Heaven Can Wait

by Cally Taylor

  Oh my God.

  She was planning on staying for the whole bloody meal. Even if I left as planned, Archie and Sally wouldn’t get a single second alone. I was screwed. Completely, utterly, totally screwed. And, more to the point, so was my task. There was only one thing for it. Get very, very drunk.

  By the time the main course arrived, I was already quite tipsy. Sally had switched to soft drinks after her second glass of wine (a decision that earned her a nod of approval from Mrs Humphreys-Smythe) and Archie had insisted on buying ‘the best bottle of red you have’ to share with his grandmother. That left me to finish the white wine all on my own. And finish it off I did. As the others tucked into their meals I pushed my chicken chow mein round my plate with my fork and clutched my wine glass with my other hand.

  ‘Not hungry?’ Archie asked, looking up from his half-finished plate of sweet and sour prawns.

  I narrowed my eyes at him. ‘I’m fine. Thanks for the concern.’

  He swallowed nervously and didn’t say another word to me until the dessert, and my second bottle of wine, had arrived.

  ‘Thirsty, are you?’ commented Mrs Humphreys-Smythe, raising an eyebrow as the waiter filled my glass.

  ‘Yes, thank you,’ I said. I necked half the glass and set it back on the table. It wobbled but didn’t fall over.

  Mrs Humphreys-Smythe stabbed her lychees with her fork and muttered something under her breath.

  ‘Sorry?’ I demanded, spinning round to face her. ‘Was that aimed at me?’

  Sally and Archie both stared at me with alarm. Mrs Humphreys-Smythe pursed her lips and squeezed out the tightest, falsest smile I’d ever seen.

  ‘I said’ – she mouthed the words slowly, as though I was thick – ‘that there are places where people like you can go to get help.’

  ‘People like me? What’s that supposed to mean?’

  My words were coming out slurred and there were three Mrs Humphreys-Smythes where there should have been one. And they all looked evil.

  ‘There’s no shame in admitting that you have a problem, darling,’ she said, fingering the pearls around her neck. ‘It seems to be all the rage these days. Every time you open the paper there’s another Z-list celebrity checking themselves into rehab.’

  ‘So you’re saying I should go to rehab?’ I said, raising an eyebrow.

  ‘It might not be a bad idea,’ she said tightly. ‘From what Archie’s told me, you do rather have a fondness for the grape.’

  ‘Well, from what Archie’s told me, you should bugger off into an old people’s home and let him live his life.’

  Archie, Sally and his gran gasped simultaneously.

  ‘Lucy,’ Archie said. ‘I won’t let you speak to my grandmother like that.’

  ‘Well, someone’s got to.’ I snapped round to face him. ‘You’re obviously too chicken shit to speak up for yourself.’

  ‘Lucy. Stop it.’

  There was a definite warning tone in Archie’s voice but I was too drunk to care. I’d done everything I could to help him and he was still siding with his grandmother instead of me. Sod him. Sod him and sod her and even stupid Sally who was trying, and failing, to hide her giggles behind her hand. I’d failed my task. I’d failed it. After Friday I’d never get to see Dan again or apologise for the argument and Anna would get her claws into him and that would be it, game over. It would be like I never existed. Like I never mattered. Like I was never loved. I lurched forward and grabbed the wine bottle. Fuck Archie and his grandmother. Fuck them all. What did I have left to lose? Nothing.

  ‘I won’t stop it,’ I slurred. ‘It’s time I was honest with you, Archie. It’s time someone told you what a sad loser geek you really are. Do you want to know why no one was interested in you at the speed-dating event? Because you’re dull. Your life is dull, everything you talk about is dull. You’re just dull, dull, dull.’

  I was being unfair and horribly, horribly cruel but, even though I didn’t believe what I was saying, I couldn’t help myself. In that moment I blamed Archie for everything that had happened to me, every failure I’d suffered, every mistake I’d made, every night I’d cried myself to sleep.

  ‘Lucy, please,’ Archie said, placing his hand on mine.

  I flinched and slapped his arm away with all the drunken strength I had. He recoiled and rubbed his arm, a look of shock on his face.

  ‘I think it’s time you left, young lady,’ said Archie’s grandmother, putting down her fork. ‘You’ve embarrassed yourself quite enough for one evening.’

