Chapter 4
CLARK
‘Florence, crying is not helpful…’ I stop as the sound of a mechanical groan fills the air.
It’s followed by the deafening screech of metal and clanking cables.
We both put our hands over our ears and slowly turn to face the old lift.
The rectangular screen above the doors has come to life, displaying a flickering white downward arrow.
The foundations of the bedsit shudder as the lift arrives with a thump.
There’s a brief pause, as if the lift used up all its energy to get here, and it needs a few minutes to recover.
Florence wipes her eyes, and I take in a shaky breath.
The control panel crackles, and a button, which was obviously clinging on for dear life, falls to the floor. I gulp as the doors twitch before letting out a low, grating sound as they slide apart, revealing two older ladies.
They step out, greeting us with big smiles and waving white clipboards. One is tall and silver-haired, wearing a white dress. The other is shorter, with shoulder-length caramel-coloured hair, and wears a silvery trouser suit. They come to stand before us.
‘Welcome to the afterlife, Florence and Clark.’ The silver-haired woman beams at both Florence and me like we’re new holidaymakers and they’re our travel reps.
I can’t help nudging Florence. ‘I was right. We’re dead.’
Florence’s face looks frozen in shock.
‘My name is Hilda,’ says the silver-haired lady.
Are these two angels? They don’t look like stereotypical ones, as I can’t see any bird-like wings or golden halos.
‘My name’s Iris,’ says the shorter one, before glancing at her clipboard.
‘You both died on the pedestrian crossing,’ explains Hilda. ‘You were too busy arguing and were mowed down by a car after its tyre had a blowout.’
Florence’s face has just flickered back to life. ‘We’re dead.’
Both Hilda and Iris nod.
Hilda smiles and makes a sweeping gesture with her arm to the bedsit. ‘We’re pleased to introduce you to your transitional accommodation.’
My jaw hits the floor. ‘Our… transitional… what?’
Iris beams. ‘Accommodation.’
Florence is shaking her head. ‘This bedsit is our accommodation – please tell me this is a huge mistake?’
They both blink for a few seconds with open mouths. ‘There is no mistake,’ explains Hilda, before turning over a page on her clipboard.
‘But this place is awful!’ exclaims Florence. ‘It’s dirty, the walls are sticky, the sink belches, and there’s only one bed.’
Hilda looks around. ‘We can provide you with some cleaning products.’
Iris nods. ‘They’re not as good as the ones you have in the living world, but after many hours of scrubbing, I think you’ll notice a small difference.’
‘Not sure you will ever get rid of the decaying smell though,’ adds Hilda.
‘Where are the harps, the pearly gates and the beautiful surroundings?’ Florence asks.
Hilda points to the lift. ‘On the floors above.’
‘Why are we here and not up there?’ Florence growls.
Iris sighs. ‘You both need to find inner peace before you can move on.’
‘I’m not going to find that here,’ I mutter, staring at the yellowish walls.
Florence crosses her arms. ‘How long do we have to stay here?’
Iris glances at a page on her clipboard and smiles at Florence. ‘Until we think you are ready to move to a different floor. That could take anything from a few weeks to all of eternity.’
I stare in horror at Iris. ‘Eternity?’
Iris nods. ‘The search for inner peace can take a long time, Clark. Especially with two troubled souls like yourselves who have built up many issues and resentments with each other.’
‘But what about our families, friends and our lives?’ Florence exclaims. Her face is reddening, and I can see that her eyes are watery. ‘I have a busy café to manage, twenty-five books on my Tbr pile and a secret admirer on Instagram. I’m not ready to die.’
I feel uncomfortable, so I keep my eyes on Iris and Hilda.
Iris casts Florence a pained expression. ‘I know. This must be a sad time for both of you. I bet you’re now regretting wasting most of your life hating each other.’
‘We haven’t wasted our lives,’ snaps Florence.
Hilda raises her eyebrows. ‘You’ve missed chances, and people close to you have been trying to reach out for help for a long time, but you’ve been too preoccupied with silly quarrels.’
Iris checks her clipboard. ‘Your families will hold a joint funeral. When Clark’s mother gives her speech, she will say, “Clark and Florence went out arguing, naturally.” The congregation will nod and murmur in agreement.’
I let out a groan, and Florence shakes her head. ‘You can’t do this. Please help me,’ she pleads, clasping her hands together. ‘This place is a health hazard, and I can’t live with Clark.’
Iris is frantically flicking through several pages on her clipboard. ‘This will help you, Florence,’ she says, in an upbeat tone. ‘The celestial booking system has flagged you both as compatible occupants.’
‘What?’ Florence growls.
Hilda is smiling. ‘It could have been a lot worse, Florence.’ She chuckles. ‘Can you imagine how things would have been if it had flagged you as incompatible?’
‘We hate each other,’ Florence screeches, making Iris drop her clipboard. She bends down to pick it up and glances at Hilda.
