Page 54 of The Time of My Afterlife

‘I understand. If I had an idea like that, I would be eager to get started.’

Jane looks at Florence. ‘Thanks for yesterday. You gave me a lot of confidence in my idea.’

‘About our chat,’ says Florence, her shoulders dropping slightly. ‘I’m sorry if I was a little strong with my own ideas on how you should go about it.’

‘She can be a bit bossy with me too,’ I jokingly add, which makes Florence poke me in the ribs.

Jane smiles. ‘It’s okay. I don’t have any fancy tech or ideas on social media strategy.’

‘You don’t need those, Jane.’ I explain how I recorded mine on a phone app and edited it on GarageBand on my laptop. I made artwork in Canva and signed up to a podcast platform, which handled all the hard work of distributing it.

She smiles. ‘That’s useful. It’s good to know a podcaster lives on my street.’

‘An experienced podcaster,’ I add, puffing up my chest, which causes Florence to raise an eyebrow.

Jane takes out her laptop. ‘I’ve already created some artwork. What do you both think?’

It’s a bold cover in a striking deep plum colour. The title font makes the gold lettering look handwritten, giving it an intimate feel. In the centre is a pile of white letters, and on top is a podcast microphone.

‘Jane – that’s brilliant. So eye-catching,’ gushes Florence.

Jane’s face lights up. ‘Last night I set up my podcast on a platform. Even got brave and have done some posting on social media.’

‘Oh really?’ Florence asks, taking out her phone. ‘Does your podcast have an Instagram account? I’d love to have a look?’

Jane nods. ‘Search for The Lonely-Hearts podcast. I posted my first reel. I was surprised at the reaction I got. A lot of re-posts and likes.’

I stare at her and ignore my mind, which cruelly reminds me of when I announced my podcast on Instagram. I got one like from Bread, who left me a comment about how fit his Liverpudlian girlfriend looked in the saucy underwear he’d bought her.

Florence gasps at her phone. ‘Your reel is great, Jane. You have mastered that hook.’ I listen as Florence plays the reel. ‘If you’ve ever felt like you’re the only one awake in the middle of the night, you’re not. Each week, a new letter from a lonely heart.’

I remember when I set up my podcast’s social media and thought about asking Florence for advice, since her Instagram book posts are so engaging. But I changed my mind. Not wanting to give in to her. An uncomfortable feeling takes hold of me. After a deep breath, I banish that memory to the back of my mind and decide to focus on helping Jane, remembering that I am an experienced podcaster.

Florence and Jane are still talking about social media tips. ‘Wow, Florence, that’s such a good idea,’ gushes Jane as she looks at one of Florence’s book posts.

‘I’m going to look at your Instagram in more detail tonight.’ Jane beams. ‘Those carousel posts look so easy to create.’

Florence glances at me and deploys her infamous triumphant smile. She’s been using it on me since childhood. The moment she’s got one over on me it appears. It’s smug, sparkling and deeply irritating.

Every time I see it, I think back to the time she wrote the word IDIOT across my forehead in black pen while I slept on a family camping holiday. She made that same smile at breakfast when I realised why everyone was laughing at me. If I’m honest, she was seeking revenge after I’d put the biggest spider I could find in her sleeping bag, but I dismiss that.

That smile is her little victory flag. I always retaliate.

Jane sighs. ‘All I need now is the confidence to record my first episode. I would do it now, but I’m out this morning. Maybe I could, though, this afternoon?’

‘This afternoon works for me,’ I say, seizing the opportunity to showcase my skills to Jane.

‘What? Do some recording?’ Jane asks. ‘That would be great.’

Florence nudges me. ‘I’ll be in the café.’

‘I’ll help Jane, don’t worry.’

Leaning closer, Florence hisses, ‘We’re supposed to be a team.’

‘Can’t Laura cover today?’

Florence shakes her head. ‘She can’t do a day on her own. I feel bad as she hasn’t taken much holiday, and she’s got the afternoon off. You and I agreed to do things together. Can’t you wait for me?’