Angel Manifesto

by Michael Foot

  That Julie had no difficulty in demonstrating to Andrew. The boy had mitigated his actions by using a condom and by keeping the rest of his gang out of the room while the assault took place. Within 10 minutes, Andrew was convinced that Michael had given him a true bill of what had happened. It took rather longer for Andrew to feel reassured that, though Julie had clearly suffered panic attacks and all kinds of problems afterwards, she was now at least partly healed; and, as Andrew realised he had come subconsciously to expect, that the Angels had stood by her all the way through the recovery process. “That’s where Chloe was so great – always there when I needed, always supportive but never pushy or demanding” commented Julie as they finished the pizzas. “And” she smiled wanly as she waved her hands at the now empty plates in front of them “at least you can see I’ve got my appetite back.”

  At no point did Julie ask anything about why Andrew was there or what was being planned. Indeed, Andrew never found out if she knew what was in train or indeed whether she had ever asked the Angels to do anything. Like several Angels he’d met in his weeks with them, she radiated almost unquestioning trust in what the Angels thought and did. Naïve? Sensible in the circumstances? Who could say. But, at least Andrew concluded that, even if the attack happened, and was reported and was somehow linked back to the attack on Julie, there was no active lead beyond that to John, Jake or him.

  Julie declined an offer to transfer from the restaurant to a local pub. She thanked him for the evening and quietly left. Andrew found himself back at the suburban semi by 9, though not before he had stocked up on some wine and whisky to get them through the evening. Even Jake, he thought, would welcome that way of passing the time.

  The time did pass and – indeed more slowly – the daylight hours of Sunday. John allowed him to get Sunday papers the next morning; and Jake cooked a large fry-up early afternoon, in best Army tradition, so that the operation would not take place on empty stomachs. Early evening, with John in charge throughout, they shut the house down and John gave Andrew about 30 minutes to get acquainted with the van they would be using that evening. “Don’t want you stalling, or going into reverse, or something equally crass” John noted.

  The van had two front seats and a narrow back seat where one person (Jake) could stretch out in reasonable comfort. John guided Andrew to the restaurant and checked that he knew where to wait when the time came. Thanks to Andrew’s reconnaissance the night before, this took very little time. John then handed Andrew a small mobile phone “Pay as you go – programmed with just 2 numbers you can ring, Jake and me. Don’t use it unless something really vital goes wrong. Now, drop us and bugger off. The kid isn’t due for at least an hour but I don’t want him seeing this van stuck behind the restaurant when he comes, nor indeed you waiting there for very long. Unless I call you, just turn up behind the restaurant and park at 8, keep the engine ticking over and wait. The restaurant will have a notice on the door saying it’s closed. Very appropriate given that they’re going to do a flit and we don’t want anyone dropping in unnecessarily while we’re convincing the young man that he’s going to come with us.

  And that’s all you have to do. We’ll come out the back with the stretcher, shove it in the back of the van –it’s unlocked, I’ve checked – and then Jake and I’ll join you. I can then give you the next address to drive to, I know the route well. When we get there, you just drive into their garage which will be open. I’ll get out and close the garage door; we can get the stretcher into the house without going outside. You come with us – I’ve arranged for you to kip down for a few hours – I don’t want you driving us to London without having had a bit of sleep. About 3 hours later, we will have finished. But we’ll wait until about 6 a.m., get you up with a bit of nosh. We’ll get the kid back to the van; and then we can drop him somewhere nice and shady in the country to sleep it off. While you drive us back to London.”

  Amazingly, events followed the script very closely. The kid actually turned up a bit before time; but John and Jake were fully ready. The kid didn’t bring anyone which – as John observed later – meant there was very little chance of anyone calling him into the police that night, as missing. Andrew did the driving he had been briefed for. He never even saw the boy’s face – just the stretcher on which he was carried – nor indeed whoever was in the house they drove onto and who presumably carried out the tattooing. About 9 hours later Andrew was easing the van onto the M6, with the kid safely left to sleep in a country lane that John had obviously picked out well before. Andrew wasn’t sure whether the good result was a consequence of John’s meticulous planning or just sheer bloody luck. But as Napoleon was supposed to have said ‘Give me generals who are lucky’; so, Andrew thought, Michael and the Angels probably felt the same about their own operatives. Of which Andrew was now very much one.

  19

  John and Jake dropped Andrew off as soon as they reached the outskirts of the London Underground. Andrew had no desire to spend more time with them, nor that they should know where he lived. Nevertheless, he accepted that the operation had gone incredibly smoothly and that this must have been largely due to John’s organisation and to the calm and professional way John and Jake had gone about it. So, as he climbed out of the van outside Uxbridge Tube Station, relinquishing the driving seat to John, he thought he should acknowledge what they had done and part on good terms.

  So, he solemnly shook hands with each before he climbed out, thanked them for making his own part so easy and wished them luck for the future. Before John could remind him, Andrew dug the mobile phone out of his pocket, wiped it carefully for fingerprints and handed it over to John, holding it in his handkerchief as he did so. To his slight surprise, John actually smiled at him. “Take care yourself” said John. “If, our lad does decide to go to the police, someone – not us – will ring and warn you. In the meantime, I suggest you get home, have a few beers and make sure that some Angel bird will give you an alibi – should you need one – for at least part of the weekend.” Andrew had already marked that as something to be arranged. And John and Jake departed.

