He takes a moment before answering, which gives me a chance to look around and see where exactly I am.
Oh, for Jaysus’ sake.
Back in the old folks’ home. In what looks like the day-care room. Except we’re alone, sitting on a brown corduroy sofa in front of the TV, which thankfully is switched off, so there’s no daytime racing on. At least.
‘Let me try to explain,’ Dad begins, slowly and calmly. ‘At this moment, your poor little body is lying in what I believe is called a medically induced coma. The swelling to your poor brain after the accident was so huge that your doctors felt this was your only chance.’
‘Dad, how do you know?’
‘Because I was there.’
I look at him, in complete and utter bewilderment. ‘But . . . but you never told me. That all along I was alive, the whole time.’
‘Oh, pet, I know this is hard for you to hear, but let me try to explain where I was coming from. After the accident, when you first came here, remember how I told you this was an assessment area? And how worried you were about it?’
‘Yeah, but . . .’
‘. . . and I told you that your assessment would happen in good time?’
‘Yes, of course . . .’
‘Well, you’ve just completed it, pet. And now, a final decision has been made.’
Now I don’t feel faint any more, I feel nauseous. Panicky. Dreading what’s going to happen next. Worse than waiting on X Factor results.
‘Tell me,’ I manage to stammer, weak as a kitten. ‘Please, just tell me.’
A long pause. All I’m aware of is my heart battering against my ribcage.
‘It’s been decided that you’ll go back.’
‘Back to . . . my old life?’
‘Pet, hear me out. You came to us here when you were still in a coma, and that’s why you had to be assessed. So it could be decided whether or not you were ready for death. Ready to join us on this plane, that is. Ready to be a wise angelic presence. What we thought was that, by revisiting your life and all of the people you’d left behind, you would in time, come to see that, actually, you’d so much to live for. And what better way to do that than as an angel? That’s why I sent you to Regina. That’s why you went on the AWE programme. It was important that you could see for yourself what a wonderful life you really had all along.’
‘So being an angel . . . was my assessment?’ There was me thinking it was just something to do to pass the time and get me out of the old folks’ home.
‘That’s right, pet.’
‘But I was completely useless, wasn’t I? A big, rubbishy, useless failure. I failed my assessment, like I failed every other assessment I ever sat in my life.’
‘No, not useless, and certainly not a failure.’ He smiles in that slow, gentle way he has. ‘Never that. It’s been decided that it’s just not your time, that’s all. That you still have your whole life’s purpose ahead of you to fulfil. But look how far you’ve come, pet. When you first came here, you felt you had nothing to live for any more, remember? Now . . . well, you can see for yourself just how loved you are down there, can’t you? Yes, so maybe a relationship didn’t work out, but there are so many other reasons why it’s wonderful news that now you get to go back and start all over again. Why this is absolutely the right thing for you. Do you see now?’
The funny thing is that I do. Shell-shocked and all as I am right now, I can see what Dad is saying makes total sense. I know, just know in my heart and soul, that my going back is . . . as it should be. I remember back to how raw and emotional I was when I first came here, when all I could eat, drink, sleep or think about was James and how ill-used I’d been. But now, when I think about him, I feel nothing. No, that’s not true, I feel . . . pity. And hopeful that he’ll try to behave a bit better from now on. But nothing else.
Which, given the state I was in when I first came here, is kind of a minor miracle.
‘So, do you see, pet? I couldn’t tell you that you were still alive, because if your assessment had gone the other way . . .’
He doesn’t even need to finish that sentence. We’re both thinking it. If I’d been any use as an angel, then I’d have got to stay. Really die, this time, that is.
Jaysus.
‘But . . . but . . .’ I stammer. ‘What about Regina? I mean . . . the last time I saw her, when I was . . . hauled back up here, she was . . .’ I stop short of saying what I really want to, which is, ‘she was completely vicious to me’, and trail off with, ‘she was . . . well, let’s just say she gave me a right earful about making such a mess of things.’
Dad smiles. ‘Yes, pet, she mentioned that she might have been a little hard on you, all right.’
‘A little?’
‘From the very start, though, she felt that you weren’t ready to join us here. That it just wasn’t your time. After she’d spoken to you, she even sent you back to Earth again, to give you a second chance. Just to be absolutely certain. And . . .’
‘And she was right,’ I finish the sentence for him, my mind still reeling. ‘So . . . I wasn’t actually being assessed for heaven or hell at all, was I? The whole time, I was being assessed for . . . for . . . life or death.’