  ‘Oh yeah, you think so, do you?’ I turned round to face her. ‘Well, I’ve got news for you, Granny Posh Arse. I’m not done yet. Why don’t we talk a bit more about you, not that we haven’t talked about you enough already this evening. Oh, so you love classical music. How marvellous. And you think the version of Swan Lake with the male swans is atrocious. Oh, quel dom-mage. But let’s keep talking about you. Let’s talk about the fact that the only thing that makes you happy is making your grandson as miserable as you, shall we?’

  Then I winced. Archie had stood up and was gripping the top of my arm. His entire face was red and he was shaking.

  ‘That’s enough, Lucy,’ he said. Not only that, but the entire restaurant was looking at our table. ‘I want you to leave.’

  I tried to shake him off, but he was stronger than he looked.

  ‘What if I don’t want to leave?’ I said.

  ‘Just leave.’ He looked me straight in the eye and didn’t look away. ‘Now.’

  Two waiters suddenly appeared at our table.

  ‘Is everything OK?’ one asked.

  ‘Everything is fine,’ I said, glaring at Archie. ‘I was just leaving.’

  He released his grip on my arm and stepped back. The entire restaurant was silent. I reached down to pick up my bag.

  ‘I’ll be going now,’ I slurred, throwing my bag over my shoulder and hitting myself in the side of the head. ‘Thank you all for a delightful evening.’

  As I swayed towards the exit, one of the waiters scuttled ahead of me and held open the door. I squinted towards my escape route and tried to focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

  ‘What a nasty piece of work,’ said Archie’s grandmother, loudly. ‘An alcoholic and a foul-mouthed tramp. I told you she was dirt, Archie, I did warn you.’

  I lurched round and stumbled back towards the table. ‘Say that again?’

  Archie’s grandmother smiled beatifically. ‘I think you heard me the first time.’

  I smiled back at her. ‘I just wanted to double-check. Before I did this—’

  I’m not sure when she started screaming – as I reached for her glass of red wine or when I raised it above her head – but she was definitely screaming as it splashed onto her horrible old face and dripped down her cheeks.

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Wednesday 15th May

  Day Nineteen

  I called Archie fifteen times on Wednesday morning. Fifteen times, each trill boring into my hungover brain, and he still refused to talk to me.

  Mrs Humphreys-Smythe answered the first time I rang, but I was too mortified to say anything, not even when she said, ‘You can be silent all you like, but I know it’s you, and I know why you’re ringing. You can forget about seeing or talking to Archie ever again. He’s disgusted by your behaviour last night. Absolutely disgusted. Vile, Miss Brown. That’s what you are: vile, and as common as muck.’

  What could I say to that? How could I even begin to stand up for myself? I couldn’t, because she was right. I’d been really, really cruel to Archie. She, on the other hand, had deserved everything I’d said, but I’d gone too far when I threw red wine over her. I knew Archie would never be able to forgive me for that, but I still wanted to say sorry. There were only two more days until my time was up and Saint Bob would summon me back to limbo. I couldn’t leave without apologising. I just couldn’t.

  Claire found me in the kitchen, my hands wrapped around a cold cup
of tea.

  ‘It’s my last day,’ she trilled as she jumped into the chair opposite me, ‘and I can’t decide how to spend it. There’s no point trying to complete my task. I haven’t seen my guitar pupil in weeks. I’m tempted to spend the whole day making Keith’s life a misery, but then again I could just get absolutely slaughtered instead. I don’t imagine they have snakebite and black up in heaven, do they? Lucy … Lucy … are you OK?’

  I shook my head. My mouth was so dry my tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth.

  ‘How was your dinner last night?’ Claire asked excitedly. ‘Did Archie and Sally fall in love with each other? Have you passed your task?’

  I took a sip of cold tea and unglued my tongue. ‘I totally screwed up.’

  ‘How?’ She twirled an errant dreadlock around her finger and grinned at me. ‘I’m sure it can’t be as bad as you think.’

  ‘It’s worse.’

  ‘Oh shut up. You’re such a drama queen sometimes, Lucy. Screwed up in Lucy language probably means you spilt a bit of wine down your front while Sally laughed hysterically at something Archie said.’

