You Had Me at Halo

“He started it,” Holly protested. “You know I’m not so sure Simon’s a nice person. And I don’t think you should be kissing him in such a public place.”

“Yeah, well if I didn’t, he might have punched you.”

“In his dreams,” Holly sniggered.

“What’s got into you?” Gemma demanded. “Simon might have started it, but you were quite eager to carry it on.”

“He was pissing me off. I think it might be a guy thing.”

“Well put a lid on it,” Gemma advised as she got up and smoothed down her skirt. “You’re not here to fight, you’re here to talk to Todd. Anyway, I’d better get back, but try and get rid of Amy Jenkins as soon as you can.”

“Preaching to the converted,” Holly assured her.

“Who’s converted?” Amy demanded as she returned with their drinks. “What was that about?”

“Oh nothing,” Holly lied as she dug into Vince’s satchel. She was sure she’d seen some headache tablets in there before. Her fingers finally found the container and she twisted open the top. With all this deception it was no wonder her head felt fit to explode.

“Hey, those pills are a weird shape. What are they?”

“Huh?” Holly glanced down at the container and realized they weren’t headache tablets at all. Would anything go right for her today?

She read the label. Beta-blockers. They were big as well. Where did Vince get them from? A vet?

“Oh, they’re for my…sinuses.” Holly improvised with a casual shrug.

“I didn’t know you had sinus trouble.”

“I don’t when I take my tablets.”

“Oh, sorry,” Amy said looking relieved. “So I’m going to put some music on. How about a bit of Marilyn Manson to piss everyone off?”

“Sure.” Holly waved her hand in agreement as she tried to work out why Vince would have a container of beta-blockers. Not that she knew what they were, but they sounded bad. Before she could think about it she was interrupted by a loud thud-thud as Amy’s musical choice came hammering out over the speakers.

What a racket. If only someone would do them all a favor and turn it off.

Which was when the music abruptly stopped.

What the—?

Holly spun around to see who had taken umbrage to Marilyn Manson and yanked the cord of the old-fashioned jukebox out from the wall, but no one had moved.

As in no one had moved.

Holly jumped to her feet and ran over to the pool table to where Gemma and Simon were frozen in time while fighting over the cue. She craned her neck. At the bar the espresso machine had stopped mid-flow so that the liquid was suspended in the air.

She put her hands to her eyes and rubbed them. Was this dreadful day never going to end? She was meant to be talking to Todd but everything kept going wrong. First Amy, and then Vince with his annoying tablets, and now this. What was—

Someone coughed and Holly groaned as she turned back around.

Of course.

Dr. Alan Hill. Who else would it be?

This time he was sitting cross-legged on top of the table Holly had just vacated. He’d also changed his outfit into a smart two-piece navy pinstriped suit, which made him look surprisingly masculine despite the chubby fingers and ginger hair.

“You can stop time?” Holly demanded as she made her way over and slid back into the booth.

“I wouldn’t call it stopping time exactly.” He waved his hand vaguely in the air. “It’s a little bit more complicated than that, but now really isn’t the place for a lesson in quantum physics.”

“No,” she agreed. “It’s probably better that you get straight on and let me know what other unexpected, disastrous thing is about to overcome me. Oh, and don’t forget to pull that face when you remind me it was all there in black and white on page one hundred and twenty-three of the stupid rulebook which everyone knows I didn’t bother to read.”

“Miss Evans,” he said in a hurt voice. Did he have more shopping bags by his side? “I don’t want you to only associate me with bad news.”

“How silly of me to think that, when the last two times have been like a basket of cuddly little kittens. So what’s happening now? A mid-mid-manual purge analysis? Or a pre-having-the-memories-of-a-lifetime-wiped-away analysis? Or—”

“Actually, this is a more spontaneous visit.” He beamed as he pulled the red laser machine out of his suit pocket. “I come bearing good news.”

Holly shot him a skeptical look. “What sort of good news?”

He held the machine up in the air. “You’re making progress.”

“No, I’m not.” Holly scowled at the annoying machine that couldn’t be tricked. “I’m going backwards. So far I haven’t a clue how the pills got into my system. I can’t talk to my boyfriend, and I’m on a date with a girl who dresses like Morticia Addams. There is no progress.”

“I beg to differ.” Dr. Hill held the machine up to Holly’s face. “See those little lines? Well they indicate a considerable change in the impulsesomatons that are being emitted from your brain.”

“Is that even a word?”

“You’re dealing with your issues,” he explained. “I see that you found out Miss Gulliven had been putting suicide posters up around your building and you reacted in a very calm manner. And yes, for the record, impulsesomatons is a word.”

“Oh.” Holly blinked in surprise. “Well, I was just pleased that she wasn’t being weird about Vince. I mean as far as the posters go, she was just doing her job. It’s no big deal.”

“But it is a big deal.” Dr. Hill clapped his hands. “It’s real progress, Miss Evans.”

“I don’t understand.” Holly clutched at her head. It was still banging like a drum and this conversation wasn’t helping matters at all. “Why would that make such a difference? I haven’t even spoken to Todd yet.”

“I don’t know,” the doctor admitted. “The mind is a powerful thing. All I know is that something very large was blocking you from being receptive to the normal purging process and whatever it is, has started to disappear.”

“So I’ll be okay tomorrow?”

“The block is still there, but it has lessened considerably. You just need to keep working on it. Stay positive.”

“Wow, this is such a relief. So even if I don’t find how the pills go there, if I talk to Todd tonight you think I’ll have a chance?”

“The more outstanding things you get resolved, the better it will be,” Dr. Hill agreed. “Clearing the air with your boyfriend will make a big difference.”

“Excellent, because I’m going to talk to him as soon as I manage to ditch Amy,” Holly explained as she resisted the urge to jump up and hug him. She had a feeling that somewhere in the stupid rulebook was a paragraph about patient-doctor conduct. But she was so happy.

There was a chance she would make it back to heaven and Level Three. Memory intact.

She just needed to do what Dr. Hill said.

First stop was Todd.

“Good,” he said just as the music came back on and the buzz of general conversation resumed its normal frequency.

“Hey, what’s happening?”

“Oh, did I forget to mention my little trick only lasts for five minutes?”

“You did forget to mention that,” Holly agreed as Amy walked back to the table, nodding her head in rhythm to the music. Holly stared at Dr. Hill and wondered how on earth she was going to explain why there was a ginger haired man sitting on top of the table—looking particularly unbothered about the situation, if Holly could just