Good Jesus. I’m starting to tremble all over again. Completely shocked at just how close I came.
‘But, Dad . . .’ I eventually manage to croak.
‘Yes, pet?’
‘There’s something I don’t get. When Regina sent me back that second time, I . . . well, I really did try my hardest. Honestly, I didn’t interfere or play God. I even managed to be nice to James.’
‘I know you did, Charlotte. Try to understand though: in spite of all your best efforts, it’s just been decided that you have more, so much more, to live for than to die for. The world is a better place with you in it, and not over on this side. At least not yet. Not till it really is your time to join us here.’
Then Dad looks at me, keenly. ‘What are you thinking, pet? I hope you’re not unhappy about this?’
‘No, not at all.’ I manage to smile at him. ‘I was thinking about Kate and Fiona and Mum and how . . . how, over the last while, all I’ve wished for is that I could be there for them. I felt so heartsore and useless that all I could do was look on at them and do nothing. So many times in the last while, I’ve wished for this; wished I was still alive, that is.’
‘Well, your prayers were heard. Now you know that the door is open, pet. You can go back anytime you like. Just say the word.’
I have never felt such a conflict of feelings in my whole life, death, whatever you call this no-man’s-land I’m in now. I’m . . . thrilled that I get a second chance at life, because how many people in this world get to say that? But . . . there’s something else. Something so painful that I don’t know if I can even say it aloud. Without bawling crying, that is.
‘Dad . . . I know that I messed up really badly when I was meant to be lighting, guarding, ruling and guiding. I failed my assessment, but now . . . the worst part is . . . now . . . now I have to say goodbye to you.’
‘Oh, my little Charlotte. Don’t you remember me telling you? I could never leave you, and I never will.’
And that’s when the tears start rolling.
I heave and gulp back a fresh load of tears. I think about Mum, and how much I miss her. How overjoyed I know she’ll be to see me open my eyes in that hospital bed and come back to her. Then I think about Kate, and this time the tears turn to full-on sobbing.
Dad’s read my mind.
‘Kate will be just fine, you know, pet. Her heart will heal, just as yours did. She’ll make such a wonderful mother, and has great happiness ahead of her. Few people on the mortal plane are ever lucky enough to know the great happiness that Kate will. But in the meantime, I know she could certainly use having her little sister around.’
I take a minute to wipe my eyes.
‘And while you’re back there, maybe it’s time to think about following your dream,’ Dad says enc
ouragingly. ‘Be a producer. You’ve always wanted to do it, and I know you can. It would work, you know.’
He’s gripping my hand now, and what’s weird is that some of his confidence is somehow slowly starting to seep into me.
‘It would? For real?’
‘Within five years, pet, you will be one of the most successful producers in town. And I’ll be watching over you. Every single step of the way.’
A surge of excitement comes over me. It might just work. I might just be able to achieve my dream. No more Miss Useless Failure going nowhere in a dead-end job. I could go into partnership with Declan, could start pitching to TV studios . . . I could do something I love. And best of all, I could be with my loved ones while I’m at it.
‘This is the right thing, I know. It’s just that . . .’ I say, welling up all over again. ‘Well, when I go back, Dad, I won’t see you again, will I?’
Call me unmitigatingly selfish, but I’m a great one for wanting to have my cake and eat it. Plus, what’ll I ever do without him?
‘But I’ll see you, pet. Every single day.’
Suddenly, out of nowhere, our surroundings start to fade, as the light begins to get brighter and brighter, warmer and whiter. Pretty soon, I can’t see the old folks’ home any more, everything is just a big, blinding glare. No more brown corduroy sofas, or TV or stair lifts.
Just whiteness. Blinding whiteness.
‘It’s time, pet. Time for you to go.’
I hug him so tight I think I’ll never let him go.
‘Oh, Dad. What will I do without you? What did I ever do without you?’
‘Remember what I told you, pet. I never could leave you, and I never will.’
‘I love you so so much. I’ll never meet a man who can hold a candle to you.’
‘Oh yes, you will, my little pet. And an awful lot sooner than you think.’
‘Goodbye, my darling Dad,’ I sob, actually able to feel my heart breaking.
‘It’s never, ever goodbye, pet. Because I’ll be right here.’
Next thing I’m aware of, I’m lying on my hospital bed, still gulping back the tears from saying goodbye to Dad.
