Heaven Can Wait

by Cally Taylor

  ‘Hi, Sally,’ I said, standing to kiss her on the cheek. ‘You look amazing.’

  Archie stared up at her open-mouthed, a prawn cracker crumb resting on his lower lip.

  ‘Sorry, sorry,’ he said, swiping at his mouth with the napkin as he stood up. ‘I forgot my manners. Sally, you look absolutely stunning.’

  She smiled nervously and lowered herself into the chair Archie had pulled out for her.

  ‘I feel silly,’ she said as he pushed the chair in. ‘You two are wearing casual clothes and I’m done up like a dog’s dinner.’

  ‘You look beautiful,’ I said. ‘Honestly. I’m the slob for turning up for dinner in my jeans.’

  Archie gazed across at Sally, his menu limp in his hand, and then turned to look at me.

  ‘I think you both look lovely,’ he said. I couldn’t read the look in his eyes.

  ‘So do you, Archie,’ said Sally. ‘Blue really suits you.’

  Archie blushed and stared at the table cloth.

  ‘Wine, Sally?’ I asked, gesturing at her empty glass with the bottle.

  *

  We were halfway through our starter of prawn toast, chicken satay and sticky ribs when Archie’s phone rang. Sally had been teaching us how to swear in Cantonese and she was laughing hysterically at our pronunciation.

  ‘Sorry, ladies,’ Archie said, placing his nibbled prawn toast on his plate. ‘I’ll have to get that. Do excuse me.’

  Sally and I stopped laughing and watched as he scrabbled around in his record bag for his phone.

  ‘Hello, Grandmother,’ he said.

  I felt my heart sink.

  ‘Yes, Grandmother,’ he said again.

  I could hear her plummy tones from across the table, but couldn’t make out what she was saying.

  ‘There’s a torch in my bedroom,’ Archie said. ‘Sorry? OK, I completely understand … no, of course … absolutely … I’ll see you in about half an hour. OK, see you then. Bye.’ He frowned as he removed the phone from his ear and slipped it back into his bag.

  ‘What’s up?’ I asked, trying desperately to look nonchalant.

  ‘It’s Grandmother,’ he said, pushing his plate away. ‘The lights have gone out, and she doesn’t want to check the fuse box in case she electrocutes herself.’

  What? Even I knew flicking the fuse switch back on couldn’t hurt you.

  ‘You’re kidding?’ I said.

  Archie shook his head. ‘I’m afraid not. The stairs to the bathroom are pitch-black and she’s been crossing her legs for the last half hour. She said she can’t hang on much longer.’

  ‘Are you going to come back afterwards?’ Sally asked. She was still smiling.

  ‘Probably not,’ Archie said, looking at his watch. ‘By the time I get there, flick the switch and come back, it’ll be ten o’clock and the main course will have been served.’

  Sally’s face fell. ‘Couldn’t you join us for a dessert or coffee?’

  ‘I’m really sorry,’ Archie said, standing up and wriggling into his jacket. He took a couple of notes out of his wallet and placed them beside his plate. ‘Maybe we could do this again sometime.’

  ‘Love to.’ Sally stood up and kissed him on the cheek. ‘Maybe the same time next week? Lucy? Is that OK with you?’

  I reached for my glass of wine and knocked it back. I didn’t have a week. If Archie didn’t realise Sally was his soulmate by the end of Friday, it was all over for me. I’d be whisked off to heaven, whether I liked it or not, and I’d never see Dan again. Anna would get her claws into him and I’d become a distant memory. Lucy, Lucy who? Oh, that girl I went out with once …

  ‘Lucy,’ Archie said as I poured myself another glass of wine. ‘Are you OK?’

  I shook my head. ‘Get back to your grandmother, Archie. She needs you. I’ll call you next week, OK?’

  ‘Thanks for being so understanding, Lucy.’ He rounded the table and kissed me on the cheek.

  ‘Can I just ask you one thing?’ I said as he headed towards the door.

  ‘Of course,’ he said, turning back.

  ‘Did your grandmother know you were coming out with me tonight?’

  He smiled. ‘Of course.’

  I figured as much.

