Page 8 of The Time of My Afterlife

‘Welcome to the afterlife, Florence and Clark.’ The silver-haired woman beams at both Florence and me like we’re new holidaymakers and they’re our travel reps.

I can’t help nudging Florence. ‘I was right. We’re dead.’

Florence’s face looks frozen in shock.

‘My name is Hilda,’ says the silver-haired lady.

Are these two angels? They don’t look like stereotypical ones, as I can’t see any bird-like wings or golden halos.

‘My name’s Iris,’ says the shorter one, before glancing at her clipboard.

‘You both died on the pedestrian crossing,’ explains Hilda. ‘You were too busy arguing and were mowed down by a car after its tyre had a blowout.’

Florence’s face has just flickered back to life. ‘We’re dead.’

Both Hilda and Iris nod.

Hilda smiles and makes a sweeping gesture with her arm to the bedsit. ‘We’re pleased to introduce you to your transitional accommodation.’

My jaw hits the floor. ‘Our… transitional… what?’

Iris beams. ‘Accommodation.’

Florence is shaking her head. ‘This bedsit is our accommodation – please tell me this is a huge mistake?’

They both blink for a few seconds with open mouths. ‘There is no mistake,’ explains Hilda, before turning over a page on her clipboard.

‘But this place is awful!’ exclaims Florence. ‘It’s dirty, the walls are sticky, the sink belches, and there’s only one bed.’

Hilda looks around. ‘We can provide you with some cleaning products.’

Iris nods. ‘They’re not as good as the ones you have in the living world, but after many hours of scrubbing, I think you’ll notice a small difference.’

‘Not sure you will ever get rid of the decaying smell though,’ adds Hilda.

‘Where are the harps, the pearly gates and the beautiful surroundings?’ Florence asks.

Hilda points to the lift. ‘On the floors above.’

‘Why are we here and not up there?’ Florence growls.

Iris sighs. ‘You both need to find inner peace before you can move on.’

‘I’m not going to find that here,’ I mutter, staring at the yellowish walls.

Florence crosses her arms. ‘How long do we have to stay here?’

Iris glances at a page on her clipboard and smiles at Florence. ‘Until we think you are ready to move to a different floor. That could take anything from a few weeks to all of eternity.’

I stare in horror at Iris. ‘Eternity?’

Iris nods. ‘The search for inner peace can take a long time, Clark. Especially with two troubled souls like yourselves who have built up many issues and resentments with each other.’

‘But what about our families, friends and our lives?’ Florence exclaims. Her face is reddening, and I can see that her eyes are watery. ‘I have a busy café to manage, twenty-five books on my TBR pile and a secret admirer on Instagram. I’m not ready to die.’

I feel uncomfortable, so I keep my eyes on Iris and Hilda.

Iris casts Florence a pained expression. ‘I know. This must be a sad time for both of you. I bet you’re now regretting wasting most of your life hating each other.’