‘Is that you? Edward?’
‘Martha!’
‘So it’s true! Praise the Lord! All true. Even the streets of gold!’
‘Purest gold.’
‘ “As it were transparent glass …” Revelation 21:21.’
‘My Bible girl! I’ve got you back.’
‘Hallelujah! It really is all true!’
‘Martha dear! Did you doubt it?’
‘Oh, Edward, I did. Yes, at the end I’m afraid I did, a bit. It was so horrible, I was so sick. Everything was so heavy and dark, the room spinning. I feel I’m waking up from a nightmare.’
‘Poor Martha. But how marvellous to see you again.’
‘Edward?’
‘Yes?’
‘I wish I could see you.’
‘Ah.’
‘I mean, how did you know it was me? I … There must be so many …’
‘You just sense it, dear. Then it was time for you to come. Who knows how these things work? You knew it was me, didn’t you?’
‘At once, yes. But without … without really seeing anything. I mean, much.’
‘We left our bodies on earth, dear. And mine’s been burned to bits, of course.’
‘I sprinkled you in the river.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘I sprinkled your ashes in the river, Edward.’
‘Did you? Did you really? How … Indian. I thought we’d agreed on a rose tree. In the North London Crem memorial garden.’
‘I changed my mind. I mean, it seemed more beautiful in the river, where we used to walk and you loved to row. Oh, Edward. It’s all true! It’s like Christmas. And I feel no pain. I was in such pain. It was killing me. Silly, it did kill me. Can we hug?’
‘Martha, love!’
‘Can’t we?’
‘You’ll have to get used to how it is here. See, people just drift through each other. We have no substance now.’
‘Through each other?’
‘By the gateway, look – there, with the sapphires. That group coming out.’
‘How peculiar. Just coloured air. A sort of brightness.’
‘If you like, we can occupy the same space. Let me. There! We’re one inside the other now. Superimposed. We’re absolutely together. Like we never were before.’
‘I can’t feel anything, though.’
‘We don’t have feeling, Martha. You think it. It’s a thought. We’re one inside the other. Enjoy that thought, in your mind.’
‘You were the thinker, Edward dear. Not me. It does seem a shame, though, after thirty years, not to hug.’
‘Everybody says that, at first. Then you get used to being all spirit.’
‘We can talk, though. Thank heavens for that.’
‘Actually, we intuit each other’s thoughts.’
‘Ah. You’re right. I knew something was odd. I’m not actually hearing you. Oh, Edward. What a huge relief to find you here and to know it’s true. There were moments … Oh dear. I haven’t quite got over it yet. Thomas was squeezing my hand, the last day, you know, while I was dying, and every squeeze told me he thought I’d soon just be dead. I’d be nothing. A lump of senseless flesh. That was what was upsetting him, bless him. But it didn’t help me with my faith.’
‘Thomas has done quite well for himself, hasn’t he?’
‘Oh, all right. I suppose. He has a good job. Seems he’s quite a whizz. But his marriage failed, you know, poor thing.’
‘Ah. And that was the very last wedding I celebrated. What a shame!’
‘And he won’t be coming to heaven either, will he, love, if it’s all true? We won’t ever see him again.’
‘No, dear, I’m afraid not. Nor Jim.’
‘But doesn’t it grieve you, Edward? Two sons. Both lost. Oh, it takes all the shine off it.’
‘I’ve got used to the thought now, Martha. What can you do? Jim was always such a cussed boy. He always had to have the last word.’
‘He didn’t come to see me at the end. I suppose it was a terribly long trip to make at short notice. Oh, Edward.’
‘What is it? Martha, what is it? What’s the matter?’
‘I want to cry and I can’t. The tears won’t come.’
‘No, dear.’
‘Don’t tell me we can’t cry.’
‘You need a body to cry, love.’
‘How silly. I spent half my life trying not to cry and now I can’t. Poor Jim. Poor Thomas. If only we could have proved to them all this existed.’
‘It is extraordinary, isn’t it? The walls of jasper. The gates of pearl. And it goes on for ever, you know. You can just keep breezing along for ever. And the light is always astonishing. Always the same. It’s the glory of the Lord. It never stops.’
‘ “And the foundations of the wall of the city were garnished with all manner of precious stones.” Revelation 21:19.’
‘Martha! How funny having you with me again. Nobody quotes the Bible here, though, you know. No one reads it.’
‘Oh, really? I thought we’d be reading Scripture all day long.’
