Heaven Can Wait

by Cally Taylor

  ‘Nothing’s for definite, Lucy,’ he replied calmly.

  ‘But he sounded enthusiastic, right?’ I glanced at my watch. It was eight o’clock. Where the hell was Troy?

  ‘What does enthusiasm sound like?’ Brian replied, shrugging his shoulders.

  Good God. Was he deliberately trying to wind me up? Why wasn’t he showing any emotion? If I was about to find out if I’d passed my task or not, I’d be pulling my hair out and going mental.

  I looked at my watch again. It was ten past eight and there was still no sign of Troy. The more I thought about it, the more unlikely it seemed that he’d actually show up. I turned round at the sound of footsteps behind us.

  ‘Brian,’ I said softly, tapping him on the shoulder. ‘Troy’s here.’

  He whipped round so quickly my hand flew off his shoulder and smacked against the bridge.

  ‘Troy,’ he said, holding out a shaking hand. ‘So glad you could make it.’

  Troy, his dark-blue hoodie pulled over his head, merely nodded at Brian’s outstretched hand. ‘All right, man.’

  ‘I’m very good, thank you,’ said Brian, his hand slowly drifting back to his side.

  Troy looked me up and down. ‘All right?’

  I nodded. ‘Good thanks.’

  There was an awkward pause as we all stared at each other, unsure what was supposed to happen next.

  ‘So I read that magazine you gave me, man,’ Troy said, finally breaking the silence. ‘Had to hide it behind Loaded like, so my mum didn’t clock it, but yeah, I read it all.’

  Brian raised his eyebrows. ‘What did you think?’

  ‘Some good stuff in there, man,’ Troy said, nodding enthusiastically, his hoodie slipping even further over his eyes. ‘I was reading all about trains in Peru. Apparently there are five switchbacks on the Cuzco to Machu Picchu route.’

  ‘El Zigzag,’ Brian beamed. ‘I’ve been on it.’

  Troy’s mouth fell open. ‘You’re kidding?’

  ‘I went ten years ago. The view on the return journey from Machu Picchu was spectacular. At night the whole city was illuminated.’

  ‘Oh, man. I’d love to check that.’

  They continued to discuss trains, their hands a blur as they talked. I couldn’t help but grin. After a couple of minutes I left them to it and wandered back through the station and sat down in a café. I flicked through the pages of a magazine that had been left on my table but I couldn’t concentrate. My head was full of questions. Would Troy admit to being a trainspotter? What would Claire overhear? Were Dan and Anna a couple? Was I too late? By nine o’clock I couldn’t bear it any more. I deserted my coffee and headed back towards the bridge. Brian and Troy hadn’t moved an inch and were still deep in conversation. Neither of them noticed me as I inched nearer.

  ‘So,’ Brian said, in an unusually high voice, his hands in his pockets. ‘Would you say you were a railway enthusiast then?’

  I stopped walking and stood completely still, still a good couple of feet away from them. Troy shifted from one foot to the other. The bridge was completely empty apart from the three of us. I held my breath. Please say you are, I prayed. Please say you are.

  Troy cleared his throat. ‘Well yeah, but if you say a word to any of my mates you’re dead.’

  The smile on Brian’s face was extraordinary. It stretched from ear to ear and his eyes sparkled.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t quite hear that. Could you say it again?’

  Troy scratched his head. ‘You deaf, man? I said yeah, I’m a train enfusiast. I’m not gonna say it again.’

  Brian reached out and wrapped his arms around Troy.

  ‘Thank you!’ he cried. ‘Thank you, thank you, thank you!’

  ‘Get off me, man,’ Troy said, looking startled and swiping at Brian’s arms. ‘Don’t be gay.’

  When Brian finally let go of him he straightened his sweatshirt, pulled his hood back up and looked down at his mobile.

  ‘I’ve got to go now,’ Troy said. ‘I’m meeting my girl. Thanks for the number of that train club, Brian. I’ll give ’em a ring.’

  ‘You do that,’ Brian said, still beaming from ear to ear. ‘You’ll love it. I promise.’

  ‘You gonna be at their meeting?’ Troy asked.

  ‘No.’ Brian shook his head. ‘I’m going away, for a long time.’

  ‘Anywhere nice?’

  Brian grinned. ‘Very nice.’

  ‘All right then. Have a good one. See you.’

