X - The Big Leap

It was after his third successive failed suicide attempt that Joseph
truly began to believe he was immortal. His first two bungled attempts
had led to little more than a crazy week-long hangover and a horrible
mess all over the living room floor, but Joseph just thought he'd been
a bit unlucky, left too much to chance and that sort of thing. But this
time had been constructed to make it impossible for anything to go
wrong. This had been the big one. Time for him to bow out from the
stage of life once and for all.

And so Joseph had hurled himself head-first out of the seventeenth
storey window of the flat he had been renting exactly for this purpose.
He had felt himself hurtling down and down, storey after storey,
straight towards the assortment of jagged objects he had positioned at
the spot where he would land. His life hadn't even bothered to flash
before his eyes after the last two incidents, which had made him more
depressed than ever. Yet Joseph had landed with a mighty thump on the
concrete below with little more to show for his effort than a nosebleed
caused by the speed of falling from the height he had started
from.

He had lain there for quite some time afterwards, his eyes closed, not
really feeling any pain, just hoping against hope that when he opened
his eyes he wouldn't really see the cat he could feel licking his ear.
Of course, when he did, there it was, a surprisingly affectionate
little cat that he disliked all the more for it. Why was this happening
to him? He had heard of various failed suicide attempts in the paper
and on the news. Depressed students or neurotic loners who telephoned a
friend/lover/policeman just before taking a bottle of pills so that
they would be saved just in time from their imminent death and would be
dealt a greater share of affection than ever before after their
harrowing ordeal.

When Joseph had downed pills (and he had amassed enough to start a
small pharmaceutical firm by this time), he had drunk half an
off-licence to go with them. And yet, he had woken up, three days
later, with the aforementioned hangover from hell. He checked the
pills, but they were packed with paracetamol. He looked for the labels
on the bottles of whisky, but not one of them was below forty percent
alcohol. What had happened? How could he be so unlucky as to not be
able to end the life he had grown truly bored of and wanted to start
again as someone else?

For Joseph Piper wasn't totally against life, just against his own.
From the day he was born, he was destined to lead a dull and
uninteresting life. He excelled in maths at school, was compelled with
numbers so much that he even wrote the ones down he saw on numerous
passing trains. After a rather dull student life living on his own, he
became an accountant for a large firm and watched one soap opera after
another when he returned home just to try and inject a little something
extra into his existence. Alas, it was all to no avail.

However, Joseph believed very strongly in reincarnation. It was against
every normal bone in his body to do so, but if anyone needed a bit of
spice in the form of variety, it was Joseph, and reincarnation went
against everything he should have believed in and so he chose to
believe in it all the more.

His first try came about after arriving home one night after yet
another long day at the office where he spoke to no-one and tried in
vain to ignore the hidden whispers and smans behind his back from
people who were also unaccountably dull, yet compared to him were very
much the in crowd. No-one had spoken to him or looked at him or walked
within ten feet of him at the office and then back at his flat, hoping
for a bit of company from his cat that he well knew had deserted him
three weeks earlier (he still left the food bowl out every night to
entice him back even though he often saw him wandering into someone
else's flat, all the while looking at Joseph with an expression that
could only be scorn) he had decided he wanted out of his body and into
someone else's, something else's if need be, just as long as it was
no-one like him.

But no matter how hard he tried, he still couldn't do it. The second
attempt had involved the slashing of his own wrists, something Joseph
found abominable, but what could he do? It had started well enough, he
had evidently hit a good spot as blood flew out of him as from a hose.
So he sat there, waiting for the tiredness, the dizziness, the
darkening slumber that would lead him to new light and a new existence.
But it hadn't happened. He ended up nigh on redecorating his flat red,
but no easy sleep came. All that happened was that after an hour or so
the blood flow began to slow down somewhat and eventually trickled into
nothingness. This had worried him intensely, scared him even. What sort
of a person was he that could bleed like that for so long and yet not
die?

