Chapter 23
FLORENCE
My jaw feels like it has become unhinged. It’s the shock of hearing Clark finally compliment me on my ideas and that I might also be right about the afterlife’s test. I blink in astonishment at him.
A boyish grin sweeps across his face. ‘Say something. That was a big thing for me.’
We both start to laugh, and soon we are in hysterics.
After composing ourselves, he raises his hand and we high-five each other. ‘We’re still here.’ He beams. ‘We can have another go at Iris and Hilda’s test.’
I nod. ‘Iris did make me smile with her boasting about the butterflies.’
‘It was spectacular, I will give her that.’ Dark hair falls over his eyes.
He pushes it away with his hand, and I remember what it felt like earlier when I was scared, and he put his arm around me.
That was a strange sensation that followed.
One I never got with any of my other boyfriends for that matter.
He’s up on his feet and heading towards my whiteboard, which still has our plan on it.
I go and stand next to him. ‘I think we should wipe clean and make a new plan.’
I chuckle as he grabs the cloth. ‘You’re becoming a whiteboard fan.’
He laughs. ‘I might look for one myself after this.’ He writes the words ‘Small Things’ at the top. ‘Right, let’s brainstorm all the things we can do – big or small.’
‘Persuade Jane to record an entire episode and put it live.’
He nods and writes down what I said.
‘Persuade Pearl to meet Mr Beaver.’ I pause to admire his clear and swirly handwriting. It’s better than my scrawl. ‘Oh, and I need to read Mary’s book and think about how we can make it a bestseller.’
He groans. ‘I still haven’t finished it.’
‘Give it to me. I’ll have a go.’
After chewing on the lid of my marker, he taps the board. ‘Laura and Molly.’
Now it’s my turn to groan. ‘I made that situation worse. Molly didn’t want her mum to find a new man. She’s scared her mum might become obsessed again like she did with Vince.’
Clark nods after writing their names. ‘We need to improve that situation.’
I recall him going for a drink with Sam. ‘What about Sam? You took him for a drink – is there anything we can do to help him?’
He shakes his head. ‘I don’t think so. It’s not a great situation.’
We stare at the board for a few moments. Clark then bends down and squares off a new section. He writes ‘Florence and Clark’.
‘Us? Really?’ I remark. ‘What small things can we do? I know stopping acting like kids is a big one.’
He shrugs and writes ‘Upstairs at the café’.
‘But that’s my task,’ I mumble.
To my surprise he shakes his head. ‘Your dad was amazing to me, and I want to give something back. I want to help you make his dream a reality.’
Hearing him say that makes my heart swell. ‘Really?’
He’s now staring at me intently. ‘Tomorrow morning, I will come to the café and we’ll go from there.’
‘What about you? There must be things you can do.’
After grimacing, he writes ‘Tell Mum about Dad’.
My eyes widen in shock. I know Clark and his dad have been estranged for years. ‘Your dad?’
‘I bumped into him in the British Museum a few months ago.’ He flicks his gaze to the floor. ‘It was weird. I hadn’t spoken to him for ten years, but when I saw him, I suddenly wanted to reconnect. We’ve been chatting on WhatsApp.’
Instinctively I reach out and touch his arm. ‘Clark, that’s great news.’
He looks at me with a worried expression. ‘It is but I haven’t told Mum.’
Gail, Clark’s mum, is still angry for Keith’s betrayal.
Whenever I see her in town our conversations always result in her blaming Keith for anything bad that’s happened to her, despite the fact she hasn’t seen him for ten years.
Last time I saw her she even tried to pin her faulty boiler and her recent bout of gout on him.
‘That will be tough.’
With a sigh, he nods and stares back at the board. ‘I want to be honest with her. If anything did happen to us, she would find out and it would be an uncomfortable funeral wake for everyone else.’
Tiredness washes over me and I rub my eyes.
He smiles and puts down the pen. ‘I’m exhausted too. Shall we start afresh tomorrow?’
‘I’d like that.’
We stand and stare at each other for a moment. I want to give him a hug because of what we’ve been through tonight but the thought of asking whether he wants one makes me nervous. I feel like a schoolgirl again, like I’m asking my sixth-form crush out on a date. This is weird.
‘Goodnight, Florence,’ he says with a warm smile, and my heart starts to flutter.
Something has shifted between us. Clark was in my dream last night.
I didn’t dream he was annoying me or that we were arguing. He was passionately kissing me, and I was… enjoying it. I woke up gasping, with a damp pillow. As I climbed into the shower, I tried to tell myself it was a dream, but I still felt a twinge of disappointment in my chest.
On the way to the café, I tried to distract myself by appreciating the fact I was alive and that another day full of opportunities to pass the test stretched out before me. Clark’s face kept flashing up inside my mind though and causing my heart to go berserk.
I haven’t opened the café yet. I’m cleaning the counter when I hear his voice. ‘Hello.’
He’s standing in the doorway. I must have forgotten to lock it when I entered.
Today he’s wearing a snug black T-shirt, beige shorts and trainers. His hair is not its usual artful mess and looks like it’s been styled at the front. He meets my gaze and all I can think of is that damn dream where we were locked in an embrace and he was kissing me with such ferocity and hunger.
‘Have you got time to come upstairs?’ he asks.
Even though it was his suggestion on the whiteboard I didn’t think he’d follow through with it. ‘You remembered?’
He nods and comes inside. ‘Yes, it’s been on my mind all night if you must know.’
‘Really?’
‘I want to make Harry smile wherever he is. Do you have the keys for the café? I’ll lock the door in case you get any eager customers.’
After locking the door, I unhook the ‘Do Not Enter’ sign and take a deep breath.
‘How long ago did you last come up here?’ Clark asks.
‘A couple of weeks. I got too emotional and put it off again.’
We walk up the stairs, and at the top, my heart skips a beat.
The first floor is a large echo-y room with two large grubby windows.
There’s a collection of boxes stacked in the middle of the floor, along with two abandoned chairs.
The walls were once white but are now almost grey.
We stand by the boxes and survey the room. ‘Are you okay?’ he asks.
Emotion is building inside of me. I can picture Dad rummaging through the boxes while lecturing me about his vision. The urge to go back downstairs is strong.
I’m about to turn on my heels when Clark bends down to pick something off the floor. To my surprise, he hands me a white feather. ‘It’s a sign. He wants you to do this.’
Laying the feather in the palm of my hand, I watch it become blurry. Tears prick my eyes. I try to hold them back, but they escape down my cheeks. ‘Dad,’ I croak.
Then I’m in Clark’s arms, and he’s pulling me into a hug. It’s the sort of hug you don’t want to end. When he finally releases me, I force out a smile. ‘Thank you.’
‘Let’s get started on decorating this place,’ he says. ‘I can work up here and you can manage the café.’
His hug has left me feeling unsteady but I need to focus on this plan. ‘I can give you money for the paint and stuff.’
He shakes his head. ‘We can sort all that out later. Right, tell me what you’re thinking colour-wise?’
I smile at him. ‘We’re really doing this?’
He takes out his phone and opens his notes app. ‘Yes, Florence. Now tell me your vision for up here because I will go and get what we need.’