Heaven Can Wait Page 13

  ‘You’re cooking, Brian?’

  ‘Well yes, after you kindly offered to help me with my task, I thought the least I could do was cook you dinner to say thank-you.’

  Damn. I’d completely forgotten the conversation we’d had at Paddington Station. I’d been so involved in my own task, I hadn’t given Brian’s a passing thought.

  ‘But I haven’t done anything yet, Brian,’ I said, feeling horribly guilty.

  ‘It’s a thank-you in advance then. What do you fancy?’

  Oh, he was such a sweet man. Still smelly, but definitely sweet.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Brian,’ I said. ‘But I’ve already got plans for tonight.’

  There was a pause. He wasn’t expecting me to invite him along, was he? I’d learned from my Keith Krank experience that talking and eavesdropping simultaneously was virtually impossible.

  ‘Could we do dinner tomorrow night instead?’ I suggested.

  My housemate ummmed so loudly into the phone I had to hold it away from my ear.

  ‘Brian? Does that sound OK?’

  ‘Ah, yes, yes,’ he finally said.

  I looked at my watch. It was nearly six o’clock. I had to get moving. ‘See you later then.’

  ‘OK,’ he sighed.

  It was cold outside and I pulled my jacket tightly around me as I trudged up the hill to the White Horse. What if Anna and Jess didn’t show up? What if they went to a different pub? If that happened I’d never discover what Dan’s reaction to the Keith Krank incident was. I’d fallen into his arms, for God’s sake. I had to know how he felt about that.

  I felt sick with nerves as I pushed open the door to the pub and walked up to the bar.

  ‘White wine, please,’ I said, before the barman had chance to speak. I really didn’t fancy a protracted discussion about what had happened the previous weekend.

  When he turned his back and reached down to the fridge I glanced around the room. Anna and Jess were sitting at exactly the same table they’d sat at a week before. This time Anna had her back to me, but I could see Jess’s small, smiley face. She was frowning and nibbling at her fingernails. What on earth was Anna telling her?

  ‘Three pounds fifty please,’ the barman said, sliding my drink towards me.

  I practically threw the money at him. I had to find out what was going on.

  ‘It was awful,’ Anna said as I quietly pulled out a seat at the table behind them and sat down. ‘The poor woman was being totally abused by this drunken twat. Dan had to step in.’

  Yes! She was talking about me. I shuffled my weight so I was on the edge of my seat and leaned towards them, trying my best to look casual.

  ‘Really?’ Jess said, her eyes wide. ‘What happened then?’

  ‘The girl fell against Dan and he put his arm around her and tried to comfort her, but she just pushed him away and ran off.’

  ‘No!’ Jess said, enthralled. ‘Then what happened? Did the twat follow her?’

  ‘Nah, he was too pissed to get back on his stool, never mind run anywhere. The barman went to look for the girl and, when he couldn’t find her, he threw the twat out.’

  Jess nodded. ‘Glad to hear it. It sounds awful.’

  There was pause. Anna was probably sipping her drink.

  ‘You haven’t heard the weirdest bit,’ she finally said. ‘Afterwards, Dan told me he thought the girl was the same one who’d knocked at his door earlier in the week.’

  ‘What girl?’

  Me, I felt like saying. It was me, Jess.

  ‘That’s just it,’ Anna said. ‘He’d never seen her before. She just turned up outside his house and was staring at him through the window. Then she banged and banged on the door until he opened it.’

  That’s a bit of an exaggeration, I thought. I only rang the doorbell once the first time. And I didn’t stare. I gazed lovingly.

  ‘And then what happened?’ Anna had Jess on the end of a hook.

  ‘Well,’ Anna said, running a hand through her hair, ‘the girl tried to speak to him but nothing came out. Apparently she was mute.’

  ‘And Dan was sure it was the same girl who fell against him in the pub last weekend?’ Jess asked.

  ‘Pretty sure, yeah.’

  ‘Did you hear her speak?’

  ‘That’s the weird thing.’ Anna lowered her voice and I craned to hear. ‘Neither of us did, but she must have spoken to the drunken twat.’

  ‘So why pretend to Dan that she was mute?’

  ‘No idea. He thinks she’s weird.’