He checked the wounds on his wrists, they looked deep enough, the blood
had looked real enough and yet he hadn't even felt the slightest bit of
discomfort as his life fluid jetted from his body all over his once
cream and pastel coloured wallpaper. He had no idea what else to do. He
gave ducking his head in the bath water a try, but even he didn't count
that as a real suicide attempt as he was still there twenty minutes
later, submerged in his radox salts and not feeling it necessary to
breathe at all.

This recent failure was the last straw though. Joseph sat at the bottom
of the flat block and thought long and hard about what was happening to
him. There was no other explanation for it, surely, than that it was
impossible for him to die. He was incapable of death and was therefore
immortal. He stood up quickly and went home for some tea.

Whilst waiting for the kettle to boil, he tried putting his arm over
the gas flame on the stove. It hurt slightly at first, but after a few
seconds the pain began to subside and he could stand there quite
comfortably without feeling the heat from the fire. Sure enough, when
he removed his arm from the stove there were no visible marks or
evidence that anything untoward had happened to his arm at all.

He spent the entire night like that, repeatedly hitting himself with
brass candlesticks, putting his head in the stove for half an hour on
gas mark six and after all the excitement, he went to bed for once
feeling quite pleased with his life. He was immortal and therefore
could do whatever he wanted. He no longer needed to be bound by the
accountancy profession anymore nor look at another column of figures.
He was going to be the biggest sensation the world had ever seen.

In the morning he awoke and contacted a theatrical agent, who was so
astounded by Joseph's talent he had a heart attack. So Joseph went to
the next biggest agent on his list, a slightly younger one this time,
and after warning him what he was about to see had already caused the
untimely death of another person (Joseph no longer cared about the
irony involved with that incident), he performed his act in front of
the new agent, who fortunately survived and signed Joseph onto his
books like a shot.

At this memory, Joseph smiled, making the leader of the film crew
sitting there with him even more nervous than he already was. Arthur
Farmer was not a man who generally smiled, especially not when he was
sitting in the back of a plane that was climbing higher and higher when
he knew at some point he would have to jump out of the small door to
his right which he eyed pensively from time to time.

He especially did not feel like smiling when he was sitting in the back
of a plane with a man who, although admirable in his television
appearances and general talent for doing particularly dangerous things
without dying and who his wife gushed over whenever his face or one of
his acts was about to appear (something that happened unbelievably
frequently on TV these days - Arthur wondered just when this Joseph
Piper phenomenon was going to end), was, to his mind, far too odd a
person to want to sit particularly near to at any time, never mind at
this time when he knew that very soon they would all be leaping out of
the plane together for Joseph's biggest leap yet. He was a cameraman, a
TV-guy, every now and then film-guy, who did not relish the prospect of
jumping out of a plane with a person whom it definitely couldn't hurt.
It could hurt Arthur if anything went wrong and he wasn't happy about
that idea at all.

Joseph would be alright, he was certain of that. Arthur had seen him on
countless variety performances jumping from bungee platforms without
the bungee, doing the old circus act of jumping into a massive
container of water from a high-dive, although Joseph did it without the
water of course. And every time, when the jump was over, a jump that
invariably had him landing face first, Joseph would just stand up,
shake his head and theatrically take some paracetamol (the brand name
of which eluded Arthur now and he smiled at how much the company
probably paid Joseph and he, Arthur, the man in the street, couldn't
for the life of him remember what they were called) and then walk off
to rapturous applause.

There were the countless TV appearances on chat shows and celebrity
game shows and he knew for a fact that Joseph had a very good side line
going as a stunt man, hunted by almost every director in the world as
it saved all the time, effort and money usually necessary to rig up
safety measures in these films. Now all they had to do was hire Joseph
and hey presto, the safety measures weren't needed anymore.

Arthur had filmed Joseph before when doing the famous Eiffel Tower jump
scene from the acclaimed feature film Human Lemmings, but that didn't
mean he felt any warmer towards to him. In fact, Arthur felt especially
frosty towards Joseph now he, himself, Arthur Farmer, had to jump out
of a plane directly behind Joseph to get the dynamic shots the absurdly
young director for this charity jump, Joseph's Big Leap, wanted. So
what if it would be the last jump Joseph would be able to perform for
such a function before his lucrative contract with a demolition and
bomb disposal firm began? It didn't make Arthur's life any better. All
the worse as far as he could see it.

