on angrily texting Adam: You bastard, how could you? Talk about multitasking. I knew how and why he could of course – I’d given him enough cause over the years.
I was so angry I wasn’t paying attention, so I foolishly stepped into the road in front of a car driven by a 17-year-old learner driver whose dad had taken him to Lidl’s car park to practise safely. The poor lad panicked when he saw me, and accelerated instead of braking. I could see his terrified face staring frantically from the dashboard, as to my horror I realized the car was speeding towards me, and I could do nothing to stop it.
I didn’t feel any pain on impact, but the car hit me side on, spun out of control and crashed into the recycling bins. I flew through the air and landed head first into the trolley man who was collecting stray trolleys abandoned by lazy shoppers. I’d have got away with a few breaks and nothing more if it hadn’t been for the damned trolleys. Unfortunately for me, I received a glancing blow to the head, which resulted in a haematoma.
Just my luck.
I felt a moment of excruciating pain, and then people gathered excitedly around me, and the boy driving the car was wailing loudly, ‘What have I done?’
I could just make out the sounds of sirens in the background before everything faded to darkness. The last sound I heard was the music blaring from the store: ‘Simply Having a Wonderful Christmas Time’. Just peachy.
The next thing I knew I was lying on a stretcher and the lights were hurting my eyes. I seemed to be in a vehicle of some kind and we were going at a hell of a lick. I heard a voice saying, ‘Livvy, stay with me,’ before everything faded again.
When I came to I felt as though I was floating in a dreamlike state. I couldn’t quite work out where I was, until I looked down and saw lots of people dressed in blue overalls, wearing face masks and looking grave. They were standing over a body. I was beyond spooked: what the hell was going on?
‘And clear!’ someone said, and a charge went through the body, but nothing happened.
The man holding the defibrillator shook his head and someone said, ‘Time of death: two fifteen p.m.’
Gradually they moved away from the body, unclipping monitors and drips, and suddenly I realized I was looking down at myself.
What just happened? I was thinking. I can’t be … can I? I must be having some kind of strange dream. In a moment Adam and Joe are going to be by my side and I will wake up and everything will be OK.
Adam
Telling Joe I’m off to fetch us a hot drink I go out to the A & E reception desk to ask if there’s any news, but no one can tell me anything. When I’m coming back with a weak hot chocolate for Joe and a tepid coffee for me, I overhear one of the nurses say something about how long they’ve been working on her, and my alarm rises. Oh God, what is happening? One moment I’d been thinking the worst of my problems was facing up to leaving Livvy and now – I seem to be caught in a terrible, unbelievable nightmare. However unhappy we’ve been together, I don’t want anything to happen to Livvy. I feel I am standing on the edge of a swirling abyss, unsure where my future lies.
Guilt, remorse and an overpowering sorrow threaten to overwhelm me but I am trying to hold it together for Joe’s sake. Yet, when he eventually asks, ‘Mum is going to be all right isn’t she?’ I have nothing to offer.
‘I don’t know, Joe,’ I say, sipping my insipid coffee and feeling sick with fear and anxiety. This can’t be happening to Livvy. It just can’t.
But it is. As soon as the nurse comes into the room, I know, without her saying.
I make out the words ‘I’m so sorry,’ but I don’t really hear them, and I’m aware that Joe is rocking back and forth. I try to hug him, but he pushes me away, and then I hear a terrible howl.
It is some moments before I realize it’s coming from me.
Livvy
There is a shout from somewhere, and suddenly I feel as though I have been yanked from the room I am in, and now I am floating in another, smaller white room, where a nurse is sitting down with a shocked-looking Adam and Joe, saying, ‘I am so so sorry.’
Joe is rocking backwards and forwards and I can feel his distress. I try to go to him, but I can’t reach him. I can feel the pain coming from him in waves, pain beyond anything that I have ever felt before, and I find myself howling with him. And then I hear Adam break down and I can see into his jumbled thoughts. One thing stands out very clearly: he is very very sorry and he loves me very much. Whatever else he has done to me, losing me has cost him dear.
Suddenly I am dragged into a long dark tunnel. I am screaming and shouting, ‘Bring me back! I need to go back!’ but to no avail. The darkness overtakes me, and after that there is nothing.
And here, now, in the car park in the dark, I hear a voice pipe up beside me: ‘And the penny drops …’
I would have jumped out of my skin if I’d had any to jump out of. I look around suspiciously in the dark, but I can’t see anything.
‘Oh my God, I’m—’
‘’Fraid so,’ says the voice cheerily.
‘Dead?’
‘Very,’ says the voice.
This is getting extremely weird.
‘Who are you?’ I say.
‘A friend,’ purrs the voice, which doesn’t exactly reassure me.
I look around me at the empty car park. I can’t quite believe it: I’m still here. I’m still standing. I feel the same. How can I be dead?
‘Common reaction,’ is the response. ‘But sorry, you’ve definitely shuffled off your mortal coil.’
‘Aren’t there supposed to be choirs of angels or something?’ I say. If I have really died, shouldn’t I be entitled to a fanfare of sorts?
‘That’s not quite how it works,’ says the voice smugly.
I’m beginning to dislike its owner intensely.
‘Why am I here, then?’ I ask.
‘Where do I start? You’re still here, because you’re not ready to pass over yet.’
‘What do you mean?’ I am instantly on edge. ‘Why do I get to hang about? If I’m dead, why can’t I just go on to wherever I’m supposed to go in peace?’
‘In the words of the trade, you have unfinished business.’
‘Damn right I have unfinished business,’ I say. ‘This is ridiculous. I have to get back to my husband and son. They need me. I want to talk to someone in charge.’
‘Afraid you’re stuck with me,’ says the voice patiently. ‘And your attitude ought to give you a clue.’
‘What’s