  And so will you if you turn around and realise Weird, Mute Girl is sitting right behind you, I thought, suddenly feeling conspicuous. I rummaged around in my pockets until I found a hair band. It was twisted around a lump of tissue and a chewing gum wrapper. Lovely. I unpicked it hurriedly and tied back my hair. Now all I needed was a hat, a false nose and some sunglasses.

  ‘So how is Dan?’ Jess asked.

  Anna sighed. ‘Well, he wasn’t too great, to be honest, not when we first got to the pub. But he perked up a bit after the twat was kicked out. I made him laugh so much at one point that he snorted beer out of his nose.’

  Nice, I thought, if slightly revolting. Good old Anna. She’d probably told Dan all about her recent dating efforts. They were invariably awful and always raised a laugh (although, according to Anna, were never that funny at the time).

  ‘So,’ Jess said, ‘when are you seeing him again?’

  ‘Actually’ – Anna giggled in a surprisingly schoolgirl-like way – ‘I already did. I invited him round for dinner a couple of nights ago. Nothing fancy, just a bit of chicken tarragon and saffron potatoes with tiramisu for dessert. We had a much more chilled time than in the pub. It was nice, really, really nice.’ She tittered again.

  They’d had dinner and I’d missed it? Damn. Ask what they talked about, Jess, I thought. Ask her if Dan talked about me. I tried to beam my thoughts into my friend’s head, but her psychic skills were obviously having an off day.

  ‘That was nice of you,’ she said instead. ‘I don’t imagine Dan’s been eating well.’

  ‘He hasn’t,’ Anna replied. ‘That’s why I suggested we go out for dinner on Thursday. I thought we’d try the new Thai place that’s opened up in Swiss Cottage.’

  Jess’s face fell. ‘Thursday? Oh, what a shame! Stuart and I have already made plans. We’d have loved to have joined you.’

  ‘That is a shame.’

  How weird. Anna was using her fake voice on Jess. Whenever she lied to someone her voice would become softer, lighter and tilt up at the end of a sentence: I’d heard her use it a hundred times before, particularly with casual acquaintances: ‘I love your new hairstyle. Asymmetrical cuts are all the rage.’ ‘What a beautiful tie-dye skirt.’ ‘Doesn’t yellow suit you.’ But why would she lie to Jess? Didn’t she like her as much as I thought?

  ‘I’ve been worried about Dan and how he bottles things up,’ Jess said, totally oblivious to the fact she’d just been snubbed. ‘He’s not the sort of guy to open up to his male friends, but he’ll talk to women. It’s good he’s talking to you.’

  ‘I know,’ Anna said. ‘That’s what’s so nice about him. He’s got this really sensitive, open side, but he’s a man’s man too. The best of both worlds really. I don’t think Lucy would want him to mourn her for the rest of his life. She’d want him to move on.’

  What? WHAT?! Why would she say that? The shock made me choke on my drink. I grabbed onto the table, unable to breathe or swallow, my mouth full of wine. The urge to cough scratched at the back of my throat and I pressed my lips tightly together. Don’t cough, don’t cough, don’t …

  White wine squirted out of the corners of my mouth and sprayed the back of Anna’s perfectly coiffured head.

  ‘Anna,’ Jess said loudly. ‘I think the woman behind you is choking on something. Smack her on the back, quick!’

  Before Anna had chance to turn round I was sprinting across the pub, my jacket and bag in one hand, the other cov
ering my mouth.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Tuesday 7th May

  Day Eleven

  Even with a mug of coffee in my hands and my duvet around my shoulders, I couldn’t stop shivering. Why on earth had Anna said I’d want Dan to move on and meet someone else? I’d never said that. Not once! And we’d had loads of drunken chats, about all kinds of things.

  Once, in the early hours of the morning after a night out clubbing, Dan and I had a conversation about death. I don’t know what it is about those few hours before the sun comes up that sparks weird conversations, but I suspect it’s a result of the stillness you feel when most of the country is asleep. Anyway, I lit a couple of candles and we lay, fully clothed, on the bed. Dan lit up a cigarette, puffed heavily on it and exhaled with a sigh. I tucked my hands under my head and watched the smoke drift upwards and curl around the paper lightshade.

