by Michael Foot
If it is, what you are likely to find are several of the High Council of Seven, the people – six plus Michael – who really determine what’s happening. The Angels may look all cosy and nice. But believe me, there is a huge amount of ‘paddling under the water’ to keep things moving. And fortunately the High Council is stuffed with people well able to pick up and see through the most complicated of plans. All the High Council are known within our group as Archangels and I’d better run through them for you. But don’t take the names too seriously; most of them have nicknames even to their faces.”
Freddy went on “The basic problem is that all the Biblical references and bits from other religions don’t give us many names of the supposed Archangels. And most of the ones there are grate terribly on modern ears. Apart from Michael, the only one who is widely known to any ordinary person is Gabriel; and even that is tricky because we have 2. One is Jibril – the Muslim name for Gabriel. He is a Muslim man and responsible for our links with the Muslim Angels. The other, Gabriel, is actually a girl, Gabrielle –I should say woman, she’s a real ball-breaker – who everyone calls Gabby to her face. That actually helps with the Muslims, who couldn’t bring themselves to have a female Archangel representing them, any more than they would want a male, non-Muslim Gabriel. In reality, Gabby runs finances. I don’t think Angels in the Bible ever had to worry about things like money, so there’s no Biblical source for that. And she acts as Michael’s Number 2.
That leaves 4 and that’s where it gets messy, I should say ‘debateable’. If you’re that way inclined and don’t have much of a life, you can actually go away for a weekend with like-minded Angels to debate subjects like ‘John Milton and the naming of the Fallen Angels’ or ‘was Azrael an Archangel?’ But I assume that’s not to your taste. So, in short, let’s just say the 4 names Michael settled on were:
- Raphael, which supposedly means ‘God Heals’ so he covers all aspects of health and personal wellbeing. You’ll come across a lot of references to ‘Rafa’ (after the tennis player) if you ever get involved with any of the rehab centres we run;
- Uriel. Uri’s associated with fire and justice, so think of him covering everything to do with law and order;
- Ariel, the name for the traditional patron saint of animals and the environment. So guess what, he covers all environmental issues. And – despite how little you seem to know about the Angels – even you will probably have heard some of the Angel propaganda on global warming and the like.
- finally Sammy – actually Chamuel, the one who sees God. Ours is a woman who everyone calls Sammy, even to her face. Think of her as the Minister of Peace and a kind of glorified agony aunt rolled into one. Again, one tough lady but very good value.”
“You talk about these people like they’re a Cabinet in waiting, Ministers with different portfolios.” said Andrew. “Not far from the truth” replied Freddy. “Think of Michael as the CEO and Executive Chairman, the others are just like Ministers; and you won’t be far wrong. Gabby is really Michael’s Number 2 and, as I said, she runs the finances. And, although The Foundation has deep pockets, my guess is that money must be becoming a big issue, as our efforts expand across the country and into so many new areas. So, more power to her elbow. Last time I heard, for example, we had opened 60 rehab centres across the big cities in the last 18 months, mostly providing detox environments for alcohol or drug abuse. Very good they are – I’m told – not an area I hope ever to have to worry about personally. But that sort of thing comes expensive when nearly everyone who ends up there is just an ordinary person – usually an under 30 whose cure is being paid for 100% by us.
Anyway, if you’re being honoured by a weekend with some of these people, you’ll probably know more than I do by Monday. What I can tell you from personal experience, Michael loves to sit around and talk about future policy. He likes to drag people out of whatever day-dream they’re in and come up with viable policies in the areas that concern us and which are going to be critical as we go nation-wide. But my advice is to take it as it comes and trust Chloe – she’s pretty straight and artless in her way of handling people. She won’t deliberately land you in anything you can’t handle.
Certainly, make sure you enjoy your weekend. The highlight will be the first time you sit and talk with Michael. Almost everyone who does so comes away believing that the difficult is possible and the impossible will get tackled just around the corner. It took me about two years to make the trip you’re going on now, so forgive me if I sound a little jealous, because I am. Time with Michael must be the best thing on this grotty planet. It’s over a year since I saw him and, on my good days, I can still face anything thrown at me, just by thinking of him.”