Joseph on the other hand was feeling that life didn't get much better
than this. He knew how clich?d he sounded when he reiterated time and
time again to chat show host after chat show host that his life had
only begun after he had tried to take it away. Joseph had originally
thought he could probably do quite a bit of work for the Church, but
they didn't want anything to do with him, whether his name had
religious connotations or not, and especially not after the recent
freak outbreak in suicides with people landing on their heads all over
the place.

This had been a worry to Joseph, so much so that every performance he
now did he insisted appeared after the television watershed and with
the accompanying message for no-one to try his stunts at home repeated
at least three times. He had wondered about the religious undertones of
his talent, but not for long, he didn't feel as though he was a blessed
holy character or anything. He was just someone who had come rising up
from the abyss of unhappiness just in time to realise what life was all
about. The cynics said it certainly wasn't about pretending to kill
yourself constantly and what if one time it went wrong, but he just
waved these suggestions away in the condescending manner he had begun
to adopt, saying he didn't profess to understand it or even for people
to like it, all he knew was it was what was right for him and it did a
lot of good for a great many people.

This part was certainly true. This, Joseph's last properly televised
jump for anything other than his new company was indeed The Big One.
14,000 feet straight down without so much as a twinge at the bottom.
The usual shake of the head, a couple of dissolvable tablets (part of
the pain-killer firm's new line) and a salute to the crowd before a
massive charity auction of his death-defying outfits, ending with a
charity dinner after which he would finally bow out of the public forum
and into the even bigger money of the private firms.

He was doing a good thing with this jump, and would raise a lot of
money for charity by doing it. Some firms had sponsored him by the foot
fallen, although he had to admit many such firms had been shocked and
subsequently tested how legally bound they were to paying out when they
found out just how many feet he would be actually be falling.

No matter, the money was there, and there was great anticipation as to
how much his outfits and other memorabilia would go for. The knife he
so famously started his career in suicidal acts was up for grabs as was
the white boiler suit complete with tire tracks when he had been walked
and wheeled over by the entire fifth battalion infantry and their
vehicles at another charity do some time ago. He had raised a fortune
that day, but even that would not compare with today's takings. Joseph
was glad that from all the money he had made before and was about to
make in the future, quite a hefty share of that would be going to good
causes instead of his usual outlet of women and drink.

They were approaching 14,000 feet now and Arthur Farmer was becoming
more anxious by the inch. He had begun to sweat even though the
temperature in the plane was close to freezing. He couldn't believe
that any minute now he was going to be jumping out of a plane. He
couldn't shake off the thoughts of his parachute not opening and the
helpless falling feeling he'd had in nightmares since a child, where
you had absolutely no control over events, couldn't stop the ground
getting ever nearer, and then finally, crunch. It made his stomach do
somersaults even thinking about it.

Arthur was snapped out of his own private nightmare by Johnny Fay, the
presenter on today's Live Dive and someone who Arthur would be very
happy to film if his parachute didn't open. Fay looked at Arthur
miserably, as he had done throughout the flight, and nudged him into
movement.

"Come on cameraman," he barked over the noise of the aircraft's engine,
"We'd better get set up before everything goes ahead."

Arthur didn't want to talk to this man and therefore gave him no reply.
He nudged the lad next to him, the other cameraman, or at least, camera
boy, who was on a fast track up the corporate ladder helped by his
station-owning father and wasn't really interested in the event at all.
Stu just wanted to jump out of a plane anyway and so had made sure his
place had been booked by daddy. He gave Arthur the same disinterested
and disgusted look Fay had done. Arthur quelled the primeval desire in
him to throw them out immediately, and began to feel a headache coming
on.

"Are we ready Joseph?" Fay said to Joseph, getting somewhat nearer to
his TV voice than he had done for all the time before that moment.
Joseph nodded back, smiling, but Fay was already looking in another
direction.