  Five of us had started the night off in the pub. It was only supposed to be a couple of drinks and then home when the pub shut, but one drink lead to another, and another, and before we knew it, we were discussing which club to go to. Anna had wanted to go on the pull in some cheesy happy house place, but I insisted we go to a place in Camden that played all the indie classics. After a bit of an argument, it went to a vote, and we trooped off to World Headquarters. It was a good night but ended abruptly in the middle of ‘I Wanna Be Adored’ when Jess and Stuart had a screaming row and stormed out of the club. After that, the atmosphere felt flatter than a hedgehog on the M25. Dan and I decided to call a cab, but when we looked for Anna we found her in the corner of the club, her tongue down the throat of some bloke who looked like he hadn’t even left sixth form. She didn’t even come up for air when we told her we were leaving; she just gave us the thumbs-up and waved us away.

  When we reached the flat Dan poured us both a whisky and suggested we chill out on the bed for a bit before we went to sleep.

  ‘Lucy,’ he’d said, putting out his cigarette and lighting another one. ‘Did you know that more people die at 3 a.m. than at any other time in the day?’

  I glanced at the alarm clock. It glowed 02:56.

  ‘Is that true?’

  Dan nodded. ‘Yeah, I read it somewhere. It’s to do with the internal body clock and everything slowing down at that time.’

  I pushed the alarm clock away and rolled over, wrapping an arm around Dan. ‘We’d better stay awake for a bit longer then.’

  Dan rested his cheek against the top of my head. ‘If I died, how long would you wait before you moved on and found someone else?’

  I pulled away and looked up at him; even though he’d shaved before we left the house, there was stubble on his jawline. ‘Where did that come from?’

  Dan shrugged. ‘I dunno. So, go on then, how long would you wait till you moved on?’

  ‘Dan, that’s morbid.’

  ‘No it’s not. It’s just a question.’

  ‘Hmm,’ I said, searching his eyes to work out whether he was messing around or wanted a serious answer. ‘I’d wait at least two years, I reckon.’

  Dan raised his eyebrows. ‘Two whole years? I was thinking more like two weeks.’

  ‘Idiot,’ I said, thumping him hard on the arm.

  Dan rolled onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow. ‘Lucy?’

  ‘Yes, Weird Boy.’

  ‘If anything happened to you …’ He broke off and looked away, his jaw clenching and unclenching, his whole body tense.

  ‘What?’ I said, suddenly feeling nervous. It wasn’t like him to be so intense.

  Dan rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling.

  ‘If anything happened to you, Lucy,’ he said slowly, ‘it would totally destroy me.’

  I stared at him, my heart in my throat, as he raised his cigarette to his lips, inhaled deeply and blew out the smoke in a slow, steady stream. When he turned his head to look at me, I felt a rush of love so violent, so intense, I thought I might pass out. Instead I reached for his hand and squeezed it tightly.

  ‘That’s not going to happen, Dan.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Me dying first,’ I said, a small smile creeping onto my lips. ‘You’re the smoker, remember.’

  ‘Ah yes,’ Dan said, the corners of his eyes crinkling. ‘You do realise I’m going to have to keep smoking for ever now, don’t you?’

  I grinned, grabbed the cigarette out of his fingers and stubbed in out in the ashtray.

  ‘Hey,’ Dan said. ‘Why’d you do that?’

  I rolled onto him and held his beautiful, bemused face in my hands.

  ‘So I could do this,’ I said, and kissed him.

  I pulled the duvet more tightly around my shoulders and hugged my coffee to my chest. What Anna had said made no sense at all, unless – my stomach lurched horribly at the thought – unless Dan had said something to her. I’d heard him tell her he couldn’t feel my presence in the house since I’d died. Maybe he thought that was my way of telling him to move on? Or maybe he believed that I wouldn’t mind if he found someone else because I’d been so pissed off with him when I’d died? I sipped my coffee but the liquid did nothing to warm the chill I felt in my chest. There was no time to lose. I had to complete my task and become a ghost as soon as possible. And that meant finding Archie’s soulmate as quickly as I could.

  I launched my speed-dating plan as soon as I got into the office. I browsed through a couple of London-based websites and picked one running speed-dating events every evening. All I had to do was make sure Archie would show up.