  ‘I didn’t spill any wine,’ I said, running my finger over a coffee stain on the table. ‘I threw some at someone.’

  Claire laughed. ‘Fuck off! That’s something I’d do, not you. So who did you allegedly throw wine over?’

  I closed my eyes. ‘Archie’s gran.’

  ‘Shit.’ She sucked in her breath like a builder quoting for a big job. ‘You’re kidding? You’re not kidding, are you? I can tell by the look on your face. What happened?’

  ‘It’s a long story,’ I said, tipping a drop of tea onto the stain and rubbing it in, ‘but the short version is that I massively fucked up and now Archie won’t talk to me. My task is over, Claire. I screwed it up.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’ she asked.

  I shook my head. ‘I don’t know. What can I do? I can’t force Archie to talk to me, and I can’t go round and see him because I’ve got no idea where he lives. All I can do now is to try and stop Anna from telling Dan how she feels about him tonight. If I can just save him from her, at least I’ll have done something.’

  ‘Then I’ll help you,’ Claire said, clutching my hand. ‘Sod Keith Krank and getting pissed. Let’s stop that bitch from getting her claws into your boyfriend.’

  It was dark as we walked down Anna’s street and approached her house. It was alive with thumping house music and multi-coloured light streamed from the windows. Beautiful, trendy people spilled out of the front door and milled around on the patio, chain-smoking and drinking. A thousand years ago I would have been at that party too. I’d have been knocking back Anna’s homemade cocktails and jumping around to the tunes. Dan would be there too, grinning at me from across the room as the party bore chewed his ear off. By the end of the night we’d both be drunk and exhausted and we’d throw our arms around each other and stumble into a taxi, talking nineteen to the dozen all the way home. Then we’d fall into bed, laughing and giggling and, if we still had the energy, we’d make lazy love before finally passing out.

  ‘Looks like a shit party,’ Claire said as we parked ourselves on the low wall outside Anna’s next-door neighbour’s house.

  No one in Anna’s garden gave us a second glance. They were either too pissed or too self-involved to notice the dumpy goth girl and her brunette friend.

  ‘What if Dan and Anna don’t come into the garden?’ I whispered. ‘As soon as I set foot inside the house she’ll spot me and I’ll be thrown out on my ear.’

  ‘I could go in,’ Claire suggested. ‘I don’t know what Dan looks like, but I’d recognise Anna. Conniving bitch.’

  ‘Thanks for the offer,’ I said, staring at the door. ‘I’ve just realised, Dan will be out soon enough. Anna doesn’t allow smoking in her house.’

  Claire reached into her black patent record bag and pulled out a packet of fags.

  ‘Talking of which,’ she grinned. ‘May as well smoke this little lot. Can’t imagine there’s a roaring trade in tobacco in heaven.’

  She chain-smoked her way through four fags and was just about to light her fifth, when I gasped and pointed at the door. A tall, dark-haired man was fumbling in his jeans back pocket with one hand as he slugged whisky from a bottle with the other.

  I nudged Claire. ‘That’s Dan.’

  She peered through the smoky haze that surrounded us. ‘He looks pissed,’ she said.

  Almost on cue, Dan tripped over his feet as he stepped down onto the patio and only managed to stop himself from falling flat on his face by grabbing the arm of a random bloke nearby.

  ‘Sorry,’ he shouted, righting himself. ‘My sincere apologies. Sorry. Sorry.’

  The bloke shook Dan off and said something I couldn’t hear. I watched as Dan stumbled through the crowd, lurching against them and spilling their drinks as he puffed on a cigarette. When he finally reached the wall he collapsed onto it, lying sprawled out on his back.

  ‘Dan,’ a female voice called. ‘Dan, are you out here?’

  Anna, resplendent in a tight black bodice, skinny jeans and ridiculously high heels, appeared in the doorway.

  ‘Dan!’ she called again. ‘Has anyone seen Dan?’

  ‘He’s over there,’ someone called, pointing towards the wall. ‘I think he might need rescuing.’

  ‘Then I’m just the girl for the job.’

  I looked at Claire. Her eyes were narrowed and she was sitting up straight, her entire body rigid as she watched Anna sashay through the crowd towards Dan.