"Now don't forget cameraman, this is a live broadcast and if I spot you
aren't getting the best angle you can all the time, I'll have you fired
the second we touch ground," said Fay.

Arthur felt the best angle for his camera was stuck backwards up Fay's
most used orifice, and it wasn't any of those on his head. He held his
anger inside for a second or two, just long enough for his violent
visions to subside a little and then gave Johnny Fay his countdown to
going on camera.

"Good afternoon everyone and welcome to this live broadcast. Yes, today
is The Live Dive, and, once again, all attention is focused on Joseph
Piper, ready to hurl himself out of a plane from 14,000 feet just for
charity," Fay was flashing his teeth as he so often did at the camera
and Arthur felt he'd like to knock each one back where the sun had no
chance of shining.

"Unless you've been on Mars, everyone knows about Joseph's meteoric
rise to fame because of his absolute lack of ability to die. Some call
him immortal, but I won't do that after the complaints we've received
from the Church. Whatever you like to call it, there's no doubt it sure
is one hell of a gift to have. Today we're going to see Joseph's most
amazing stunt yet. It's more incredible than when he faced a firing
squad of tanks, more terrifying than his slow stroll through a sea of
whirling chainsaws and even more shocking than his death-defying
swimming-pool tousle with assorted sharks and crocodiles, when the
carnivorous creatures eventually gave up on Joseph and starting eating
each other. That was nasty," Fay stopped for a moment as though
revelling in exactly how nasty it had been.

"But today we have an altogether more family orientated spectacle as
Joseph, along with myself and a film crew hurl ourselves out of a plane
from 14,000 feet, but - and this is the incredible part - Joseph will
not be wearing a parachute! You'll get all the action exclusively live,
from the film crew up here and the film crew on the ground for this,
The Big Leap!"

"Right, we're gone again," said Arthur and Stu dropped the camera from
his shoulder with a groan of disapproval. Johnny Fay slumped back into
his seat as his TV face slipped away from him again.

"Alright everyone," said the final occupant in the rear of the plane,
the safety man, "Let's see your packs for final checks."

He initially went over to Joseph unconsciously, but Joseph just smiled
at him and he realised his mistake and went on to check that everyone
who actually needed a parachute was all kitted out properly and ready
for the jump.

The plane's co-pilot looked back from the cockpit to give a thumbs up
signal and Arthur Farmer felt as though his entire body had just been
hollowed out. The instructor opened the door next to Joseph swiftly and
looked away from the blast of even colder air that instantly swept into
the cabin.

"Couldn't have picked a better day for it," said the instructor
enthusiastically.

Arthur groaned aloud at the thought that this man did this sort of
thing for a living, actively enjoyed it even. He wished he could equip
the instructor with a camera and the earpiece he had grown accustomed
to ignoring even when the multitude of directors and producers were
screaming orders at him. Their voices were all united at this point.
The ground crew were ready, back to Johnny Fay for the last word.

"And here we are ladies and gentleman," smarmed Fay over the noise of
the aircraft and the whistling gale blowing outside. "The moment of
truth. Anything to say Joseph?" Fay said, thrusting an oversized
microphone under Joseph's nose.

"I'd just like to say that I'm really proud I can make a difference in
people's lives with this jump, make them better in many ways. I'd also
like to thank whoever or whatever it was that gave me this talent that
can bring so much happiness to so many people. And finally - don't try
this at home kids, or anyone else for that matter, jumping out of
planes without a parachute is a tremendously dangerous thing to do.
I've done this sort of thing before and can do it safe in the knowledge
that everything will be alright for me, but it's not something I would
encourage people to try out for themselves," said Joseph.

"Yes, wise words there everyone - whatever you do, don't try this at
home. Remember that Joseph here, is after all a professional, and as
far as I'm concerned, definitely immortal and not in any danger
whatsoever," Fay's grin increased after making what he knew would be a
controversial remark.

