Chapter 8
CLARK
I need to initiate a conversation. ‘How do you think the afterlife will communicate with us?’
She shrugs and, to my dismay, keeps scrubbing.
My phone lets out a sorrowful bleep, and I am gripped by panic. ‘Do you think they will call us because I don’t have much battery left?’
Florence is casting me a bewildered look. ‘Clark, do you think the afterlife is on a pay-as-you-go contract or do you think they are locked into a twenty-four-month plan?’
I scowl at her as my cheeks start to heat up.
She returns to cleaning and, without looking at me, says, ‘Hilda and Iris are probably up there now choosing a haunting but friendly GIF to send you.’
Florence Hill is infuriating. I look away and curse myself for asking a silly question.
I try to remain silent, but it’s hard as thoughts keep bubbling up inside my head. ‘What time do you think we’ll get the message?’
‘I hope they tell us we’ve passed soon because I want to go home.’
I scratch my stubble-clad jaw. ‘Me too. I’m exhausted.’
Florence casts me a thunderous look. ‘Did Margo keep you awake last night?’
I let out a groan. Why won’t she believe me? ‘I slept on Bread’s sofa.’
Last night didn’t go entirely to plan as Bread failed his mission.
Asking him to keep me away from Margo was never going to work, as one of her friends turned out to be the woman from the karaoke bar.
Bread made a beeline for their table, and I got talking to Margo.
She ended up leading me away to a booth.
‘I want us to try again,’ she purred, stroking my cheek.
I shook my head. ‘You cheated on me with Ben.’
She laughed. ‘Clark, you and I were never supposed to be exclusive. I told you I would date other men.’
Back then, I thought she was joking. It turned out I was deluded. The memory of that dark day when Florence came up to me in the café, tear-stained and emotional, to announce she’d caught Ben in bed with Margo still haunts me.
In the booth, Margo cuddled up to me, placing her hand over mine. ‘I still think of you, Clark. Why don’t we leave here and go back to mine?’
She pouted her pink lips, plumped up her ample cleavage, and ran her tongue over her front teeth. It would have been so easy to tell her to get her coat. For a few hours in her bed, I could forget what had happened between us.
I don’t have any feelings for Margo. She extinguished all those last year when she bedded Florence’s boyfriend, who also happens to be the town’s worst-ever electrician and the idiot in the pub who causes the most trouble.
The thought of turning the tables and using Margo for sex did cross my mind.
Since we broke up, I haven’t been with another woman, and Bread keeps reminding me that even Minty is getting more action than I am right now.
Which is saying something. When Minty, the man mountain, gets more female attention, that is a bad sign.
I did think about Margo’s offer for a few seconds, but Florence’s face wouldn’t leave my drunken mind.
Even though she pushes all my buttons and makes me cross, I know that getting back with Margo would hurt her.
It would also make me look like a right mug.
Margo embarrassed me in front of my mates last year.
They all took the piss out of me for months.
I’d boasted about how she would stay faithful to me.
I pulled my hand away from Margo’s. She smiled. ‘I know you still think about me, Clark…’
I shook my head. ‘No, Margo, I don’t think of you at all. Can you let me out as I need a drink?’
The lads and I all went into a club in town. It was good to get away from my ex. I danced with a few girls, but nothing happened. Bread let me sleep on his sofa as I couldn’t be bothered sorting out a taxi.
I went to catch the bus earlier this morning, trying to fight off a hangover from hell.
My head felt like it had been crushed in the night, my breath stank of wild dog, and my stomach was having second thoughts about the piece of burnt toast Bread made me.
The bus had broken down, and the next one was a half-hour wait.
That was when Margo drove past and spotted me.
I was late for work, and I needed to join an important Teams meeting.
She offered me a lift home, and I got in the car.
Sometimes I do wonder whether I should think things through more before I act.
As we waited at the traffic lights, Margo asked me again whether we could give our relationship another go.
I remained silent. My head hurt, and I just wanted to go home.
As Margo turned into the cul-de-sac, I groaned.
Seeing Florence on her doorstep was like waking up in a nightmare.
I knew what she would think, and I was right.
‘Nothing happened with Margo, Florence. Ask Bread.’
‘It’s your life, Clark,’ she says with a sigh.
I watch her move onto a table near the ‘Do Not Enter’ sign guarding the stairs up to the next floor.
When Harry and I used to play snooker together, he’d always talk about his plans for the café and the floor above, which he and Florence wanted to redecorate. I wonder if she’s got other plans.
‘Are you going to do anything with upstairs?’
She wipes her brow with the back of her hand.
‘I want to, but it’s finding the time and every time I go up there, I think…
’ Her words fade as she looks across at her dad’s face on the notice board.
I sense that going up there reminds her of him.
Harry was a legend and he left a crater-sized hole in Florence’s life.
I decide to change the subject. ‘Let’s talk about the test.’
‘What’s the point?’ she asks, giving the table a rigorous clean. ‘We will be told we’ve passed soon.’
I scratch my stubble-clad jaw. ‘Do you really think we will?’
She stands up straight and casts me a confident smile. ‘I’ve made a change, so I’ve done what they asked. I made a list and chose one. It wasn’t difficult.’ She touches her nose, as she always did when we were kids when she was lying about something.
I take a deep breath and decide to tell her about what I’ve done. ‘I helped Pearl last night. That was my contribution to the test.’
She puts down her cloth and stares at me. ‘Why did you help Pearl?’