‘There are no days! Or nights. No sleep and no waking. The fact is we just don’t need it now – do we? – once we’ve got here. There wouldn’t be any point. Actually, I’m not sure there are any bibles. Or any doctrine. I mean, I always thought when I got here I’d finally understand the Trinity and so on, except it just doesn’t seem to matter any more. Nobody discusses it. No one writes. No one reads at all. Martha! Please. Don’t be upset. You could hardly imagine what it would be like when you were back on earth, could you? Nobody could. Come on, now. Tell me which part of the river you sprinkled my ashes in.’
‘Kew Bridge.’
‘Ah. Kew. Looking towards Strand-on-the-Green? Or Brentford?’
‘Strand-on-the-Green, of course. The Steam Packet. Though there was a silly breeze blowing the wrong way. You kept coming back in my face in gritty bits.’
‘To think I’ve been telling people I was in North London Crem. I wonder what they’ll do with yours?’
‘My ashes are going in the vicarage garden. At Whitton. It’s a lovely place.’
‘You think! I thought I knew where mine were going. But no doubt Elaine will tell us in due course. Elaine will definitely join us. At least one child. Nothing could shake her faith. Then we’ll be a family again.’
‘It just won’t feel right without the boys, Edward.’
‘We did our best. What else could we have done?’
‘It’s true. We prayed and preached and wrestled with their hearts. The truth is, Satan had them in his grip.’
‘Satan.’
‘What is it, dear?’
‘I haven’t heard anyone mention him for ages. I suppose the struggle is far behind us here. One forgets.’
‘Edward! From the sound of your voice, if you had a face, you’d be smiling. Oh, I remember your dear face so clearly. What is it?’
‘I was thinking I almost missed him, Martha.’
‘Who? James?’
‘No, Satan. It was so exciting, wasn’t it? When we did the exorcisms. When the devils squealed and ran.’
‘Do be careful, love. Isn’t that sacrilege?’
‘It’s the truth. It was exciting.’
‘Yes. I suppose it was. I never thought of it like that. Oh, I can hear singing, Edward. “Great and marvellous are thy works, Lord God Almighty; just and true are thy ways, thou King of saints.” Where are they? Let’s join in. Let’s give thanks for being reunited. I want to see the Lamb of God.’
‘Those are angel voices, Martha.’
‘Oh, but they’re so beautiful. So perfect. I could listen to them for ever.’
‘You will. You will.’
‘Let’s go and join in. Edward? Come on.’
‘I’m afraid we can’t sing, love.’
‘Because we don’t have bodies.’
‘Right.’
‘But what do we do, then? Oh, I’m sorry, it’s just I’m feeling a bit lost.’
‘It’s hard to explain. We just, sort of, are, Martha. We go into a trance, of adoration of the Lord. We are one with Him, with this brilliant light and the glory all around us. It really is very beautiful, once you’ve settled in.’
‘ “Then shall the righteous shine forth as the sun in the kingdom of their Father.” Matthew 13:43.’
‘Right. Sort of. It’s like an endless beatitude. Time just flies. If it is time. Absorbed in the light. It’s only when someone from the past arrives that you’re disturbed a bit. For a little while.’
‘Disturbed?’
‘You start remembering things. Details. Then you colour the air, just a little bit. Stain it, I suppose. Otherwise we’re quite transparent. Oh, Martha! Don’t worry! The Lord has everything under control. Promise.’
‘You sound like Elaine now. She kept saying that while I was dying. Except it didn’t feel as if He had.’
‘Dear Elaine.’
‘Well, no doubt I shall get used to it. I suppose I’m just a bit miffed we can’t have a hug.’
‘Martha.’
‘Remember our Saturday morning lie-ins?’
‘I do, dear. I do.’
‘And the hot baths on winter afternoons? With tea and scones afterwards. They had quite nice scones in the hospice, come to think of it. Just I was too ill to enjoy more than a crumb or two. I presume we don’t eat here, then, Edward? There are no set times for anything. Or sleep?’
‘No. Martha, we don’t. But remember, we will get our bodies back one day.’
‘Of course. On Judgement Day.’
‘When the world ends and the dead rise from their graves.’
‘Or out of the river.’
‘Right. All those bits of ash from Hammersmith and Chelsea and Greenwich, and miles out to sea.’
‘Remember when we visited the Isle of Dogs?’
‘And Gravesend!’
‘Edward! You never could resist a pun, could you?’
‘So, you see, Martha, we do have something to look forward to.’