Page 12 of The Time of My Afterlife

I smile, take his phone and with the old man’s help, find the son’s name in the call directory.

‘He’s on his way,’ I say after I’ve made the call and hand back the phone.

‘I thought the car was going to knock you down,’ he says. ‘It was terrifying.’

I take his hand and give it a gentle rub. ‘We’re all okay. These things happen.’

‘I only checked my tyres last week.’

The woman with the dog turns to him. ‘You could have driven over a nail. It happened to us once on the motorway. Bloody terrifying. I know how you feel.’

Once the car is safely on the verge and the traffic flows freely again the world seems to snap back to normal. A car horn blares out and my heart stutters. My body starts to tremble as the thought hits me – Clark and I died back there. My delayed shock makes the old man look concerned.

‘My son lives locally,’ he says. ‘He won’t be long. You can go if you want.’

‘We’ll stay with you.’ I smile, still holding his hand.

When his son arrives he gives his father a hug. ‘I see you’re busy causing trouble, Dad.’ He grins and turns to Clark and me. ‘Dad will do anything to get out of looking after his grandkids.’

We all smile, and he thanks us for helping.

Clark and I walk back over the crossing in silence. My legs feel like they’ve been turned into jelly, I have the start of a headache, and I just want to go back to my café. I’m also annoyed at Clark for not sticking up for me when that sexist man made his comment about leaving heavy work to the men.

Clark stops once we’re on the other side. ‘What’s wrong with you?’

I’m not explaining myself, so I turn away and watch the traffic.

‘We did go to the afterlife – didn’t we? Or was I hallucinating?’ he asks after a lengthy silence.

‘The afterlife with the burping sink and one bed,’ I mumble, still with my gaze on the road.

He groans. ‘They’ve given us a second chance, which means we have that test to pass.’

‘Yes, we do.’ I turn back to him.

His jaw tightens and his brow furrows. ‘Any ideas on how we pass? What is the “something” we need to change?’

Two young women walk past us and stop at the crossing. The blonde woman, with long, wavy hair, a short denim skirt, and sunglasses perched on her head, smiles at him. ‘Hi, Clark.’

I watch his face light up. ‘Hey, Emma. How are you?’

All my irritation with him rushes back to me. It makes my headache intensify. I am not standing here while he flirts with every female that crosses the road. I have a test to pass.

While he makes Emma and her friend laugh, I hurry away.

‘Hey, Florence,’ he shouts a few moments later. ‘Wait.’

He’s by my side and flashing me that boyish smile of his. ‘What is it that we need to change?’

I’m still annoyed by his casual flirting at the pedestrian crossing. After all we have endured, you’d think meeting women would be the last thing on his mind. I am not discussing it with him. The man annoys me, and from what I’ve just witnessed, he is easily distracted by a short denim skirt. ‘Clark, I work better on my own.’

‘I don’t know what we’re supposed to be doing,’ he exclaims, his voice tinged with desperation. ‘We need to talk about this.’

I shake my head. ‘Sorry, you’re on your own.’

He blinks at me for a few seconds. ‘Don’t you think we should work together?’

I scoff. ‘Clark, I am not working with you.’