  He gave Brian a half salute and sloped off across the bridge, his head down, mobile tucked between his hood and his ear. I waited until he’d disappeared round the corner and then enveloped Brian in a bear hug.

  ‘You did it!’ I squealed. ‘You only bloody did it, Brian!’

  ‘I did! I did do it!’ He lifted me off my feet and spun me around and around. ‘And I couldn’t have done it without you, Lucy Brown.’

  ‘So what happens now?’ I asked, wobbling slightly as he set me back on my feet. ‘How do you become a ghost?’

  ‘You still haven’t read your manual, have you, Lucy?’ Brian shook his head despairingly.

  Just as I was about to reply, two tall, slim men in grey suits and dark sunglasses stepped onto the bridge. They walked side-by-side, each step in sync until they reached us, then they stopped.

  ‘Brian Worthing?’ said the one nearest Brian.

  I looked at Brian with alarm but he looked unfazed.

  ‘Yes,’ he said.

  ‘Phone call for you from Saint Bob,’ said the other man, handing him a mobile phone.

  ‘Yes,’ Brian said, holding it to his ear. ‘Yes, yes, that’s right. Yes, yes I would. Yes, thank you, Bob. Good luck to you too.’

  The two men watched, completely expressionless, as Brian ended the call and snapped the mobile shut. The one nearest me held out a hand for the phone, put it in his pocket and nodded at his companion. They turned stiffly and walked back the way they’d come.

  ‘Well?’ I demanded, hopping from foot to foot as Brian beamed at me.

  ‘That was Bob,’ he said. ‘I get to become a ghost.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Very—’ Brian looked down at his hand. His age spots and freckles had disappeared and his skin was as pale and waxy as a church candle. ‘Soon.’

  ‘Quick,’ he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me along the bridge. ‘We have to go somewhere private. We don’t have much time.’

  We ran, hand in hand, down one of the platforms, only stopping when we reached the men’s toilets. Brian pushed the door open an inch and peered round it.

  ‘I can’t go in there,’ I squealed as he pulled me inside.

  ‘It’s OK,’ he said, ducking down and squinting under the cubicles. ‘There’s no one else in here.’

  I stood in the centre of the small room and tried not to touch anything. The tiles were yellow and grubby and the smell from the urinals was indescribably gross. I pinched my nose and grimaced at Brian. Under the harsh glare of the strip lighting he looked almost transparent.

  ‘Brian!’ I gasped. ‘You’re disappearing.’

  ‘That’s what happens when you become a ghost,’ he said, his moustache splaying across his top lip as he grinned at me. ‘Sorry to drag you in here, Lucy, but the manual specifically says you cannot become a ghost unless you’re out of public view.’

  I stared at him, my eyes wide. ‘You’re not kidding. Your entire forearm is almost see-through.’

  ‘Give me a hug then,’ he said, opening his one and a half arms wide, ‘while I’ve still got time.’

  I wrapped my arms tightly around him, but he was no longer the firm, warm Brian I’d got used to. It was like hugging a sponge or a chocolate mousse. He didn’t even smell of BO any more. He didn’t smell of anything at all. He really was going to leave us.

  ‘I’ll miss you, Brian,’ I said. ‘I’m not sure how I’d have got through this without you.’

  My hair moved as though a light wind was blowing
through it, and I realised Brian was trying to stroke my head.

  ‘You’re stronger than you think, Lucy,’ he said, his voice a whisper. ‘You’re a lovely girl and Dan is a very, very lucky man to have someone like you love him. If I could live my life over again, if I could be young again, I’d wish for a woman like …’

  The word ‘you’ at the end of his sentence faded to a warm ‘ooohh’ in my ear and I was hugging thin air. I took a step back. Brian’s shape shimmered in the air like a faded photographic negative, his face just about visible, a peaceful look in his eyes, a small smile on his lips.

  ‘Be happy, Brian,’ I whispered. ‘Be happy.’

  He nodded and I blinked back my tears. ‘Go, Brian. Go. I’ll be OK, I promise. Thank you for everything.’

  He stared at me for a few more seconds, then took a step towards the urinals, walked through the wall and disappeared. I was still staring at the tiles when the door flew open and a young man in a train conductor’s outfit burst into the room.

  ‘Wrong toilets, love,’ he said, looking me up and down. ‘The Ladies’ is next door.’

  I returned to the House of Wannabe Ghosts to find Claire sitting at the newly cleaned kitchen table, a cup of tea in front of her, her head in her hands.

