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‘Nancy, we need to go and see Mel to make sure he is prepared to go and meet the new arrival. He might still be sat outside his hut drinking pop and smoking spliffs,’ said Damien as he led the way back through the woods to the main village. He wasn’t scared of the pigs anymore and actually enjoyed giving them a fuss on the way through their field. One in particular with half an ear, which gave it an endearing appearance, liked to be stroked by him. Damien had named it ‘Mike’ for no apparent reason, other than it amused him to give an animal a human name.
It drizzled miserably as they approached the village, and they could hear that Mel was still playing loud music but now inside his hut. Damien held out an upturned hand, feeling the rain splashing on his palm. They quickened their pace and were soon at Mel’s hut. Nancy knocked on Mel’s door, and he opened it straight away. He stood to the side to allow the new island managers into his home. Nancy looked around the space and admired all the posters on the wall. ‘This reminds me of being a teenager, Mel. I like it.’
Mel smiled his infectious smile. ‘Thanks, Nancy. I guess that being forever dead means I might as well make my hut comfy.’ He cocked his head and twisted his lips as if in deep thought. ‘Any idea of when I’ll move on? Eloise would never tell me. I think she used to enjoy rubbing it in my face that she knew, but she also said it was in the rules that I couldn’t know.’
Damien smiled. ‘Yeah, a bit of a character that one. Sorry, but we don’t know. If we do find out, then we will tell you. This is mine and Nancy’s island now, so it is our rules that count. Anyway, we are here to brief you on the new person coming today. It was meant to be Hector meeting the next new person after Nancy, but that has obviously gone by the by.’
***
MEL STOOD JUST BEHIND the tree line, leaning on a huge oak, and kept an eye on the small meadow area that he knew would reveal the newcomer. The rain had stopped, for which Mel was thankful. It would be weird enough for the newcomer without rain too. Night had fallen, the moon was already full and bright, and a light breeze whispered across the cliff top, making the trees rustle.
Movement caught his eye, and he squinted his eyes to see that a woman had appeared out of thin air. She was petite, with her well-conditioned hair styled in a bob. Mel had been told beforehand that the new arrival was sixty years old, but she appeared more like fifty. He’d also been told that her name was Ange Dacombe. She didn’t look like a rebel, but Mel also knew that Ange had arrived on the island for the same reason as Damien. Newdon Museum had more than its fair share of people passing through the forbidden door.
I wonder why she came through that door? She must have people missing her back home.
Despite feeling sorry for her, Mel knew he was there to do a job. He was tempted to approach her but knew that wasn’t allowed; besides, the ugly scar around his neck would have scared the woman.
Ange stood, like Damien before her, in the middle of the meadow and looked around. She wore a bemused expression but didn’t appear to be scared about what had happened to her. Ange wandered to the edge of the cliffs. Even from a distance, Mel could see her beaming smile as she squealed with excitement, ‘Puffin!’ She danced around, waving her arms in the air like she was trying to take off.
Mel sighed. Trust me to get the eccentric one!
***
DAMIEN AND NANCY HAD indeed made things different from when the curator and Eloise were in charge of the island. When Ange arrived, Mel had already set up a weatherproof shelter for her with some bottled water and several packs of ration food. Ange relished the ‘camping’ and hadn’t even been upset when she found there was no way back to the museum in Newdon.
Mel had waited for Ange to wake and called ‘Hello’ from a safe distance. Surprisingly, she waved over to him with a beaming smile. Mel pulled his jacket collar up as far as he could, to obscure his cause of death. He wandered over to her, enjoying hearing the sea birds crying out. ‘Welcome, Ange, welcome to Lennon Island. I am sorry to tell you that you are dead, and this is the afterlife.’
To his amazement, Ange did a happy dance and waved her arms in the air. ‘I am in heaven! I knew that it would be so beautiful!’
Mel grinned. ‘Come with me. I am to take you to the village to meet the bosses.’