  ‘What was that all about?’ Sally asked as the bell above the front door tinkled and Archie disappeared down the street. ‘Why were you so pissed off that Archie had to go back to his grandmother’s? It’s no big deal. We can have dinner next week instead.’

  ‘I was just looking forward to tonight,’ I said, pushing my plate away from me, my appetite ruined, ‘that’s all.’

  Sally fiddled with her butterfly clip, reached for her wine glass, put it back down and then chewed on her thumbnail.

  ‘Can I ask you something, Lucy?’ she asked, looking at me from beneath her false eyelashes.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Are you and Archie in love?’

  I laughed. ‘Of course not! What gave you that idea?’

  Her fingers went back into her mouth. ‘Because you two have been inseparable since you joined Computer Bitz,’ she mumbled. ‘Everyone thinks you’re an item.’

  ‘Well we’re not. We’re just friends.’

  ‘Oh, thank goodness.’ She sighed and slumped back in her chair. ‘You have no idea how relieved I am.’

  ‘Sally, are you—?’

  The waiter appeared, raised his eyebrows at the amount of food we’d left and swiftly cleared the table. When he’d strutted off with our plates I tried again.

  ‘Sally, are you in love with Archie?’

  ‘Yeah.’ She nibbled at her lip, leaving teeth marks in her red lipstick. ‘I’ve been in love with him since I started doing my sandwich rounds at Computer Bitz.’

  ‘Oh, Sally,’ I said, reaching across the table to touch her hand. ‘I think that’s lovely. Why haven’t you told him how you feel?’

  She shrugged. ‘I know I come across as some kind of badass, but—’

  I laughed. Loud, boisterous and friendly maybe, but a badass? Definitely not.

  ‘But I’m actually quite shy when it comes to men,’ she said ruefully. ‘I like them to make the first move. I’m kind of old-fashioned like that.’

  ‘Archie’s old-fashioned too,’ I said brightly.

  ‘I know, and I really like that about him, but I’m not an idiot, Lucy, I know he’s into you.’

  ‘No he’s not.’

  ‘He is,’ she said, sitting up in her seat and leaning towards me. ‘He shaved off his beard for you. He even cut off all his lovely hair. That’s why I was so pissed off with you that day. He did it because he thought it would make you like him more.’

  ‘That’s not true,’ I lied. ‘Archie told me he was lonely and I was just trying to help him meet someone. I thought if I tidied him up a bit more, women would find him attractive.’

  ‘But I found him attractive just as he was.’

  ‘I didn’t know that, Sally. I wish I had.’

  The waiter appeared again, this time bringing the main courses. He looked quizzically at Archie’s empty chair, but placed a bowl of prawn chow mein at his setting anyway. Sally prodded her Schezuan chicken with a chopstick and sighed.

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said. ‘Archie doesn’t like me like I like him. He only sees me as the chatterbox sandwich girl.’

  I skewered a mushroom with my chopstick, popped it into my mouth and chewed it slowly as a hundred thoughts swirled around my head. ‘I think he does like you like that,’ I said. ‘He just hasn’t realised it yet.’

  ‘Really?’ Sally stared at me, her eyes wide. ‘You’re not just saying that?’

  ‘No, I think he really does like you. He just needs to realise how much.’

  And he needs to fall out of love with me, I thought, but didn’t say.

  ‘How?’ Sally asked excitedly. ‘How can we make that happen?’

  I shook my head. I had absolutely no idea.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Monday
13th May

  Day Seventeen

  Possible ways to make Archie fall out of love with me:

  1) Gorge on cream cakes until grossly obese, then sit on him

  2) Cut off all my hair, including eyelashes and eyebrows. Grow leg hair and ask him to stroke it

  3) Laugh hysterically at everything he says, including sad stories

  4) Rub myself up against Brian at every possible opportunity so I smell of BO too

  5) Umm …

  I threw down my pen and paper and leaned back on

  my pillows. All of my suggestions were rubbish. Worse than rubbish, they were stupid and totally impractical. For one, I didn’t have enough time to become grossly obese or grow my leg hair, and the thought of rubbing up against Brian …

  Still, it wasn’t as though I didn’t have time to work on a plan. It was Monday morning, but I didn’t have to go to work. If Archie wasn’t going back to Computer Bitz, neither was I! I swung my legs off the bed and stretched. What I needed was a nice cup of hot coffee to zing my brain cells back into action. That might help.