7
By Thursday evening, Chloe had texted to say that she would pick Andrew up from his flat about 2 p.m. on Friday. He was to wait outside the apartment. Andrew decided to chill Thursday night. A couple of hours of not too strenuous gym work and swimming, plus a few beers and a take-away, did that for him very effectively. And he was asleep by 11.
On Friday morning, he gave some careful thought to what he should wear and take with him. He decided he had better trust Freddy’s view that much of the time would be taken up with policy sessions round a table so ‘dress down’ seemed the order of the day. But he added one decent shirt and some chinos just in case. It was late August and the weather seemed set fair so Andrew didn’t bother with any wet weather gear.
Time hung on his hands the next morning and Andrew was grateful when the clock crawled round to 2 p.m. and he could stand in the road and await Chloe. She was only about 10 minutes late, driving a non-descript Ford Escort of some years’ vintage. She pulled up alongside him, indicated he should throw his case on the back seat and get into the front passenger seat. All of which he did without a word.
“Hello” she said as she pulled out. “I’m so glad you could make this. The chance to spend time with Michael doesn’t come very often, even for people like me. And it looks like a beautiful weekend.” “Where are we going?” asked Andrew. “And what’s actually going to happen?”
“Well” she replied “we’re going to an Angel place in the country near Letchworth, so the journey shouldn’t be too long. It’s basically a drug rehab clinic but Michael has a kind of weekend retreat added on at the back. I think the Angels have perhaps a dozen such retreats around the country; and Michael travels round, encouraging the troops and planning the next stage in the campaign. He likes his whereabouts to be a bit of a mystery, so hardly anyone knows where he is at any point in time; and the logistics of keeping up with him must be a nightmare for the people responsible. Still, that’s not my worry thank goodness. I’m just one of the old guard he likes to have around occasionally. He’s sweet. He says people like me have a common touch and understand what ordinary people are thinking, which is what he needs to know. That could be pretty dismissive; but the way he puts it always makes me feel great, glad to be ‘ordinary’ and really wanted.”
She looked quickly across at Andrew. “I see you’ve got your bands on. Those can go. It’s not that kind of a weekend, business not pleasure. And, whatever you do, never make a pass at any of the women around Michael. They regard looking after him as some kind of religious duty – we call them the Nuns (but not to their face, where they are Sisters). They travel with him and all the cooking and facilitation of the weekend will be thanks to them. So, be grateful, be nice but above all hands off!”
“Are they Michael’s women?” Andrew asked. “Oh no” replied Chloe. “He gave that kind of thing up years ago. Which is a great shame. I managed a few nights with him about 5 years ago when he was still interested; and they were the best nights of my life. But, now, he’s kind of risen above all that, though he absolutely doesn’t want or expect others around him to do the same. The only thing he is adamant about is the use of contraceptives. I’m sure Vy had some with her the other night – that would be thanks to Micha
el always going on about it.”
Andrew was not happy to hear that last remark. “You bloody women. Has every Angel read Vy’s blog? First Freddy, now you. Makes me feel a fool.” “You’ll get used to it” commented Chloe. “And you’ll find there are some really good aspects to it. If you ever became an Angel then the shared blogs are a way in which, within months, you can get to know and trust hundreds, if not thousands, of your colleagues. Tell me how you would do that – in the bank where you work for example. And trust among Angels is absolutely critical. There are so few of us for what needs to be done. How can anyone do their job properly if they can’t trust and rely on the people around them? Of course, that doesn’t mean everything always goes swimmingly. But you do know, if something goes wrong that might impact you, the Angel concerned will own up to the problem straightaway and ask for help. It’s part of the culture – own up to problems as soon as you see them. That’s what trust comes down to.”