  ‘Shall I thump her?’ she hissed. ‘I would you know, if you wanted me to.’

  I shook my head. ‘I already tried that. Didn’t stop her.’

  ‘You did what?’ Claire stared at me, her cigarette dangling from her fingers. ‘You’re kidding me.’

  ‘I’ll tell you about it later. Long story.’

  She inched across the wall, away from me and grinned. ‘Should I be scared of you?’

  ‘Shhh,’ I said, holding up a hand. ‘Dan’s saying something.’

  Dan, still prostrate on top of the wall, was staring up at Anna. She was bent over him, stroking his hair from his face.

  ‘Are you an angel?’ he cried. ‘Are you a blonde angel come to save me?’

  Anna’s hair fell over her eyes as she leaned forward and whispered something in his ear. Dan found whatever she said hugely funny and only stopped laughing long enough to take another messy slug at his bottle of whisky. I’d never seen him so drunk before. Merry, yes, but he was absolutely slaughtered. His face was flushed pink and his eyes were half-closed. The bottoms of his jeans were dark with mud or dirt and he looked like he hadn’t showered or changed his clothes for days.

  ‘Save me, Angel!’ he shouted again. A crowd of people standing nearby jumped, and stared at him. ‘Save me from this cruel, cruel world.’

  Anna smiled, first at Dan, and then at their audience. She was clearly delighted by all the attention.

  ‘Would this help?’ she said, raising her voice so everyone could hear her.

  My heart was in my mouth as she leant over Dan again and kissed him on the forehead.

  Dan shook his head. ‘No. Still damned.’

  ‘Then how about this?’

  Anna kissed him on his cheek, leaving a scarlet lip print behind. Dan shook his head so hard he nearly fell off the wall.

  ‘Lucy,’ Claire whispered, grinding her fag out under the heel of her boot. ‘I don’t like this. I’m going to stop them.’

  ‘Claire, don’t,’ I said as she stood up. ‘Don’t. We’ve both had final warnings from Bob. Claire, stop!’

  I grabbed at her hand but she shook me off.

  ‘I’ve got nothing to lose,’ she said, straightening her tutu. ‘I’m going to fail my task anyway, so it doesn’t matter what I do now.’

  I watched, frozen to the wall, as she strode towards Anna and Dan, her hands clenched into fists. Anna, totally unaware of the approaching goth girl, fli
cked back her hair and looked from Dan to her enraptured audience and back again.

  ‘How about this?’ she said.

  The expression on her face when she looked down at Dan made my stomach turn. It was tender and gentle. She looked like a woman in love.

  ‘Don’t,’ Claire screamed as Anna leaned forward and kissed Dan hard on the mouth. ‘Dan, don’t! Lucy still loves you. She loves you. She’s here.’

  There was a second, a horribly, horribly long second when time seemed to stand still and everyone froze. Anna and Dan were locked at the lips, his fingers in her hair. Claire was a fury in black, her blood-red fingers poised just above Anna’s head. The crowd, drinks halfway to their mouths and cigarettes dangling in their fingers, stared, open-mouthed. Then my heart thumped in my chest and Anna and Dan, still wrapped together, tumbled onto the patio. Claire was shouting and pounding the air with her fists but no words were coming out of her mouth. The crowd stared at her, still frozen in their tight, shocked groups.

  Dan was the first to his feet.

  ‘What did you say?’ he shouted at Claire. ‘What did you fucking say?’

  Her lips moved. Nothing came out. She swallowed and her lips moved again. Silence. Dan lurched forwards and tried to grab at her, but she was too fast for him and stepped away as he crumpled against the wall.

  ‘Why would you say that about Lucy?’ he said, his voice breaking as he said my name. ‘Why would you say something like that to me?’

  Now Anna was up on her feet, hair ruffled and her lipstick smudged. She threw a protective arm around Dan and pointed a manicured finger in Claire’s direction.

  ‘You have five seconds to disappear or I’m calling the police.’

  Claire put her hands on her hips and faced up to Anna. Oh God. She looked like she was squaring up for a fight. I jumped off the wall and took a step towards Claire. Our eyes met and the rage on her face drained away.