  I padded down to the kitchen and opened the door.

  What the hell? Were my housemates actually cleaning?

  Claire, her dreads piled up on her head like a pineapple, was kneeling on the floor scrubbing the lino while Brian, looking not entirely uncomfortable in a blue and white checked apron, was washing up.

  I hovered in the doorway and rubbed my eyes. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘It’s my last day,’ said Brian, looking up from the foaming pile of dishes in front of him. ‘And, one way or another, I’m not going to be here tomorrow, so I thought a bit of a clean-up was in order.’

  Claire smiled up at me. ‘I wasn’t going to help, but I had nothing better to do.’

  ‘Wow,’ I said. ‘Anything I can do?’

  ‘You can put the kettle on,’ said Claire, swiping her forehead with her forearm. ‘I think we’re due a break.’

  I tiptoed over her freshly washed floor and picked up the kettle. The whole situation was so utterly surreal I felt unnerved. My housemates were happier than I’d ever seen them, and they were cleaning!

  ‘Are you OK?’ I asked Brian. ‘I thought you’d be nervous today.’

  He shrugged. ‘The situation’s out of my hands now. What will be, will be.’

  ‘So if Troy doesn’t show up tonight, you won’t be gutted about going to heaven?’

  ‘I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t be disappointed,’ he said, swirling a cup under the tap, ‘but if I don’t pass my task I have to accept my fate.’

  Gosh. I couldn’t believe how philosophical he was being. The only reason I’d gone with him to meet Troy was because I thought he’d be devastated if he didn’t become a ghost. Trains were his Dan, he’d said.

  ‘Have you been back to Tooting since I went there with you?’ I asked, reaching into the cupboard for cups.

  He nodded. ‘A couple of times. The first time I went to McDonald’s, Troy wasn’t there, but the next time he turned up on his own. I just sat and read my magazine and pretended I hadn’t seen him.’

  I grinned. ‘Brian, were you playing hard to get?’

  ‘So to speak.’ He leaned out of the way so I could grab the box of teabags. ‘After half an hour he sidled up to me and asked about the different rail journeys I’d done. We talked for ages, well, until his friends walked in. Then he called me a paedophile and jumped away.’

  ‘Did he say anything about meeting us at Paddington tonight?’ I asked casually.

  Brian rinsed a plate under the tap and stacked it on the drainer. ‘No.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘I can but hope, Lucy.’

  ‘Hope’s always a good thing,’ I said, dropping the teabags into the cups. But I wasn’t sure if it was Brian I was reassuring, or myself.

  *

  At seven o’clock I poked my head round Brian’s door. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, his hands pressed between his knees. Unlike the kitchen, his room hadn’t changed a bit; his train posters were still on the walls, his grubby rug in the middle of the room, books and magazines piled up neatly beside his bed.

  ‘Aren’t you going to pack or something?’ I asked, picking up a book and flicking through it.

  Brian shook his head. ‘No need. Whatever happens next, the contents of this room will still disappear.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes, it’ll be like I was never here.’

  ‘That’s really sad,’ I said, and I meant it. Our undead rooms reflected our personalities, they were filled with the things we loved. Someone, somewhere, had already cleared out the flat Brian had lived in when he was alive. There might be a photo of him on someone’s sideboard or mantelpiece, but when his things vanished from the House of Wannabe Ghosts, all trace of his personality would disappear too. He’d really be gone.

  I knew from peering through the window that Dan had kept the house exactly as I’d left it. My cushions still littered the sofa, the rug we’d chosen together lay on the floor and my books were nestled between Dan’s on the shelf. But one day that would change. My things would disappear. And if Anna got her claws into Dan, it would happen much sooner than I wanted it to.

  ‘Are you ready to go, Brian?’ I asked, trying to sound cheery.

  He stood up slowly and wandered around the room, picking up his framed pictures and models of trains one by one, looking at them and setting them down again. He even opened the door to his wardrobe and smiled down at his neatly lined-up sandals.

  ‘I’ve said my goodbyes,’ he said softly. ‘It’s time to move on.’

  ‘Would you mind waiting for me at the front door?’ I asked. ‘I just need to have a quick word with Claire.’

