The Book of Life begins in a garden. It ends with revelations.

Oscar Wilde

That afternoon, Julian feels bored and restless for the first time since he arrived, and Mary suggests he might like to get some fresh air. She gives him slippers, and a dressing gown to wear over his pyjamas, and he finds a bench to sit on in the lush green gardens surrounding the House of Healing. 

It's a sunny day, with a light breeze, and there are other new arrivals wandering about in their dressing gowns, smelling the flowers with delight, and even picking fruit from the trees to eat.

Julian is lost in contemplation of his possible futures, neither of which please him overmuch, when a voice suddenly says, "Hi. How're ya going over there?"

Julian turns his head. It is a thin boy with a pale face and a thick mop of dark blond hair. The boy Julian had seen in his moments between sleep and waking.

"Oh, hi," Julian says. He tells himself to stay cool, and not say, I already know you from my dreams, which is not something you want to say to someone you've just met. "Um, how are you getting on?"

"Amazing," the boy says with a wide smile. "I've felt so good since I got here. You know, I was quite poorly before I died."

The boy has brightly patterned red and blue pyjamas, the tracksuit sort that kids wear, covered with a white quilted dressing gown, and with pink and white bunny slippers on his feet. His pointed face is elfin enough for Julian to wonder if he is actually a child.

"Oh ... what did you die from?" Julian asks, unsure whether this question is an Afterlife faux pas.

"Liver disease," the boy replies, not seeming offended.

"You're a bit young to drink yourself to death," Julian says, with a slyly appraising grin.

"Cheeky! I wasn't allowed to drink any alcohol at all when I was ill," the boy protests. "Imagine, being at art college and not drinking."

"Sorry," Julian says meekly, internally rejoicing the boy had been old enough to drink, if not well enough.

"It runs in the family actually, the liver disease," the boy says, sitting down next to Julian on the bench, and nervously jiggling his knee. "My mum died from it too."

"Shit. I'm really sorry," Julian says, shocked by the boy's early loss.

"Don't be. I had a great second mum, and now I'm even closer to seeing Mum again," the boy says. "What did you die from, anyway?"

"Er ... drowning," Julian says. 

Maybe you can't lie in the Afterlife, but you don't need to tell all the truth either. Not straight away. He wishes he had a cigarette, and picks up a twig to fiddle with instead.

"Wow, like Brian Jones! That's so rock and roll," the boy exclaims, clearly impressed. "Were you on drugs when it happened?"

"Um, no. I'd had a bit to drink, though," Julian says. "It happened at uni."

Julian realises he's rubbing the twig between his fingers as if it's a stiffy, and immediately throws it away.

"I bet you're an absolute legend now," the boy guesses wildly. "My name's Noel, anyway."

"Nice to meet you, Noel," Julian says, and shakes his hand mock-formally. Noel scrunches his fingers around Julian's, and keeps holding his hand. Julian lets him. "I'm Julian."

"Hi, Joo'n," Noel says with a grin, shyly disappearing under his blond fringe.

Julian is charmed by Noel's pronunciation of his name, and the way he drops his blue eyes so that only his long dark eyelashes can be seen, to devastating effect. Julian doesn't know what to say, so he only smiles faintly, then looks away, fearful he's been staring at Noel without meaning to.

"I already know who you are, Joo'n," Noel confesses in a sudden rush. "I mean, I knew you from before. I went to your comedy gigs. They were brilliant, like nothing I'd ever seen."

"Nobody else thought so," Julian says drily. "I died onstage. I was heckled. My posters were defaced, people hated me so much."

"That's because you're a misunderstood genius," Noel says with satisfaction. "In twenty years time, you'll be famous. They'll all realise they were complete cockbrains and didn't get your humour because it was way over their heads."

"Really?" Julian asks sceptically, arching one eyebrow.

"Look, I hope you don't think I'm a celebrity stalker or anything," Noel begins.

"Celebrity?" questions Julian, his eyebrow working overtime.

"But I tried to talk to you after your last gig. I mean, it was so amazing, and it made me want to do comedy myself. I hung about waiting to see you, but they said you'd already left. I was bloody gutted, actually. I wanted to tell you how much I loved ... how much I loved watching you perform. And then later that night – early in the morning, really – I was taken ill and they called an ambulance. I remember thinking, I'll never get to meet him now, and then I died."

Julian is stunned into silence. He feels like an anguished ballet dancer who saws off his own legs in despair of his failed performance, only to receive rave reviews the next day. In other words, he feels like a prize idiot for hurling himself into the icy black waters of the lake. Not to mention, bloody typical his only fan died before they could tell him how they felt. How fucking typical.

"Oh. Thanks," he says at last. "It's a bit weird, isn't it, all this dying stuff?"

"Yeah, it's dead strange," Noel agrees readily. "It's good here, though, isn't it? My Healer, Joey, is absolutely spoiling me. I slept for about twenty hours my first day, and then I had cheese and bacon omelette and coffee for breakfast, and a spa bath, and Joey gave me a massage, and I had steak and chips and chocolate mousse for lunch today. I'm not usually that much into food, but I'd been on such a strict diet because I was ill, and now I can eat everything. I feel so strong and healthy. I'd sort of forgotten what that felt like."