  ‘Archie,’ I said, crouching by his desk.

  He tapped away at his keyboard, seemingly deep in thought.

  ‘Archie!’

  He looked up and flashed me a smile. ‘Yes, Lucy.’

  ‘Are you free tonight?’ I whispered.

  ‘Let me just check.’

  He consulted his electronic personal organiser and spent forever tapping buttons and scribbling on the screen with the stylus thing as I bobbed up and down, waiting for him to answer my question.

  ‘Yes,’ he said, just as I thought my knees were going to buckle under me, ‘unless Grandmother needs me to do something. What have you got planned?’

  Damn. I’d forgotten about his grandmother, but I wasn’t going to let that faze me.

  ‘A speed-dating event,’ I said brightly.

  ‘Tonight?’ His grin faded.

  ‘What’s up? I thought you were up for it? You did say on Sunday afternoon that you’d come.’

  ‘I was, I just, er,’ he mumbled, twisting his beard and staring at his monitor. ‘I just thought I’d have more time to psych myself up before we went speed-dating.’

  ‘And how were you planning on doing that?’

  ‘I’m not sure.’

  ‘Well then,’ I said, reaching across the desk and flicking off his monitor, ‘just ring your grandmother and tell her you’re going out tonight. We shouldn’t be out for more than a couple of hours so it’s not as though you’re going to be home late.’

  ‘I can’t promise anything,’ he said, switching his monitor back on and giving me a look. ‘She might make a fuss.’

  ‘Oh, please,’ I begged. ‘Please do this for me.’

  ‘In that case, Lucy Brown,’ he smiled, ‘I’ll see what I can do.’

  By five o’clock I was jiggling up and down in my seat. Every time an instant message popped up on my screen my heart skipped a beat, but it was always Nigel sending me a link to a ‘funny’ website or Graham checking up on my progress. I hadn’t heard a peep from Archie all afternoon and there was only half an hour of the day left.

  I looked towards the door. Oh – good news, Archie was on the phone. Bad news – he was frowning. Oh please, Archie, I silently begged, please say you’ll still come.

  A sharp jab in my side made me look round. Nigel was staring at me over his glasses, a bemused look on his face.

  ‘Has someone developed a bit of a crush?’ he sniggered.

  ‘What?’


  ‘Bit short for you, isn’t he?’ he said, gesturing over his shoulder with his thumb.

  ‘You think I fancy Archie?’ I asked, horrified.

  ‘Well, you haven’t stopped looking over there all afternoon.’

  ‘That’s because … because … I’ve been waiting for a courier to show up.’

  ‘Really?’ He raised a quizzical eyebrow.

  ‘Yes, really. I’m waiting for a … er … component.’

  ‘What kind of component?’

  ‘It’s for, for …’

  I stared at my screen in desperation. Component? Why the hell did I say that? Everyone knows you can’t blag a geek when it comes to technical stuff. I should have just said I was waiting for an emergency pack of tampons to be delivered. That would have shut him up.

  ‘It’s for …’

  A message envelope popped up on my screen and I almost squealed with relief. It was from Archie.

  ‘One second, Nige,’ I said. ‘I just have to deal with this urgent request from Graham.’

  Hi, Lucy the message began. Good news! I CAN go speed-dating with you tonight (though I still can’t believe I agreed to go in the first place. I blame you for taking advantage of me when I was too tired to think straight!) Anyway, I have to go home first. Can I meet you there? Where/when? A.

  Brilliant! I’d really started to believe he wouldn’t be able to make it.

  That’s excellent, I typed back, we both need to be at the Amber Bar, Poland Street (Soho), at 7.30 p.m. The event starts at 8.00 p.m. Shall I wait for you outside?

  No, Archie typed back. Would be safer for you to wait inside. I might be a bit late, but I’ll definitely be there by 7.45 p.m. That OK?

  I deliberated whether or not I should give him some grooming tips while we were chatting (his beard was looking particularly unkempt today and he was wearing a horrible yellow gamers T-shirt with ‘Ding! Welcome to Level 70’ on the front in red), but I figured even a geek knew how to dress for a date. Besides, I didn’t want to come across as patronising.

  That’s great, I typed back. See you then.