Is she doubting my decision? Have I done something wrong?
I scratch my head and ignore the cold trickle of worry which is making its way down the back of my neck. ‘Well, Hilda and Iris talked about how people have been reaching out to us and wanting us to help them, but we’ve been distracted. So, I decided to help Pearl.’
‘Oh, I see.’ She fiddles with the end of her cloth. ‘I gave Molly a Saturday job.’
Now it’s my turn to make her question herself and pay her back for the afterlife phone contract joke. ‘Right, so the afterlife set you a test, and you respond by improving your profit margins.’
Her eyes are narrowing. ‘I did it because she asked me a few weeks ago and I hadn’t got back to her.’
If looks could kill, I would be a dead man by now. I raise my hands in defence. ‘I’m not judging.’
She chucks down her cloth and walks towards me. ‘How did you help Pearl?’ Her voice is a low and raspy growl.
I shift awkwardly in my chair. Florence is on the warpath.
I need to stay calm. ‘Before her friend died, she made Pearl promise her two things. Mary had self-published a book and wanted it to be a bestseller. She also wanted Pearl to track down the true love of her life. I chose to help by selling copies of Mary’s book. ’
‘How did you do that?’
‘I made all my mates in the pub promise to buy a copy.’
‘Mary wanted it to be a bestseller, Clark,’ she scoffs. ‘Asking your mates to buy a copy is not going to send her book up the charts.’
I’m about to retaliate when there’s a flapping of tiny wings. We both look up to see a robin circling above our heads. Florence gasps. ‘How did a bird get inside my café?’
Hang on – is that a tiny piece of white paper in its beak?
‘Florence – look at what it’s carrying. It’s a message.’
Before she can follow my gaze, the robin flies over my table and drops the piece of paper. Florence and I dive for the scrap. She reaches it first and casts me a triumphant smile.
She unfolds the message.
This is it. The moment when we find out we’ve been successful.
To my horror, she groans. ‘Not passed. Try again.’ She throws the paper onto the table.
With a trembling hand, I reach over and study the paper’s contents. The words NOT PASSED – TRY AGAIN are typed in bold black letters.
‘Oh, God,’ I groan. ‘I helped Pearl sell a few books.’
She rolls her eyes. ‘I can’t believe you thought selling a few copies over a pint of cider and a bag of Scampi Fries – not to mention, while your two-timing ex-girlfriend gazes longingly at you – was the change the afterlife wanted to see.’
I stare at her as my anger bubbles. ‘At least I helped someone and didn’t just think about how to earn more money.’
‘It wasn’t like that!’ she screeches before looking away. An uncomfortable silence descends upon us both.
I can’t believe we have to carry on with the afterlife’s ridiculous test. I break the silence. ‘What do we do now?’
With a shrug, she says, ‘I’ll have another think about what else I can change.’
‘And I’ll see if I can sell any more books.’
‘You mentioned earlier about Pearl and her true love. What’s that about?’
I explain to her that Pearl married the wrong man and has spent her whole life wondering what happened to him.
‘That’s sad. Poor Pearl. He might not be alive any more.’
‘Or happily married with grandchildren,’ I add.
We both go silent. The memory of those brown sticky patches on the walls of the bedsit comes back to me. It makes me shiver. ‘Florence, we can’t fail this.’
She nods. ‘I know.’
Florence is looking at me. ‘Can you go now, please?’
‘Do you want me to walk you home?’
‘No thanks, Clark,’ she scoffs. I scowl at her before marching out of the café.
The test consumes my thoughts as I walk home, making me anxious.
I wish the afterlife had given some feedback, maybe told me whether I was on the right track in helping Pearl.
I remember that Mary’s book is still in my jacket pocket, and that Pearl wanted me to read it.
I’d been distracted by Bread’s text and rushed off down the pub.
Maybe that’s where I went wrong. I’ll make a point of reading it.
I feel like the word ‘fail’ has been seared onto my mind.
As I turn into the cul-de-sac, I spot Pearl picking up a parcel from her doorstep.
If Florence and I don’t pass this test, we will die, and who will keep an eye on Pearl?
Emotion rises inside of me and Nan’s face appears in my mind.
I wasn’t there when she needed me, and I have carried that guilt throughout my adult life.
I will not make the same mistake with Pearl.
As I’m about to head up my garden path, I catch sight of Sam from across the road.
Sam is about the same age as Florence and me. He moved here about a year ago and works in the city. I can see him putting out his recycling bags. ‘Clark,’ he says, once he’s finished. ‘Do you fancy grabbing a pint?’
I recall him asking the same thing a few weeks ago. At the time, I was on my way over to Florence’s house to complain about something.
I rub my head. ‘Mate, I was out last night, and right now the talk of booze is turning my stomach.’
Sam grins. ‘No worries. I just need to talk to a man of the world about something that’s on my mind, and you, Clark, strike me as that sort of man.’
‘Another time,’ I say, before yawning. I give him a wave and head towards my house.
As I put my key in the door, I think about what Sam just said. He wanted to talk about something on his mind. I would be helping him if I took him for a pint and listened.
Maybe Sam is the key to the test?
I turn around and walk over to his house. He answers the door after I knock several times. ‘Clark – everything okay?’
‘How do you fancy a pint tomorrow evening after work?’
His face lights up. ‘Great. Meet in the street at about six?’
‘It’s a deal.’
I head back home with a spring in my step. I’ve now got two people to help. Two ways to make a change.