Mum is here, and Kate is here, and I can feel them holding on to one of my hands each.
Somehow, I manage to open my eyes.
And, just like that, I’m back.
Acknowledgements
Huge thanks, as ever, to Marianne Gunn O’Connor, amazing agent, amazing friend and an amazing human being. Oh, and, by the way, she’s officially the hardest-working woman in the Northern hemisphere. I’m also lucky enough to have THE most wonderful editor in Francesca Liversidge, whose brilliance and kindness are legendary among all her Irish ‘family’. Visit soon, please!
Thanks to the incredible team at Transworld, especially Larry Finlay, Joanne Williamson, Madeline Toy, Sarah Roscoe, Jessica Broughton, Gary Harley, Martin Higgins, Kate Tolley and Vivien Garrett. I am so grateful to you for your hard work and support. Thanks also to Eoin McHugh and Lauren Hadden at Transworld Ireland; it’s such a pleasure to work with you all.
Huge thanks to all the team at Gill Hess: Declan Heeney, Simon Hess and Gill – the man himself. And, of course, to my friend Helen Gleed O’Connor; going on book signings with you somehow never feels like work!
A very special hi to Pat Lynch; what would any of us do without you? And to the fabulous Vicki Satlow, who’s always so positive and encouraging when I tell her my half-baked ideas and who does such an incredible job. And who knows? Maybe Morag Prunty and I will be allowed back to Italy very soon . . . hee, hee . . .
A huge thank you to Wendy Finerman in the US, an incredibly gifted and visionary lady who it’s my absolute pleasure to work with. And to Robin Swicord and Liza Zupan for all their tireless hard work in getting I Never Fancied Him Anyway to the screen. You are all so talented and inspirational and I’m deeply indebted to you.
Special thanks to all at HarperCollins in New York, especially Carrie Ferron, Claire Wachtel, Julia Novitch and Tessa Woodward. See you all very soon, I hope. Thanks also to Karen Glass and a special hi to Drew Reed at Fox . . . hope you’ll come to Ireland very soon!
On a personal note, thanks as always to Mum and Dad, Richard, Patrick, Sam, Clelia Murphy, Clara Belle Murphy, Susan McHugh, Sean Murphy (and Luke too!), Karen Nolan, Larry Finnegan, Isabelle and Miss Caroline, Marion O’Dwyer, Alison McKenna, Frank Mackey, Fiona Lalor, Sharon Hogan, Sharon Smurfit, Cathy Belton, Karen Hastings, Kevin Reynolds, Derick Mulvey, Rory Cowen, Weldon Costelloe, and all the Gunn family.
A very special thank you to four amazing ladies: Patricia Scanlan, Anita Notaro, Amanda Brunker and Morag Prunty. Always on the other end of the phone and always available for fry-up brekkies and massive brain-storming sessions.
And . . . drum roll for dramatic effect . . . thanks to my wonderful friend, Pat Kinevane. If you ever decide to write a novel, Pat, you’ll put us all out of business!
Finally, to all the readers out there who have supported me from day one and who’ve sent such gorgeous, encouraging letters and messages; in these troubled times, I’m deeply humbled whenever anyone forks out their hard-earned cash to buy something I’ve written, so a very sincere and heartfelt thanks to you all.
I’m so blessed to have you and am praying you’ll enjoy this one too . . . xxxxxxxx
About the Author
CLAUDIA CARROLL is the author of Remind Me Again Why I Need a Man and I Never Fancied Him Anyway, which have been optioned for a Fox television series and a film, respectively. She lives in Dublin.
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Also by Claudia Carroll
HE LOVES ME NOT . . . HE LOVES ME
THE LAST OF THE GREAT ROMANTICS
REMIND ME AGAIN WHY I NEED A MAN
I NEVER FANCIED HIM ANYWAY
DO YOU WANT TO KNOW A SECRET?
Credit
Cover photograph © by Shutterstock
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
IF THIS IS PARADISE, I WANT MY MONEY BACK. Copyright © 2009 by Claudia Carroll. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
FIRST U.S. EDITION PUBLISHED 2011.
ISBN 978-0-06-204515-7
11 12 13 14 15 OV/RRD 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Epub Edition © OCTOBER 2011 ISBN: 9780062045164
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Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Also by Claudia Carroll
Credit
Copyright
About the Publisher
If This is Paradise, I Want My Money Back Page 33