  ‘Are you OK?’ I asked, gently patting her dreadlock pineapple. ‘Don’t be upset, Claire. Brian passed his task and became a ghost. I’ve never seen him look so happy.’

  Claire looked up at me as I pulled out the chair opposite her and sat down.

  ‘It’s not Brian,’ she said, fiddling with her nose ring, ‘although I’ll really miss him.’

  ‘Then what is it?’

  ‘It’s your friend Anna,’ she said, looking me in the eye and then looking away sharply.

  I felt sick. ‘What about Anna?’

  ‘Do you want the good news or the bad news?’

  ‘The good news,’ I said, clasping my hands together and pressing them against my lips.

  ‘Anna told Jess she hasn’t slept with Dan yet,’ Claire said. ‘They haven’t even kissed.’

  The table squealed across the kitchen tiles as I launched myself at Claire and hugged her tightly. Yes! Yes! Yes! Anna had lied when she’d shouted at me in the tube station and told me Dan was a great shag. Oh thank God.

  ‘And the bad news?’ I asked nervously, sitting back in my seat.

  ‘She said she wants to spend the rest of her life with Dan and she doesn’t care if he doesn’t want kids. She just wants to be with him.’

  ‘What?’ I said, all the hairs on my arms standing up. ‘She’s lying. She wants him as a sperm donor. She’s desperate for kids, it’s all she’s wanted since she split up with Julian.’

  ‘But, Lucy, she said she’s never loved anyone like she loves him,’ Claire said softly, ‘and she sounded like she meant it. She told Jess she’s invited him to her birthday party on Wednesday and she’s going to make a move on him and then tell him how she feels.’

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘No, that’s not true. It’s not true.’

  I reached out for Claire’s hand but my fingers were shaking so badly I knocked over her mug, splashing hot tea all over the table, all over me, and then everything went black.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Tuesday 14th May

  Day Eighteen

  What the hell? Why was Claire in bed with me? I closed my eyes and opened them again. Nope, she was still there, her dreadlocked head on the pillow beside me, the duvet pulled up around her shoulders. Her eyes were open and she was staring at me.

  ‘Are you OK, Lucy?’ she whispered, brushing my hair off my face.

  ‘I don’t know,’ I said, glancing around warily, half-expecting Brian, Archie and Sally to pop out from the bottom of the duvet. ‘Why are you in my bed?’

  ‘I was really worried about you last night,’ she said, propping herself up on one elbow. ‘After I told you about Anna you blacked out, fell off your chair and hit your head on the floor. You didn’t come round for ages and when you did, you were talking gibberish.’

  ‘What did I say?’

  ‘Dan and Anna’s names over and over again. You tried to leave the house so I rugby-tackled you and sat on you until you agreed to go to bed instead.’

  I flipped onto my back and groaned. ‘Is that why my ribs ache?’

  ‘Sorry about that.’ She grinned nervously. ‘I just didn’t want you to blow your chance of becoming a ghost by communicating with Dan again. That’s why I’m in your bed. I didn’t want to risk you running off.’

  I sighed. ‘Thanks, Claire, you did the right thing.’

  ‘Are you sure? You’re not angry with me?’

  ‘I’m not. I promise.’

  I stared up at the ceiling, my mind working overtime. I had three days left until my twenty-one days were over and I had two choices:

  1) Give up and go to heaven

  2) Fight until the end

  ‘Lucy,’ Claire said. ‘Are you sure you’re OK?’ ‘I’m fine,’ I groaned as I sat up and peeled back the duvet. ‘Honestly. And to show you there are no hard feelings, I’ll even make you a coffee. I just have to make a phone call first.’

  It was 8 p.m. when I opened the door to Kung Po’s restaurant and confirmed to a hassled-looking waitress that I’d booked a table for three. She showed me my seat, took my order for drinks, then set a bottle of wine and three glasses in front of me. I sipped at it gratefully, my stomach churning with nerves. It was my last chance to complete my task.

  ‘Hi, Lucy,’ said a cheery voice beside me. ‘You look a million miles away.’

  Sally pulled back a chair and sat down. She was wearing a Hello Kitty T-shirt and jeans and her hair was tied in two yellow plaits on either side of her head. She looked impossibly cute and I felt sure Archie would find her irresistible. At least, I hoped so.