He suddenly adopted a serious face, "To anyone else, this sort of jump
could result in serious injury or death," he said. The bright white
smile returned, "And now, back to the ground crew."

The ground crew stood huddled in their overcoats and hats as it was a
very chilly day indeed, even though the sky was so clear. The first
time director wasn't sure this was quality family viewing at all, but
money was money, events were events, and besides, an exclusive film
such as this would help his career no end. If the viewers wanted to
watch this man jump from a plane without a parachute and walk away
unhurt, then that's what they got.

And they did want it, the massive marketing fraternity at the
television network had done extensive research on it and assured the
producers the viewers would turn on in their millions. The marketing
team were now in the refreshments tent toasting their success, happy in
the knowledge that no-one had realised their research had actually only
involved walking down a city high street and asking six people if they
would watch the show, two of whom had ignored them entirely, before
they had decided to go to the pub instead to drink away the expense
account they had been afforded.

Research had not been needed in this case anyway, everyone knew Joseph
was the biggest thing on TV this Summer and they could cash in on his
face and antics for at least another few weeks yet. Knowing this would
be his last public death-defying stunt, and that massive viewing
figures were therefore pretty much confirmed, assured them that their
time drinking had not been ill spent.

The plane could be heard rather than seen circling far, far above the
massive crowd that had turned up to stand in the field near the
official landing spot, a car-park bedecked with a large red landing
cross Joseph was to aim for. Vol-u-vents and Styrofoam cups of fizzy
brown water marauding as alcohol were ignored as all eyes remained
fixed directly above, scanning the sky for some action.

It was not long in coming. The announcement came over the loudspeakers
from the ground level reporter that all the jumpers were now out of the
plane and hurtling towards their destination, the rather muddy field
below. The director scanned his screens avidly, switching between
ground shots and aerial shots with as much finesse as he could muster.
The sky was the thing at the moment though, Johnny Fay was on top
form.

"Here I am folks, free falling quite rapidly now," Fay was saying. The
shock when first jumping out of the plane was past him now and since
his breathing pattern had returned, he was lapping the attention up as
Stu filmed him, whilst Arthur kept his camera trained on Joseph.

"As you can see this is the experience of a lifetime, and Joseph Piper
is loving every minute of it," he continued as the director changed
shots to show Joseph's smiling face.

Joseph was indeed loving every minute of it. He was thinking back to
the time he had jumped from his seventeenth storey flat and landed on
his head unhurt. He was thinking how much he was going to celebrate his
public retirement tonight with Wendy and Denise, the two rather
scantily dressed faces of the pain killer firm that sponsored him.
Joseph was grinning as he marvelled at how far his life had come from
his accountancy days.

He loved his present incarnation as dare devil stunt man, charity
worker and soon to be hero bomb disposal expert, which involved money,
drink, girls and fame as opposed to other people's money, column after
column of mind-numbing figures and the extraordinarily dull world of
finance. It felt tremendous to be alive.

Filming Joseph's beaming face, Arthur Farmer felt quite sick, even
though his opinions on life and keeping his particular one going were
certainly comparable to Joseph's. In fact they were a great deal
stronger in many ways - Arthur's continual anxiety that things were
going to go wrong and his parachute wouldn't open at the chosen moment
displayed to him his very real desire to keep shuffling along his own
mortal coil.

Although the idea frightened him, he was desperate for the moment the
signal would be given for him to pull his parachute cord. When he and
the others were swept back up into the air by their ballooning
parachutes, they would continue filming Joseph in tandem with the
ground crew. The aerial shots would be amazing as Joseph plummeted away
from them.

Ultimately the view would switch to that from the ground crew as Joseph
came nearer and nearer to his final destination, all the while with
Fay's commentary booming out over the loudspeakers below. Fay was
already imagining what it would do for his popularity to go over to
Joseph and hug him in a life affirming manner when the event was
over.

Arthur heard a barking noise in his ear from the instructor above that
it was time for the parachutes to be opened. He yanked at his cord
immediately. Nothing happened. This worried Arthur terribly. More than
that - this was his worst nightmare coming true. He tried again. Again
nothing happened. He yanked and yanked and yanked, pure terror
beginning to sweep through him until he looked down and saw he was
pulling the cord on his jacket rather than the one on the
parachute.

