Page 102 of The Time of My Afterlife

Clark chuckles and jokingly says, ‘It was all Florence’s fault. She used to pick on me.’

Mum’s eyebrows rocket up her head. ‘Clark Fielding, you little liar. You wouldn’t stop playing tricks on her. You knew she didn’t like spiders so you would chase her with them in your hand or put them in her sleeping bag. One camping holiday I remember you dressing up as a ghost and terrifying her in the small hours. The whole campsite awoke to Florence screaming.’

I glance up at him and he grins. ‘At least we kept all you adults on your toes.’

‘Harry used to say that one day you two would fall madly in love. He used to say that even though you did nothing but argue, you couldn’t keep away from each other, and that was a sign. He would be so happy to see you together and relieved the bickering has finally stopped.’

We all chuckle, and Steve outstretches his hand to Clark. ‘Nice to see you again.’

Clark shakes his hand. ‘You too, Steve.’

I look at Clark.

‘Your dad and I used to play snooker at Steve’s place.’

‘Really?’

Steve nods. ‘Harry was a good guy. I miss his laughter and his rubbish jokes.’

Mum laughs and I suddenly realise that Dad won’t be forgotten. He’s still living on inside all of us.

Sam waves me over. ‘The food is nearly gone.’

‘You’ve done a great job, Sam.’

I turn away and wander to the back of Clark’s garden. My mind keeps reminding me that this time tomorrow we will be preparing for the worst. Tears prick my eyes. What will Mum do? I glance back and I spot her leaning against Steve. His arm is around her waist and he’s gazing adoringly at her. He seems a nice man and Dad knew him so I hope he will be there for her. I don’t think Mum was telling me the truth when she told me there were no romantic feelings between them.

My eyes wander over to Laura, who is making Molly laugh. The sight of them both having a nice time and Laura not obsessed with her phone is a pleasing one, and a warm feeling engulfs me. They will be okay. Maybe Mum will even let Laura manage the café for a while.

‘Hey,’ says Clark, putting his arms around me. ‘Are you okay?’

I turn to him and he spots my watery eyes. With his thumb he wipes my damp cheeks. ‘No sadness, Florence.’

‘I can’t help it.’ Pressing my face into his shoulder, I let my tears stream and dampen his shirt.

He strokes my hair and kisses my head. ‘I will hold your hand and we will be okay.’

My plan for a bookish-themed wedding appears in my head. ‘There are things I will never get to experience.’

He pulls me closer. ‘Maybe the afterlife could supply us with a whiteboard?’

I lift my face from his shoulder. ‘Why?’

‘So you can draw me pictures of what our book-themed wedding would have looked like.’

I gasp. ‘You remembered? If we had lived and got married, would you have let me organise us a bookish wedding?’

He kisses me on the lips. ‘Yes, of course. Although I would be hoping you would wear the warrior queen outfit – sexy corset and sword.’

We both giggle.

‘Come on, Florence, no more tears. We are going to have the time of our afterlife up there in our little celestial bedsit.’

His words make me love him even more.

I remember that he phoned his mum. ‘Wait – your mum. Has she not come?’

He shakes his head. ‘She said I was the last person she wanted to talk to. You know Mum and her grudges. I tried to make it sound like tonight was a big thing for me but she hung up.’