"Wow, that's ... that's great," Julian says. His experience at the House of Healing is so different that he doesn't know what to say. He still feels tired and washed out, and his own lunch was a bowl of vegetable broth with a small bread roll.

"What's your Healer like?" Noel prods.

"Mary? She's nice," Julian says. "Very professional. I was told she's one of the best Healers."

"You must be really important, being given a genius Healer," Noel says enthusiastically. "Bet they said, Let's save Mary up for Joo'n, he's amazingly talented and has a brilliant mind, he deserves the best we have."

"Hey, do you feel like going for a walk?" Julian says.

Noel's face lights up. "A walk? Brilliant. I've got so much energy now, I can walk all day. I can walk like a camel who's drunk three espressos."

He slips off the bench with an eager expression, then pulls Julian to his feet. Despite Noel's bragging of his energy levels, to Julian's relief they only stroll along the garden paths together, Noel pointing out that the jasmine bushes look like a jungle, and telling Julian about the time he made a collage of Bryan Ferry in the jungle with monkeys and elephants.

"And in the collage, Bryan Ferry was my dad, and we had all these amazing adventures together. Everyone made fun of me, but then they ended up joining in. There were magazines and paste all over the floor, it looked like there'd been an explosion in the lounge, it was mental. Bryan Ferry's great, isn't he? He's so cool and suave. What music do you like?"

"Um, all sorts. I suppose I've got pretty eclectic tastes. You know my dad played loads of jazz when I was growing up, and Captain Beefheart records, yeah? And Frank Zappa ...."

"My parents were really young when they had me, so I grew up listening to classic rock from the '70s. Stones, Zeppelin, Mötorhead, Kiss ..."

"I was into heavy metal when I was a teenager," Julian says. "Just really wanted to play that perfect thrashing guitar riff ..."

"You play guitar? That's genius. My dad loves Captain Beefheart too ..."

"And I was into Gary Numan, went to all his concerts ..."

"Gary Numan? Yeah, he's cool. And Bowie? ..."

The conversation flows naturally from one subject to another, their sentences branching out from each other's, one piling on top of the other as quick as dealing out cards. Julian can't believe how easy it is talking to Noel – dizzying and disorienting, but easy, with no awkward pauses and sometimes, barely space to take a breath, gasping from laughter. Julian doesn't think he's ever laughed so much before.

Noel is so tactile as well, little casual touches against Julian that make him want to get closer and closer to Noel, until their hips are brushing as they walk. Finally, Noel takes his hand, in such a simple, open way that Julian slides their fingers together, and looks down at Noel with fondness, his lips twitching into a smile.

He knows that if Noel had snogged him at a party, he wouldn't have been scared. He wouldn't have backed away. Noel's lips are so red, and Julian thinks they are curving up at him in expectation, his eyes almost pleading. Julian leans in towards him ...

There is a discreet cough. Julian turns around, and sees Marcus discreetly standing a discreet distance away.

"Um, Noel? I've got to talk to someone. Won't be long."

He lopes over to Marcus on his long legs, cursing his usual rotten luck. "Uh, Marcus? Hello."

"Good afternoon, Julian," Marcus says, staring at Noel in something like consternation. "Er, that boy ...?"

"That's Noel," Julian says, unaware that his voice already has a proud and propriety tone to it. "He's in the House of Healing too. They're letting him leave tonight, though, he's doing so well."

"Oh, I see," says Marcus, still seeming troubled. "My apologies for interrupting, but I wanted to tell you that I have submitted all your documentation for the assessment, and will be keeping you updated at every stage."

"Thanks, Marcus," Julian says, unconsciously rubbing his foot against his ankle in his impatience to get back to Noel.

"I also wanted to let you know that your accommodation has been arranged for when you are released from your House of Healing," Marcus says. "You'll be staying in Room 33 at The Wayfarer's Arms, I hope you find it comfortable. I've written everything down for you so you won't forget."

"That's really nice of you, thanks," Julian says, taking the paper and carefully folding it into the pocket of his dressing gown.

"All part of the service," Marcus says. "I'll let you get back to your walk. It's nice to see you getting out and enjoying the sunshine. Nothing so healing, I always think."

"Was that your Case Worker?" Noel asks when Julian returns.

"Yeah, Marcus," Julian replies. "You met with yours yet?"

Noel nods. "She's called Jeannie and she's brilliant. She's two hundred years old, but she looks much younger. She's a right laugh. Marcus looks really serious."

"So what did your Case Worker say? I mean, about your assessment?"

"Jeannie's going to ask that I move Forward, but if that doesn't work, then Sideways, and hope for Forward a bit later. Jeannie says I can keep asking to be re-assessed until they agree I can go Forward, and she doesn't think I'd even be Sideways for very long. How about you?"

"Oh ... much the same," Julian said vaguely. "Marcus said I had a chance of going Sideways."

"No way, Joo'n," Noel said confidently. "I bet we go Forward. I want us to go Forward together."

"I'd like that too," Julian says, smiling nervously.

Note

Does the Oscar Wilde quote nag at anyone else's brain? Because the Bible doesn't actually begin in a garden. It begins in chaos and darkness, and ends in a fever dream of an impossible Heaven. A much better metaphor for Life, I think. Will this book follow that model? That remains to be seen.