He switched his hands and relief swept over him as he was catapulted
into the air, the material of the parachute spreading majestically
above him and he now began to film Joseph falling away from him with
the sort of verve he wished he could have felt earlier. Arthur was
going to live after all, and was going to do everything he could to get
the best angles and the best filmed material he'd ever shot.

He looked to his left to see Stu was also gliding downwards about
fifteen feet away from him, before he became aware that there were two
people in his viewfinder, and realised Fay had not opened his
parachute.

Johnny Fay had been thinking about things. Mulling life events over in
his mind, you could say. Falling as he was, now unbelievably fast,
towards the expectant crowd below, he had realised his life wasn't all
it was cracked up to be. He wasn't a happy man in many respects.

There was nothing specific he could put his finger on, he just didn't
feel, fulfilled. And after he had looked around him when they had been
falling initially, Johnny saw what it was that had been missing. The
smile on Joseph's face. Joseph had found a true vocation. A rather
absurd and somewhat freakish vocation admittedly, but a vocation all
the same. Something he could do where he did feel fulfilled, an area in
which he excelled and something people admired him for.

It all added up to make Johnny Fay feel even smaller than he already
did. Deep down he was horribly aware that most of the admiration he
endured came from himself. He thought about what would happen when he
landed, the big hug with Joseph he had envisioned, the rapturous
applause he foresaw, all the while with the knowledge that none of it
would be for him.

Nothing he could do would ever be big enough. He was just yet another
person jumping from a plane, safe in the knowledge his life would be
preserved by the material folded up in the specialised bag on his back.
He became even more explicably aware of his expendability - the main
reason he shouted and strutted so confidently and ordered people around
so much.

He knew how transient his fame was, how he would be pushed out of the
limelight sooner or later for a newer, fresher face. He had never been
the star of any of his shows and never would be, he was simply a foil
for other celebrities to use and work against. And so he had realised
what he must do to immortalise himself.

Fall splat bang dead in the middle of the crowd below, become a martyr
who lived and died for the cause of reporting. The man who was trying
to do the job he loved when his parachute failed to open on the tragic
Big Leap with Joseph Piper.

He would never be forgotten, and would eclipse Joseph as the star
attraction of the day. Joseph would receive no accolades, no
celebratory aftermath. Johnny Fay would be the centre of the tragedy,
the talk of the town - of the whole country - for years to come. And he
was hamming it up admirably.

"Here I am, Johnny Fay," his voice rang out across the clearing amid
the gasps and consternations of those gathered to watch the
spectacle.

They could see the two figures falling, still too far away for the
cameras to pick out accurately, but Fay's voice came ominously through
the loudspeakers as he gave his final broadcast. Tears ran down the
faces of the women gathered there as his brave, unbreaking, thoroughly
professional final words reached them all.

Joseph was forgotten at this moment, his plight was secured, he would
survive, but what about poor, tragic Johnny Fay, surely about to be
killed in the line of duty, trying his best to bring this spectacle to
the world?

"I've tried pulling my parachute cord and it has broken off. My reserve
cord has proved of no use at all. And so I now know my fate. But I ask
people not to feel sad or distressed about my imminent death, but to
look to my life. Know all of you, that I will die as I have lived. For
my work. To bring the news and the breaking events of the moment, to
you. To all of you. The lovely, wonderful, viewing public."

At this the microphone finally went dead and cries of anguish rang out
among the crowd. Many people wandered around, trying to think of
possible ways to avert this tragedy. The paramedics on hand tried to
remain calm. Fay's timing, as always, was impeccable. Just as his final
words had died away, the two falling men came into the cameras' range.
Not one of them focused on Joseph.

All eyes were on Johnny Fay now as he plummeted to his death, doing
what he had always done, showing true dignity to the last. All around,
the crowd below him and those watching on television around the globe,
noticed and admired how he did not look afraid or upset, but retained
his poise right up until the final moment. A true professional. And
they loved him for it.