Chloe drove in a relaxed but not passive way. The miles got eaten up pretty quickly, especially once they escaped the M25. Andrew didn’t initiate much conversation – he didn’t feel in a position to do that. What he did establish was that they would arrive, Chloe would hand him over to the Sisters; and Michael would almost certainly talk to him privately before the first session, which would be over dinner and after. Chloe was bubbling at the prospect of spending time with people she obviously knew and liked. “I can’t tell you exactly who’ll be there” she said. “But I expect at least 2 of the High Council will be with us, probably Gabby and one other. And the rest – maybe a dozen in all – will be from the Foundation, or a handful from the big Northern cities, a few of whom I’ll know. Michael’s always saying that one of the worst features of how things have been run in Britain for decades has been the over-reliance of policy on what London and the South-East want. As you’ll no doubt hear, he doesn’t think much at all of recent governments and politicians either!”
Andrew knew they had arrived when Chloe slowed down and turned left up a narrow track. At the junction there had been a relatively small sign saying ‘Start Over’ Hotel, but otherwise nothing to indicate what was there. The narrow road broadened out after about half a mile and Andrew could see signs pointing to the car park. That had a couple of other cars and two minibuses parked. Chloe pulled up and they got out.
Andrew immediately felt drawn to the place. It was so peaceful. There were a surprising number of flowers around; and the sound of a few birds singing in the nearby trees. A typical country scene but one that straightaway conjured up the feeling that you were miles from the rat-race or any other part of the ‘real world’.
Chloe took out her case, Andrew picked his up. Chloe obviously remembered the way because she headed for a fairly narrow gap in the nearby hedge and went through. “The rehab building is the other way. You won’t see it or its current inhabitants on this trip, though Michael will go and talk to them at some point I’m sure. The retreat is quite separate here at the back. I don’t know what you’re used to – I would call it comfortable without being flash.”
They walked down the path about 30 yards, which then turned sharply right. There, through a waist-high iron gate, Andrew could see a low two-storey brick building facing them. Before it was a small garden, where Andrew could see not much more than a patch of rough lawn with a handful of benches scattered over it. Also, a couple of rose beds, standards and mostly well past their prime for this year. Chloe cut across the small lawn, making for the clearly-defined entrance. “All the action takes place on the Ground Floor” she called over her shoulder to Andrew. “It’s just bedrooms and store rooms upstairs.”
As they reached the door, it swung open and a middle-aged woman stepped out to meet them. She wore a slightly severe dark blue long skirt and a light blue shirt that went well with it. No make-up or any other ornamentation save for a small simple silver cross on a chain around her neck. “Hello, Sister” said Chloe walking towards her, dropping her case and embracing her warmly. “I might have guessed that you’d still be looking after Michael. It’s wonderful to see you again.” Chloe turned to look back at Andrew who was standing perhaps two metres behind the pair of them. “This is Sister Valerie who runs absolutely everything. She’s the go-to person for anything you may want while you’re here.” Andrew stepped forward and shook Valerie’s proffered hand. “I’m pleased to be here” Andrew said “though a bit bowled over by everything being so new to me.” “Say no more” Valerie’s voice was deep and restful, in total agreement with the atmosphere that seemed to permeate the whole environment. “I’m sure Chloe can remember where we serve tea for people as they arrive. She can also show you your room – you are in Number 3, she is in 4. They’re all en-suite. And we don’t bother with things like keys – you’ll find out that’s the Angel way. So, have some tea, and go and unpack.” She glanced at her watch. “It’s about 4 now. Michael has asked to see you around 6, Andrew. One of us will come and get you from your room when it’s time. Prayers and food will be about 7.”
Chloe took them to get some tea. There was no-one else around. She then led him upstairs to Room 3 which held a bed, chair and table, chest of drawers and built-in wardrobe plus a small bookcase with perhaps 30 books in it. Andrew could immediately see a Bible on the shelf, together with what looked like devotional books of the kind he associated with his Catholic childhood. But he was relieved to see also at least a dozen books by authors like Michael Connolly and CJ Sansom. So, without checking further, Andrew thought he could probably find something to read if need be. Chloe smiled up at him. “I’ll leave you to it. Do walk if you feel like it, you can’t get lost. And, if not before, Prayers around 7.”
