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number of people who latch onto that idea.”
    â€œ
It’s a Wonderful Life
, that’s what it’s called,” Lizzie said, still clinging to hope.
    Jim shook his head again. “Sorry, Lizzie. I’m afraid that if you’re dead,you stay dead. There are no second chances.”
    â€œPlease,” Lizzie begged, her voice tiny.
    â€œIt’s not up to me,” Jim said.
    â€œAh, go on.”
    â€œHonest. It’s not up to me. The whole point is you had plenty of time while you were alive. People only come back from the dead in children’s fairy tales. Oh yes and the Bible, of course,” he added.
    Jan gave Jim an admiring look. He was so tough. Would she ever be as good as him? she wondered.
    Lizzie sat very still. She was furious at the thought of all her missed chances.
    â€œSo what happens now?” she spat. Her voice shook with rage and grief. “Do I go to Hell or what?”
    â€œOh, I wouldn’t have thought you’dbe going to Hell.” Jan looked into a file on the desk. “You haven’t led a bad life. Not entirely blameless either; I don’t think anyone will nominate you for the sainthood.”
    She paused to tinkle at her own wit while Lizzie gazed at her sourly.
    â€œAh, sorry. Just my little joke,” Jan said, humbly. “But you have worked here for a very long time. And you did go out with an estate agent for a while. Both of these will go on your account as a credit under the ‘Hell on Earth’ scheme.”
    She laughed again and Lizzie wanted to kill her. “Give me that!” She tried to grab the file.
    â€œI’m sorry, it’s none of your business.”
    â€œBut this is my
life
we’re talking about!”
    â€œNot any more, it’s not,” Jim said.“In fact, strictly speaking, it was never really your life to begin with. It was given to you on loan but could be recalled at any moment, without notice. As you found out to your cost.”
    â€œI see,” Lizzie said bitterly.
    â€œI was only kidding about Hell,” Jan smiled. “There’s no such place. By the way, in case you haven’t already noticed, there will be some unpleasant side effects as a result of your death.”
    â€œYeah like being dead!” Lizzie was in no mood.
    Jan stared at her with patient and gentle eyes. Then she continued, “You might experience nausea, feelings of doom, fear and loneliness,” before adding kindly, “a bit like a bad hangover.”
    Lizzie sat in sulky silence. Until, out of curiosity, she was forced to speak. “Look, what’s going to happen to me?”
    â€œYou’ll be fine. In a few days you’ll see.”
    â€œSo what am I supposed to do until then?”
    â€œWhatever you like. Watch a bit of telly. Visit yourself in the funeral home. Or you could attend your own funeral. Most people seem to get a kick out of that.”
    â€œWhen is it on?”
    â€œThe day after tomorrow. Ten o’clock. Don’t be late.”
    Lizzie realised something. All her life she’d been late for everything. People were forever telling her she’d be late for her own funeral. Well, this was her chance to prove them wrong.

CHAPTER NINE
    Lizzie went home. She could have stayed at work, but why should she? Especially now that they’d stopped paying her. She passed the rest of the day lying on the couch watching good crap on the telly.
Oprah
and
Countdown
and
Home and Away
.
    Spending a day like this was the kind of thing she’d longed to do when she was snowed under with work. But now that she had all eternity to do so, it didn’t hold the same appeal. She had to admit that it wasn’t much fun being dead.
    But it wasn’t all bad. On the plus side she found she didn’t need her bike to get around. She could simply appear anywhere she put her mind to. She could have gone as far away as Italy or India. She could even have popped up