Husbands and wives held each other as they shook uncontrollably, those
previously without partners found solace in one another and clasped
hands. Not one person's eyes ever moved from the falling men, both now
destined to land in distinctly separate areas. Joseph was going to hit
the target cross after all, but Johnny was heading straight for the
middle of the crowd.

The director's mouth hadn't closed since the beginning of Fay's final
broadcast, and he hadn't managed to utter a word since, the lump in his
throat was too large. The ground-based reporter dared not speak in case
he ruined Fay's beautiful last words. He couldn't think of anything to
say anyway.

Joseph hit the ground first, about forty metres away from where the
crowd was gathered, but no-one was looking by this point. All eyes were
cast directly up at Fay's falling body. It looked like a rag puppet as
it was buffed and bundled around in all sorts of crazy shapes and forms
as he hurtled towards the cold, wet grass. The only moment anyone
looked away, and there weren't many when they did, was when the final,
near deafening thump sounded around the clearing, so loud and distinct
that it provoked further cries of anguish from the crowd.

The awaiting ambulance crew rushed over to the spot where Johnny Fay's
feet protruded from the ground, the remainder of his body absurdly
submerged in the mud. They lifted him out quickly and the crowd rushed
to see what was happening, desperate to be there the moment the final
tribute could be paid to such a brave man.

The crowd was hundreds deep now and hardly anyone could see what was
actually happening in the centre of the circle. And then, the
unbelievable words were spoken.

"He's alive!" cried a paramedic, causing the crowd to go into
hysterics.

Johnny Fay had survived a 14,000 feet fall from an aeroplane without a
parachute. Loud cheers rang out from all parts of the gathering, and
immediately the word rushed around that Johnny Fay was immortal too.
Fay opened his eyes for a moment, not really wanting to, to see if
there really were all the people around him he could hear and two
paramedics checking his pulse and limbs for breakages.

He slowly opened one eye at a time and, seeing it was all true, was
unable to prevent the groan of despondency from deep inside his throat.
The gathered crowd, the paramedics, everyone was there, even the pain
killer firm with their two female mascots in skimpy outfits braving the
cold.

Fay couldn't believe it, but, ever the showman, slowly stood up, shook
his head, took two tablets from the hand of the nearest paracetamol
girl and swallowed them with a glass of water. Then he kissed the girl
nearest to him passionately and the cheers and tears didn't subside for
fully ten minutes while Johnny Fay shook as many hands as he
could.

Arthur Farmer came in to land at last. He decided he could get used to
this parachuting lark. He had heard Fay's last broadcast and would
probably have been quite touched with his final words himself if he
didn't know what a bastard he had been. Then he saw the crowd whooping
and wailing in the distance and caught a glimpse of Fay in the middle
of it all, groping a rather leggy model.

Arthur didn't even feel any hatred for the man anymore. He didn't
really feel anything for him. He was just rather happy that he had
managed to get down safely and had had such a nice view of the
surrounding countryside and an experience he could share over tea with
his wife when he returned home that evening.

He unclipped the parachute from his back and left it lying on the car
park for someone else to clear up and hoisted the camera to his
shoulder, deciding he'd probably better carry on filming, the director
would want as many shots of the crowd as possible, and it wasn't as
though Stu was going to be much help. Arthur could see him in the
distance dumping his parachute and camera and trudging off to the
refreshments tent.

Then Arthur caught a glimpse of something in his viewfinder, a splash
of red on the car-park floor. He started to stand up, filming the red
cross placed in the centre of the car park that Joseph had supposed to
land on, although Arthur presumed he had evidently crashed down
somewhere near Fay.

Then he saw the cracks in the concrete and as Arthur pulled himself up
to his full height, the camera's viewfinder fell directly on Joseph
Piper's crumpled and unmoving body, arms and legs twisted every which
way, the blood expelled from his body increasing the red area at the
centre of the landing cross, a smile still firmly on his face.