he used to dress when he’d been alive. He liked looking neat and smart. Appearances were important. Those memories were there. He felt…comfortable in these clothes, even though he looked like one of the preppy lot who organised daily bible study in atriums one through twelve. He searched his mind for memories of why he knew where he was and came up with nothing. Greenwich was familiar and he might have lived or worked here, but he didn’t remember.
Emmett dragged the tie through his fingers, running his thumb down the back in what felt like an instinctual habit, and looked out over the river, trying to pull himself together. Maybe everything would be made clear at PR. He patted his pockets, but they were empty. No phone—though who could he call? He didn’t remember anyone from when he was alive. He half-regretted that decision now, maybe more than half-regretted, but it wasn’t as if he could go up to an old friend, tap him or her on the shoulder and sayguess who’s back!Not without giving them a heart attack, when he’d apparently died a year ago.
He turned away from the water and headed into town. As he passed people, he wondered if they could tell that he no longer belonged. But no one gave him a second glance, which made him question whether he could actually be seen. He accidentally-on-purpose side-stepped into a guy just to see if he really had a body, and it turned out he did.
“I’m so sorry,” Emmett apologised. “I wasn’t looking where I was going. I do beg your pardon.”
“No worries.” The man kept walking. An Aussie or maybe a Kiwi. Emmett was pleased he knew that. Even more pleased that he’d arrived with a proper body that could touch and be touched. Even if he didn’t have anyone to touch or be touched by.
Finding the address wasn’t difficult. It was next to a dry-cleaning business. Emmett took a deep breath and knocked on the door. Moments later, it was opened by a tall, dark-haired man who was dressed entirely in black. Black shoes, black jeans, black T-shirt. The guy looked him over and Emmett found himself shivering.
“I’m Emmett…” His surname didn’t come to mind. So that was definitely gone. “You’re expecting me.”
The guy moved aside and gestured for Emmett to enter. The door softly closed, though neither of them had touched it. Emmett followed him down a corridor, through a secret panel in a wall, and eventually they ended up in an ordinary-looking office, with a desk and several chairs, though no windows. One wall was filled with shelves laden with books. It had been a year since Emmett had read a book. There was a library in his part of Heaven, but he’d never been in it. He’d been saving the treat for when he wasreallylow. None of these antiquated volumes looked tempting.
“Sit down.”
Emmett sat.
“I’m Tar.”
Emmett stood up again and held out his hand. Tar ignored it. The guy dropped down behind his desk and stared at Emmett until he sat down too.
“I was going to wait for the arrival of Phoenix, but I suspect he might dally.”