  ‘Glad you could make it,’ I said, smiling at her across the table. ‘Do you want some wine?’

  As I reached for the bottle, she glanced at the door.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ I said, filling her glass to the top. ‘Archie will be here.’

  ‘Am I that obvious?’ she asked, looking back at me, her cheeks pink.

  ‘We’re just three friends having dinner together,’ I said, sounding more confident than I felt. ‘No pressure.’

  ‘No pressure,’ she repeated and took a large gulp of her wine.

  Convincing Sally there was no pressure was one thing, convincing myself was another. Everything rested on the dinner going well. Sally was too nervous and old-fashioned to make a move on Archie and he had no idea who he wanted, so my plan was to get them together, get the conversation going, then make my excuses and go. After that, I’d just have to cross my fingers and leave fate to do its best.

  ‘Lucy,’ Sally said, holding up her wine glass. ‘I propose a toast.’

  ‘Isn’t it a bit early for that?’ I asked, glancing at the door. ‘Shouldn’t we wait for Archie to turn up first?’

  ‘No,’ she said, shaking her head, her plaits flying everywhere, ‘this is a toast for the girls.’

  ‘OK …’

  She waited for me to lift my glass into the air, then bumped her glass against mine. ‘Cheers!’ she said as they chinked together. ‘Here’s to women, and getting our hearts’ desires.’

  ‘To our hearts’ desires,’ I said, knocking back my wine.

  Sally took a sip of her drink and peered at me over the top of the glass.

  ‘What?’ I said. ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’

  ‘You’re a bit of a mystery, Lucy Brown,’ she said. ‘You never really talk about yourself. You talk about work and Archie and you spent the whole afternoon at the Star Trek convention cracking jokes, but I don’t know anything about you.’

  I shrugged. ‘I’m just a bit private, I guess.’

  ‘You’re not that private,’ she said, propping her chin on her hands and gazing at me. ‘When I made the toast and said that bit about getting our hearts’ desires, there w
as a strange look in your eyes.’

  ‘What kind of look?’

  ‘A desperate one.’

  I reached for the wine bottle. Was it really that obvious how desperate I was to find my way back to Dan?

  ‘It’s nothing,’ I said, filling up my glass. ‘I was just thinking about something else.’

  ‘Or someone else?’

  ‘Actually, I—’

  I was saved from having to finish because the bell above the restaurant door chimed and we both craned round to see who’d just walked in.

  ‘Who’s that with Archie?’ Sally mouthed, looking back at me.

  ‘That,’ I said, rising from my seat to greet the woman who was stalking towards us, ‘is Archie’s gran.’

  ‘Isn’t this lovely,’ Archie said as he flipped open his menu. ‘My three favourite girls, all in one place.’

  Sally grinned and fiddled with her napkin. Mrs Humphreys-Smythe gave me a look of unveiled contempt.

  ‘Wasn’t it nice of my grandson,’ she said, turning her attention to Sally, ‘to invite his lonely old gran out for a spot of dinner?’

  ‘You’re not old,’ Sally said, sitting up straight and dropping her napkin. ‘I thought you were Archie’s mum when you walked in.’

  ‘But not on closer inspection, I imagine,’ said Mrs Humphreys-Smythe, narrowing her eyes.

  ‘Oh no, not at all,’ said Sally, ‘you look even younger up close.’

  ‘Well, thank you.’ She rewarded Sally with a genuinely warm smile. ‘It’s always nice to meet such a well-brought-up young lady.’

  Sally giggled and hid her face in her menu, just as Archie closed his with a slap.

  ‘So,’ he said, glancing round the table, completely oblivious to the glacial atmosphere between me and his gran, ‘are we all ready to order?’

  I gave him a look.

  ‘Is that a yes?’ he said, completely misreading my expression. ‘Everyone yes? Grandmother? Sally? Marvellous.’

  Archie nodded to the waiter who hurried over to our table and hovered by his elbow.

  ‘Grandmother?’ Archie said. ‘Are you ready to order?’

  Mrs Humphreys-Smythe proceeded to harangue the waiter with questions about the menu. Was there monosodium glutamate in absolutely everything? Could she have the mixed rice but without the egg (she didn’t react well to eggs)? Was the chicken all breast meat (she couldn’t abide thigh)? Was the house special very spicy (a little spice was nice, but not too much)? When she’d finally run out of questions she ordered a starter, a main course, a dessert and a coffee.