‘I am going to meet GOD! Oh my, I am so excited!’ squealed Ange as if she was going to pop with delight.
Mel couldn’t help bursting out in laughter. ‘Sorry, they are not God. All will be revealed...come on.’ He walked on the well-trod path, with Ange in hot pursuit.
Ange was out of breath following Mel, but the exhilaration of knowing that she was in the afterlife kept her moving at an impressive pace. When they stopped at the top of the hill overlooking the village, she said, ‘So that’s where spirits rest?’
Mel said, ‘Something like that. Do you like rave music?’
Ange looked at him in surprise. ‘Why, yes! Back in the 90s, I used to love going clubbing with glow sticks and all that jazz.’
Mel beamed; he had waited a long time to have a friend to blast music out with.
They dropped down the hill towards Damien and Nancy’s house, and Mel whispered to Ange, ‘This is the bosses’ hut. You are the first new arrival since they took over. Before they got promoted, the old boss used to make people live for several days back there at the bay area. They would even torture them by showing them portals, through which they would see people from their old lives. It drove some of them to despair.’
Ange didn’t appear to take in any of the later details Mel had shared. ‘Oh, how exciting! I get to meet the newest boss first. Is he dishy?’
She doesn’t know how lucky she is that she doesn’t have to go hunting or look for her own firewood. Laughing, Mel said, ‘Well, I don’t know about Damien, but his wife, Nancy, is a nice bit of eye candy.’ He winked at Ange to show her that he wasn’t being too serious.
Without hesitation, Mel knocked on the Lennons’ door. Nancy opened it and smiled with kindness at Ange, knowing full well what it was like to die before it was time and find yourself on somewhere like their island. Only, on top of that, this poor woman didn’t have anyone here that she knew.
‘Come in, Ange, please, and welcome to Lennon Island. I am Nancy Lennon. We have a lot to talk about. Mel, thank you for your help.’
‘No worries, boss. Let me know if I can help the next person,’ Mel said, re-affixing his sunglasses to his face and putting his spliff between his lips with a smirk. He wandered away towards his own hut, where his music and snacks would no doubt be waiting for him.
Ange entered the hut and admired the furniture. ‘Ooh, this is nice! Must have cost you a fortune! Any chance of a cup of tea, please? I’m parched.’
Nancy nodded over to Damien. ‘This is Damien, my hubby, he’ll be glad to make you a drink, won’t you, dear?’
Damien didn’t need to be told twice. It is a shame that Hector isn’t here to take care of tea service. Proving to be the well-trained house husband, he soon returned from the kitchen with a drink for all three.
Nancy sat forward on the edge of the sofa and looked at the woman in front of her. She said, ‘I don’t know what Mel has already told you about why you are here. First, do you know that your earthly journey as yourself is over and that you are dead?’
Ange smiled and said, ‘Have you got any custard cream biscuits? The nice man said something like that but I didn’t take it in. Am I dreaming or is this really the afterlife?’
Nancy felt herself warming to Ange. ‘Yes, I am sorry to say that this is the afterlife. You are dead before you were meant to be, so you have to stay on this island until the time comes when you were supposed to die, and then your soul moves on to wherever you are destined to go.’
‘Can I request to be a famous actress, please?’ Ange said, wide eyed, and then she looked back at Damien. ‘Biscuits?’ Damien smiled and went to the kitchen to search the cupboards.
Nancy shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, that decision is above my pay grade. You seem nice enough though, so I guess you’ll be reincarnated or sent to heaven.’
Ange couldn’t contain her glee and did a happy dance around the lounge. Sitting back down, a puzzled look clouded her joyous face. ‘Nancy, where am I going to stay? That man Mel seems fun, is everyone like that?’