8
It took Andrew just 10 minutes to unpack and explore his room and the rest of the top floor. He had been trained always to seek out the Fire Exit, which he did. Otherwise, there seemed nothing of interest. He decided to stay in his room and just enjoy the restful atmosphere. His eyes may have closed because, when Sister Valerie came for him just before 6, he definitely didn’t register her presence in the room until she spoke. “Michael’s downstairs. I’ll show you to the room.”
Andrew followed her down the stairs and into a large room opposite, on the Ground Floor. Andrew tried to take in where he was. The room was very large – it must have been several rooms at one time that had now been knocked together. There were various sizes and types of chair facing inwards, which together gave Andrew the impression that he might have walked into the Senior Common Room at an Oxbridge College. A rather imposing fireplace stood at one end though, given the weather, this was empty. Andrew realised this room must be where the policy sessions would be held.
Michael was standing motionless in front of the empty fireplace. He had already half turned towards the door and, as Andrew entered, he moved forward a couple of paces towards Andrew and held out his hand. “Welcome, I’m so glad you could come. I just hope we will have enough ‘entertainment’ for you to make your weekend enjoyable. Please sit down and let’s talk.”
Andrew reached for one of the single chairs and sat. Michael found a chair almost opposite but not so close that Andrew felt in any way under pressure. Now that his brain was working properly, Andrew realised that Michael himself was not a particularly impressive figure. Roughly the same height and build as Andrew himself. Maybe late 30s or older, with a luxuriant head of black curly hair and sparkling eyes in a face that looked as though it regularly broke into smiles or laughter. In short, very unintimidating, not at all what Andrew had projected though, now he thought of it, he wasn’t sure what he had really expected. Michael was also dressed very much as Andrew himself. No sign of a monk’s cassock or anything to mark him out as someone special. But what he did have – and what Andrew felt the moment he had touched his offered hand – was a sense of calm, power and personal wellbeing, which seemed to flow from him and fill the space around him. Andrew could feel that well-being spread up his own
arm and warm his whole body. Against his own better judgment, Andrew was impressed.
“I found the brief CV you gave when you visited the Oxford Street store last week very striking” Michael said. “As you can probably imagine, we don’t get that many obviously talented people turning up each week saying they might be interested in working with us. Though, Heaven knows, we need plenty, especially now. Certainly, we don’t get many people like you who have held down tough Army and then private sector roles or who can speak a difficult language like Arabic with apparent ease. Tell me a bit more.”
Andrew had expected to be quizzed on his CV and had thought carefully through how best to present himself, to conform to the cover story he had. Fortunately, one of the Colonel’s astute moves, the CV was genuine, so Andrew had no trouble talking briefly about his education, his Army career or his move into investment banking via a spell in the Middle East. What was more difficult, he thought, was how best to give Michael the impression that he, Andrew, was up for taking on something interesting for the Angels, without seeming to throw himself at them.
He found himself saying in conclusion “So, I’ve got this few months – effectively a paid Sabbatical from the bank while I think about what I want to do with the rest of my life. I’m not short of money. The people I’m supervising should only need a day or so a week of my time. My parents both died when I was quite young, and I’ve still got the great bulk of what they’ve left me. So, I’m not short of cash. I’d heard a bit about what you Angels are up to and thought, well, perhaps you might have something worth my turning a hand to – preferably something very different from what I’ve done so far.”
“Understood” replied Michael. “in the sense that, from this and your CV, I think I see the kind of things you could do for us, what you would be good at; and what also might broaden your horizons. But, before we go there; if you are to be of real use and to last the pace, you need to hear and believe in what we’re up to. And you need to see just why I think you might bring something extra and different for us. Volunteers are great. Volunteers who start to understand their role in the wider picture and can internalise that have far more drive and value to us. I’m really only happy when I have people around me who can see that wider picture.