  ‘Come in,’ she called, as I tapped on the door to her room.

  She was sitting cross-legged on her bed, strumming her guitar. She still hadn’t put on any make-up and looked fresh-faced and glowing.

  ‘Brian’s about to go,’ I said, ‘if you’d like to say goodbye.’

  She sighed and placed her guitar on the duvet beside her.

  ‘It’s weird,’ she said. ‘I couldn’t stand the sight of Brian when I first met him … never mind the smell …’

  I giggled.

  ‘But I’m going to miss him.’ She slid off the bed and padded towards me. ‘It feels weird to say goodbye.’

  ‘Claire.’ I put my hand on her shoulder. ‘Could I ask you a favour? There’s something I need you to do for me while I go to Paddington with Brian.’

  She listened patiently as I explained that Anna and Jess were going to be meeting up in the White Horse pub as usual. I described them both and how to get to the pub, and asked her if she’d mind listening in on their conversation.

  ‘Sure,’ she said, opening the bedroom door. ‘No problem. But I’ve got a bit of a crap memory so I won’t be able to remember everything.’

  ‘That’s not important,’ I said. ‘I just need to know what Anna says about Dan.’

  Claire paused in the hallway and looked back. ‘Isn’t that your fiancé? Is there something wrong with him?’

  ‘It’s not Dan I’m worried about,’ I said, giving her a pointed look, ‘it’s Anna.’

  ‘What’s wrong with her?’

  ‘Nothing a sharp slap round the face wouldn’t solve.’

  ‘I see.’ She grinned and I caught a glimpse of the old Claire again, the Claire that would rugby-tackle a skanky blonde to the floor as soon as look at her.

  ‘Not that I’m suggesting you should slap her,’ I said hastily, glancing at my watch. It was quarter past seven and Brian and I really needed to get a move on. ‘Just listen to what they talk about and I’ll explain everything when I get back. I promise.’

  ‘No problem,’ Claire said, squeezing my hand. ‘I’ll just say goodbye to Mr Smelly.’

  I watched as Claire walked down the stairs and launched herself at a surprised-looking Brian.

  ‘I’m really going to miss you,’ s
he said, squeezing him tightly. ‘Promise me you’ll be happy, whatever happens.’

  ‘You too, Claire, you too,’ Brian said, wrapping his arms around her and rubbing her back. ‘I really am very fond of you, you know. Beneath the attitude and the make-up, you’re a truly lovely girl and you deserve to be happy.’

  I hung onto the banister at the bottom of the stairs, my eyes full of tears. When Saint Bob had told me people got too attached to their lives in the House of Wannabe Ghosts, I hadn’t believed him. I should have. Watching Claire and Brian hang onto each other was heart-breaking. They were so mismatched; Brian tall and gangly with his wild, frizzy hair and moustache, and Claire, shorter and squatter, dressed head to toe in black, her woolly hair wrapped around his fingers, but they were the only people in the world who knew what I was going through and how difficult it was. And I would have done anything to make them happy. Anything at all.

  Claire stifled a sob as Brian gently pulled away from her. There were tears running down both their cheeks.

  ‘Are you ready to go, Brian?’ I asked.

  He wiped his face on his sleeve and nodded.

  ‘Are you still OK to go and spy on Anna and Jess?’ I whispered as I gave Claire a hug goodbye.

  She nodded into my shoulder. ‘Of course.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I said, squeezing her tightly. ‘And don’t worry about Brian. I’ll look after him. I promise.’

  The escalator popped us out in the middle of Paddington Station.

  ‘Brian,’ I said. ‘How are you feelin—’

  He didn’t reply. Instead he picked up his pace and stormed towards the bridge, head down, hands deep in his pockets.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ I asked again, hurrying to keep up with him.

  ‘Whatever will be, will be,’ he mumbled, staring at the ground.

  ‘Yes, but—’

  ‘Whatever will be, will be, Lucy.’

  By the time we reached the bridge I was about ready to thump him. Instead I paced from one side to the other while Brian stood in the middle, arms crossed, gazing at the trains that slowly chug-chugged into the station.

  ‘So Troy definitely said he’d come,’ I said as I passed Brian for the fourth time.