Page 27 of The Time of My Afterlife

‘We didn’t speak, and one day she stopped getting the train, as I assume she had the baby.’

‘Lucky escape,’ says Bread, running a hand through his loaf-like hair.

I ignore Bread. ‘Have you seen her since?’

Sam shakes his head. ‘This is the thing I can’t stop thinking about: her and how she’s doing.’

‘She’s knee deep in nappies,’ adds Bread, before winking at a woman who comes past our table.

‘What are you going to do?’ I ask while Bread is distracted by ogling the woman.

He shrugs. ‘I don’t know whether to try and find her.’

Bread comes back into the conversation and shakes his head. ‘Sam, leave that situation alone. The last thing you need is a screaming kid.’

‘Her partner might have come back into her life,’ I add. ‘He might have seen the baby and realised he wants to be a part of their lives.’

Sam nods. ‘Yeah, you’re right. We had this strong connection, though.’

Bread sighs. ‘Mate, I have the same connection with a woman I met in a karaoke bar. The way she sang that Cher hit – it gave me goosebumps. Although it’s been eight days and she still won’t sleep with me.’

I ignore Bread. ‘Maybe it was wrong timing.’

Sam nods. ‘I feel better for getting this off my chest.’

Bread smiles and pats Sam on the shoulder. ‘Stick with us, Sam.’

Sam’s face brightens. ‘Thanks.’

‘You need to meet someone else,’ advises Bread. ‘Take your mind off the new mother. Clark’s ex-girlfriend is available.’ He puts his hands to his chest. ‘You’ll like Margo.’

My irritation spikes. I shake my head. ‘Not funny.’

Bread laughs and nudges Sam. ‘The other thing with Margo is that she likes an open relationship. Clark learnt that the hard way.’

‘How about a game of pool, Sam?’ I ask, ignoring Bread.

We have an enjoyable few rounds of pool, and on the way home, Sam thanks me for a good night. ‘I needed that,’ he gushes. ‘It got me out of my head.’

‘Anytime,’ I say as we approach the cul-de-sac.

‘See you soon, Clark,’ says Sam as I look up at Florence’s house. Earlier in the café, I informed her that I would be over later for the afterlife’s message. At the time, she was taking my payment for the late toastie. To my annoyance, she kept looking over her shoulder at Ronan, and I’m not even sure she was listening to me.

I wave at Sam and walk up Florence’s path. A thought pushes its way to the front of my mind. I still haven’t read Mary’s book. An uncomfortable feeling takes hold of me. What if I haven’t done enough? What happens if we fail again because I did not do what Pearl asked me to do? My heartbeat breaks into a panicky gallop.

I look over at my little house standing on the corner of the cul-de-sac. In the window, I can see my cat watching out. If I died – who would adopt him? My mother wouldn’t as she can’t stand being in the same room as Mr White Socks. My father left her for a woman who breeds pedigree cats and she’s still holding a grudge against the entire feline population. My chest aches at the thought of her marching my little boy to a rehoming centre while muttering things about my father.

His face flashes up inside my head. We stopped speaking for ten years after he walked out. I was twenty and angry at the pain he’d caused Mum. He moved to London, and as far as I was concerned, that was the end of our relationship. A few months ago, I quite literally bumped into him in the British Museum. Of all places. I remember the jolt of it like the ground beneath my feet was shifting. I’d spent so long convincing myself that I wouldn’t feel anything if I ever saw him again. I was wrong. When he apologised for all the hurt he’d caused and then looked at me with pink, watery eyes, I had a sudden urge to reconnect with him. He must have felt the same, as he gave me his mobile number and told me to WhatsApp him. Since then, we’ve been messaging each other. Mainly about the football scores and what he’s watched on TV. Mum doesn’t know we’re back in contact. She would be so cross if she knew he was back in my life. It’s been years since he walked out and she is still furious. So, I have kept him a secret. At the end of the month, he’ll be in the area at a conference and says he’ll pop by to see my house. I gulp back a wave of emotion. Depending on what happens with the test, I might not be here to show him around. I reach Florence’s doorstep and suppress the pang of sadness about my dad.

She’ll have to invite me inside, which will be a new experience. The thought of going to her house makes me feel nervous. I think about how I helped Sam, but my mind reminds me that I still haven’t read Mary’s book. After a deep breath, I decide to cling to the fact that I took Sam for a drink, gave him some relationship advice and then beat him twice at pool. I can always read the book if we fail again.

As Florence answers the door, my optimism wobbles.

11

FLORENCE

It feels strange watching Clark enter my home for the first time. Odd, almost unnatural. We’ve never set foot inside each other’s houses, despite constant efforts from our respective families. My mother and Clark’s mother are still close and cling to the delusional belief that we will one day marry. I always roll my eyes at Mum and say, ‘Over my dead body.’