Chapter 26
CLARK
Molly has gone upstairs to Florence’s spare room. I sense she’s keen to play on her console and text her friends.
Florence is giving me odd looks from the doorway to the kitchen. I thought that when Molly left the room, I would get shouted at for taking over, but she hasn’t said a thing.
‘You were good with her,’ she says, quietly.
I shrug. ‘I know how she feels.’
‘Thank you.’
We stare at each other. She breaks eye contact first and goes to stand by her whiteboard. ‘How do you think we’ve done today?’
I go over. ‘All we have done is get Molly to talk.’
She grabs a marker and starts to squeeze it like a stress toy. ‘We must keep focused. If I’m right all these tiny changes will lead to something bigger.’
There’s a flapping of wings, and we both look at Florence’s open living room window. A black crow has flown through it and is flying above our heads. In its beak is a little roll of white paper.
‘Oh no,’ exclaims Florence. ‘A crow? Don’t crows signify death?’
My heart grinds to a halt. A cold sweat breaks out on my neck. All we have done today is paint the café and talk to a teenager about her mum.
Instinctively I reach for Florence’s hand. To my surprise she slips hers into mine and I gently squeeze it.
The crow dives and flies over us, dropping the roll of paper by our feet. After letting out a loud squark it shoots back across the room and out of the window.
‘Open it,’ urges Florence.
I let go of her hand and bend down to pick up the piece of paper. I unfold it.
The words dance in front of my eyes.
NOT PASSED. TRY AGAIN. TIME IS RUNNING OUT.
I hand the piece of paper to Florence. ‘Failed again.’
Florence is reading the message. She goes to sit on the sofa. ‘Well, this wasn’t a surprise – I mean, to know that we have failed again.’
‘Yes, I agree.’
She glances up at the whiteboard. ‘We need to step up our small changes. Maybe we got carried away with the café today?’
I shake my head and recall the look of surprise on Yvonne’s face. ‘No, it made your mum happy. We were doing something that your father would have wanted.’
She smiles at me. ‘You’re right.’
‘We also didn’t argue today.’
She laughs. ‘That’s a biggie for us.’
I turn back to the whiteboard and stare at Pearl and Mr Beaver’s names. ‘Tomorrow will be key. We drive to Pixie Cove and try to speak to Rodney. It’s weird calling him that.’
Florence comes to stand by me. ‘What does he look like now?’
‘Like he did when we were kids. Still ancient.’
She smiles. ‘Come to the café at lunch and pick me up?’
‘Okay. See you tomorrow.’
I’m about to head for her front door when she says, ‘How did you know about my Instagram page?’
Air gets trapped in my throat. My heart falters. I recall how Pearl dropped me in it earlier by telling Florence how I had shown her some of her photos. For the second time this evening, a cold sweat breaks out down my neck. I need to come up with something. ‘Erm… your mum showed me.’
‘My mum – really? I didn’t know she went on Instagram.’
I nod and then my brain loses control of my mouth. ‘She’s on there. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s got her own—’
Florence interrupts me. ‘Does the snooker hall have an Instagram profile?’
‘Yes, I follow Steve – why?’
She rolls her eyes. ‘That’s why my mother is on Instagram.’
‘They’re friends.’ I often see Yvonne at the snooker hall. She and Steve are always laughing about something or chatting like they go way back.
Florence scowls. ‘I need to speak to her. See you tomorrow.’
I need to leave now before she asks me any tricky questions and I let slip that I am Chris.
‘Oh, Clark,’ says Florence as my heart grinds to a halt. This is the bit where she asks me whether I am Chris and all hell breaks loose. ‘Go and get Mary’s book. I’ll start it tonight.’
Relief floods through me. ‘Okay,’ I squeak.
‘I’ll also message my book reviewer friend who might help too.’