‘Look on the bright side,’ says Hilda. ‘Some poor souls wait a lifetime for this opportunity to spend some quality time with a loved one.’
‘He’s not a loved one,’ Florence mutters. ‘He’s an idiot.’
‘A compatible idiot,’ Iris points out, with a nod like she’s reminded her of something important.
‘Can we all stop referring to me as an idiot?’ I groan.
Hilda points to the lift. ‘There are other floors above and… below. Be grateful you are here because some of our transitional accommodation units on the lower floors get very hot.’
Iris surveys our bedsit. ‘This is heavenly compared to what some poor souls find themselves in.’
‘Clark and I have been enemies for years,’ snaps Florence. ‘He’s the most annoying person I have ever met. I can’t live with someone who thinks he’s always right.’
‘I’m not always right,’ I snap. ‘Just more often than you.’
Florence points to me while looking at Hilda and Iris. ‘Do you see how irritating he is?’
‘Her bossiness will not bring me inner peace,’ I say.
She glares at me. ‘I’m assertive.’
‘Florence, you’re about as assertive as a hurricane.’
Hilda and Iris have stopped listening to us bicker and are having a private discussion. They turn and cast us dazzling smiles. ‘There is another way we can help you find inner peace,’ says Iris.
‘What is that?’ Florence asks.
Hilda clasps her hands together. ‘It will mean you won’t have to stay here.’
Iris nods. ‘You will return to your lives, and we will help you find inner peace.’
To my surprise, Florence throws herself at a startled Hilda and embraces her. ‘Oh, Hilda, thank you,’ she sobs. ‘I will do anything to be alive again. I can’t spend eternity in this grotty bedsit with Clark.’
Iris casts me a sympathetic look.
Florence is still hugging Hilda. This hug is going on longer than it needs to. Iris sends Hilda a worried glance. Why won’t Florence let go? I feel a prickle of irritation. Florence is so dramatic.
Hilda pats Florence’s shoulder. ‘You can release me now, my dear.’
Hilda wriggles herself free, and Florence returns, while wiping her eyes, to stand beside me.
Iris clears her throat. ‘We have a proposition for you both.’
‘We’ll agree to whatever you want,’ exclaims Florence. ‘You have our approval.’
‘You can return to your real lives, but you must pass a test,’ Iris says.
I glance at them both. ‘A test?’
Hilda nods. ‘You can return to your lives; however, you must change something.’
‘Change what?’ Florence asks.
Iris hugs her clipboard and beams at us, like a teacher who has just set an eye-watering amount of homework and takes a sick pleasure in knowing her students will endure much suffering. ‘That’s for you to work out.’
I scratch my head. ‘What happens if we don’t pass this test?’
‘You will be sent back here,’ explains Iris. ‘Where we will force you both to live until you find inner peace.’
‘That won’t happen,’ says Florence, with an air of confidence.
Hilda flicks through several pages on her clipboard. ‘You must pass the test by the end of the allotted time.’
‘How long do we get?’ Florence asks.
‘That is for you to discover,’ explains Iris.
‘What do we need to change?’ I ask.
Hilda runs a hand through her silvery hair. ‘Some things can only be changed by living them.’
Florence scowls. ‘What do you mean by that?’
Hilda remains silent and flicks her eyes to whatever is written on the page in front of her.
‘How do we know when we’ve passed?’ I ask.
Hilda smiles. ‘Every evening, you will receive a message from the afterlife. It will tell you whether you have passed or failed.’
Iris nods. ‘You will both need to be together every evening.’
‘Do we only get one chance to pass?’ I ask.
Hilda shakes her head. ‘No, you will be given multiple chances. The main thing is that by the end of the allotted time, you should have succeeded.’
‘So, it’s not a one-off test?’ I ask.
Iris casts me an odd look. ‘Change rarely is, Clark.’
An uncomfortable feeling is engulfing me. ‘This isn’t very fair. We don’t have any idea what we must change.’
‘That’s why it’s called a test,’ says Hilda in a slightly patronising voice. To my annoyance, Iris giggles.
‘But how can we change something if we don’t know what it is we have to change?’ My head is starting to ache.
‘Clark, that’s for you both to work out.’ Iris sighs.
‘Is it graded individually? Because I am not working with him,’ Florence says, pointing to me.
Hilda smiles. ‘That’s another thing you both need to work out.’
‘When can we go back and start?’ Florence asks. ‘Now?’
I nudge her. ‘We can’t go back without any clues.’
She scowls at me. ‘I don’t care what you think. I’m going back.’
Irritation courses through me. I let out a heavy sigh. ‘Fine.’
Hilda flicks over a page on her clipboard. ‘Your first message from the afterlife will appear tomorrow evening.’
Iris clears her throat. ‘We will now send you back to your lives. Remember, to pass the test, you must change something.’
There’s a flash of bright white light, and then the world goes dark.