Page 61 of The Time of My Afterlife

She fiddles with a loose thread on her denim jacket. ‘Feeling nervous again.’

‘Me too. We won’t have passed.’

She shakes her head and croaks, ‘No.’

‘Do you want a hug?’

She blinks for a few seconds, and I find myself praying she says yes. Then there’s a knock at the door, making us both jump. She gets up and gasps at whoever is standing on the doorstep. I twist around to see who it as and my heart lurches into my throat.

Iris and Hilda are here.

They’ve just come into Florence’s living room, with huge grins on their faces and waving their clipboards at us like two holiday reps.

I gulp. What does this mean? A terrorising thought pushes its way to the front of my mind – it’s over. They are here to take us back to the afterlife.

Florence comes to sit next to me. She’s trembling so I put my arm around her. To my surprise she leans against me.

‘Hello again.’ Hilda beams. Her silver dress is shimmering in the light.

Iris is surveying Florence’s room. ‘What lovely décor, Florence. Those bookcases look delightful. If I had more time I would have a little browse. Do you have any angel romances?’

Hilda nudges her, before looking at both of us. ‘It’s so nice to see you both.’

Iris giggles. ‘Did you like the butterflies? That was my idea.’ She points to Hilda. ‘If it had been left up to her you would have just had boring birds. I decided to shake things up a bit.’

‘The butterflies were amazing,’ I mumble.

Hilda clears her throat and glances at her clipboard. ‘We’re here to say that you’ve failed… again.’

Iris chuckles and grins at us. ‘Isn’t this fun?’

‘Are we going to die?’ Florence croaks, before wiping her wet cheeks. ‘Is that why you’re here?’

Hilda and Iris exchange puzzled looks. They turn back and I hold my breath.

‘No,’ says Hilda. ‘You can try again.’

A wave of relief crashes over me and I pull Florence closer. She rests her head on my shoulder, and I feel her body relax against mine.

‘Why are you here?’ I ask.

Iris shrugs. ‘We like to keep you on your toes, and Hilda forgot to sort out a messenger. She was too busy fluffing Gabriel’s halo.’

Hilda gives her a prod. ‘Careful.’

‘Can you give us a clue on how we are doing?’ Florence asks.

Hilda shakes her head but Iris stares at Florence’s jacket sleeve. ‘That’s a fabulous vintage denim jacket, Florence. You must look after it.’

Was that a clue? Florence might be onto something with her ‘small things’ theory. A burst of excitement ripples through me.

Iris smiles and points towards the door. ‘We are going now. It was great to see you again. Glad you liked the butterflies.’

They both hurry out and close the door behind them.

We remain silent for a few moments. To my surprise Florence remains in the crook of my arm and the sight is making my heart flutter.

She sits up and grins at me. ‘We have another chance, Clark.’