Page 89 of The Time of My Afterlife

‘When are you thinking of getting episode two out?’ I ask.

‘I’m going to record when you leave, so tonight. I record in my broom cupboard.’

That makes me chuckle. ‘Really?’

‘It cuts out all the background noise.’

‘You said you were feeling better. Do you think the podcast has helped?’

I watch a goofy smile spread across her face. ‘It’s given me something to focus on. I’m proud of myself for taking the first step. It was so scary putting it live, but I’m glad I did.’

‘I know that feeling of terror when you hit “publish”.’

She laughs. ‘It felt like I did when I was back in school, and the teacher would read out what I had written.’

‘Jane, I am pleased for you.’

‘You and Florence both helped me, and I will always be grateful.’

I drain my cup. ‘Think of us when you’re famous.’

‘Sorry about Jack.’

‘This will be my next project,’ I say with a wry smile. ‘Getting Jack to forgive me.’

She glances at the staircase. ‘Why don’t you come back tomorrow?’

I leave her house and hop over the little white fence to Florence’s. When she opens the door, she’s smiling. ‘Detective Holloway is on LinkedIn. She’s not retired and works for the Metropolitan Police. Come in.’

She steps aside and lets me in. Our arms brush as I pass, and she looks at me with a new intensity. Each time we hug, our grip tightens. It’s like we’re building up to something.

I want to feel her in my arms again.

35

FLORENCE

We’re sitting side by side on the sofa and I’m leaning against him.

He’s pointing to a book on my shelves. ‘I read that spicy bakery romance novel you once recommended.’

I stare at him in surprise. ‘You read it?’

‘Florence, I took my job as Chris seriously.’

I giggle. ‘Thoughts?’

He runs a hand through his chaotic brown hair. ‘It made me blush in parts.’

‘Can I add that to my review? The author would love to hear she made a thirty-one-year-old man blush.’

We both laugh, and my chest feels like it’s filled with a hundred tiny robins all flapping their wings. What is Clark doing to me?

I take out my phone and bring up Detective Holloway’s LinkedIn profile. ‘She’s now a detective inspector. There’s no photo. I want to see what she looks like.’ I tap her name into Google to see if I can find one. It takes a while but eventually I find a newspaper article with her name featured. There’s also an image. She has a mass of black springy curls, and a vague sense of familiarity washes over me. ‘I’ve seen her before.’

I take a screenshot of the address where she’s currently based. Tomorrow I will send her Mary’s book with a note saying Read the acknowledgements.

Clark is looking at me. ‘Can we talk about the test as I am getting stressed again?’