Damien handed Ange some biscuits and replied, ‘You have your own hut. It only has basic furnishings, but it’s comfortable enough. If you have any special requests for furniture et cetera, just let me and Nancy know, okay? Mel is an exception to the rule. Most of the others are just waiting for their time to pass before they die. There were some other folks who were fun, but they have moved away to run their own limbo islands. Please feel free to go wherever you want on the island, except for the area that has signs saying ‘forbidden zone’.’
Ange knitted her eyebrows together. ‘I won’t. I don’t want a fate worse than death! I am tired now. Can you show me to my room please?’
Nancy stood. ‘I’m not surprised you are exhausted. Come on, let me show you to your place.’
Nancy took Ange over her to her new home, the one that used to be Hector’s place, and it surprised Ange that it wasn’t just a mud hut. Nancy had made sure that she brought some supplies for the new arrival to make herself comfortable.
After making sure Ange was settled, Nancy said goodnight and went back to Damien.
She noticed some dirt on a windowsill and muttered under her breath, ‘Must get that sorted out tomorrow.’ With a frown, she realised something wasn’t quite right. Why is the door ajar? Who’s that talking to Damien? Nancy tiptoed closer and strained to hear. There is only Mel and Ange who show any interest in living, so to speak...
She instantly recognised Damien’s voice as the deeper of the two. The other voice was higher in pitch but fervent and authoritative. It didn’t sound positive. Why am I sneaking about? I am the boss around here...
Nancy pushed the door open and walked in with as much confidence as she could muster. The curator sat on Nancy’s favourite chair. Her face said it all; she was furious about something.
The curator said, ‘Ah, here’s the other let-down. I let you take over this island and expected you to rule using my rules. You should keep the residents under strict control. Make them somewhat afraid of you and there will be no problems. I have used the rule about how new arrivals should be treated for over a hundred years, and I have never, ever allowed someone to join the village so quickly! What are you playing at?’
Nancy remained standing in the doorway, with her arms crossed and her eyes blazing. ‘We are in control now! This island belongs to Damien and me. Our Island. Our rules. If you don’t like it then don’t come here. People have just died when they arrive here; it is all weird and strange to them. They deserve to be treated properly.’
The curator stood and positioned herself eyeball to eyeball with Nancy. She hissed through gritted teeth, ‘Remember that I am your boss. This isn’t the last you will hear about this, Lennon.’ Muttering something under her breath, she left the hut and slammed the door behind her. The building shook a little, and Damien’s favourite picture fell off the wall, sending shattered glass all across the floor.
Nancy sighed. ‘I see that she is still a power freak. Let’s get this terrible mess cleaned up. Tomorrow, I am going to try and contact Rodney to ask him to have a word with the curator. He needs to tell her that this is our island now, not hers!’
‘Good luck with that, darling,’ Damien said, his voice telling Nancy that he didn’t hold out much hope for that particular conversation ever happening.
‘This is just the start of our management position. We don’t want to be pushed around already. I had enough of people telling me what to do when we were alive. Come on, Damien, stand up for yourself.’
Damien went to the kitchen and returned with a dustpan and brush. He looked at the mess and sighed. ‘Why can’t things just be straightforward? The afterlife is even more complicated than life itself.’
‘Yes, which is why we need to put our foot down. We can make this place so much better and positive for everyone. If we give the islanders a purpose, then maybe we can help them come out of their shells.’ She stood by the window and looked out towards the collection of basic huts, thinking but not looking at anything in particular. A bright coloured bird caught her eye, hopping around as it looked for a worm. She watched it for another minute or so, feeling the stress lessening by the second.
Damien watched it too. ‘I have never seen a bird like that before. There must be lots of different species here, but I’ve always been too busy to notice. By the way, I think we should contact Hector and Maxine to see if the curator has been over to their place to try and throw her weight around there too.’
Nancy nodded her agreement. ‘We can’t let her divide and conquer us. Let’s get a good night sleep and then start tomorrow fresh.’
Damien sat and put his feet up on the sofa. ‘This is the start of something fresh. Let’s not get overwhelmed by it. Plus, I think Rodney will help us.’