  A day or so later, Andrew had recovered his optimism (there would be little that could tie him to Manchester that weekend, if things did get hot). Chloe was more than happy to sketch in an alibi for him. And, thinking about it, Andrew also felt remarkably good about what he had just done. Helped no doubt by the fact that he hadn’t even talked to the youth, let alone contributed directly to his ‘punishment’, Andrew felt that the boy had got no more than what was coming to him, indeed that he had got off lightly. The beers John had suggested he enjoy on getting home had actually been a bottle of Penfold 389, his favourite red wine. The cost for once could go hang. As he sat comfortably at home listening to his Sonos, he raised the first glass to Julie. “We have paid him one back.”

  Andrew also had a little time to think about the ‘reward’ for the third labour and had concluded that he might see if he could take a rain check on it. There was nothing he immediately wanted to follow up on. He thought tracking down some of Michael’s immediate staff might be worth doing sometime; but he couldn’t see that it was particularly appropriate right now. And something else might well come up that he wanted to do.

  Thoughts like that drained from his mind when the phone went on Wednesday and a female voice at the other end asked if that was Andrew Davies. Andrew immediately thought this might be the one thing he had dreaded, a call to say that the police had become involved and that he should be on his guard.

  Instead, having established that he was indeed the right person, the girl merely said that a car would be coming to pick him up – later that day if he was free; and that he should plan on being away just one night. Andrew said indeed he had nothing planned – which was only too true as he had wanted to talk further with Chloe properly before making his plans for the week ahead.

  By 4 p.m. Andrew therefore found himself in a car which, it very quickly became clear, was
again going to take him where he had been twice before. The traffic wasn’t too heavy – they had just beaten the worst of the rush hour – but it was still after 6 when they arrived. As soon as he had walked in through the main door, a Sister appeared – one he had met before. “Welcome back, Andrew. We’ve got the same room for you. Dinner will be at 7.30 and then the ceremony will be after that.” Andrew immediately asked “What ceremony?” The girl just smiled “Sorry, ignore that. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  Although it was the middle of the week, there appeared to be quite a few Angels around. And, when he went down to dinner – the bell had sounded punctually at 7.30 as he knew now it would – he was happy to see that Chloe was there too. Even better, she came up to him and kissed him with a degree of enthusiasm she had never shown before. That wasn’t just ‘hello’ to a friend, or at least so he hoped. She even sat next to him; and Andrew noticed that Chloe had a small amount of make-up on, something that he had rarely seen before.

  Michael joined them for the meal; and the numbers were just small enough to allow them to sit round a circular table and talk together, though mostly that meant listening to Michael. As he listened, Andrew wondered to what extent Michael was talking to him; but, as things progressed, he decided that Michael was actually trying to raise spirits and lift the heads of all those present.

  “We’re growing faster now than at any time in the past” Michael said. “I know that this puts strains on a lot of you. Having to help induct new recruits, constantly helping people who are still struggling to understand what we expect of them. As well, of course, as your ‘day jobs’, most of which require 100% focus on the period up to the Election. But let’s look at it another way.

  The psychologists say that few of us are capable of making meaningful connections with more than about 150 people. More than that, you can’t really get to know them or keep up with their own personal paths. You can’t get a real feel for whether you can trust them or not, which is vital for us. We must be able to trust each other; and, when you meet a new Angel, you are really dependent on those who have met them and think they are worthy to join us.

  Now, if you think about your own situations, you will probably find that you’re at or near the 150 limit. But you’ll also probably find that this number breaks down into three groups: other Angels, family members plus old friends from before your Angel days and the group of people you are struggling to support and bring on. Now, it’s a matter of simple arithmetic. Say that last group account for half of all those you have a relationship with. That’s 75 for each of you. There are now over 150 Angels of the inner circle. If each has 75 outer contacts, that comes to 11,000 with some overlaps. If eventually, half of those 11,000 become Angels of the outer circle themselves – or at least are well disposed towards us, then you are looking at a total approaching 400,000 by the time you’ve added in all their non-family contacts. We can do a huge amount with even half that number working with us, canvassing and supporting our initiatives. Certainly that’s a whole lot more than the main political parties could lay claim to. In short, it seems like hard work now, it is hard work. But we’re making amazing progress.

  That leads me on to why many of us are really here tonight. With the Election coming so quickly, we have to move faster in selecting new people to join us than would be ideal. Just occasionally, though, new recruits appear who can be tried and tested in weeks rather than months and who will show very quickly whether or not they are worth our trust. We have one such here tonight and I’m going to ask an Angel of the Inner Circle to introduce that person to us.”

  Andrew felt rather than saw Chloe stand next to him. “As many of you know, I have been an Angel of the Inner Circle for some years now. I met a man only about two months ago who I could see immediately might have huge talents to bring to our cause. He was dissatisfied with the world he found around him. He had physical and mental skills we need in abundance. I brought him here to meet Michael and to see if that would cause the spark that I could see within him to burst into life. It did.

  Michael has since then asked him to complete three tasks for us, showing him in the process that the life of an Angel may not be emotionally or morally smooth and simple. He has passed those tests with flying colours. Michael has confirmed that he is happy for this man to become not only an Angel but immediately an Angel of the Inner Circle. His name is Andrew Davies.” And here Chloe turned to look at him. “And I now ask him, in front of you all, whether he is ready and willing to take on the mantle he is being offered.” She sat down. It was obvious that now was the time for Andrew himself to speak.

  He cleared his throat. “I can honestly say that I have never been so caught on the hop as I am now. I had no idea that such an honour could be bestowed – especially not on one like me so new to your ranks. If I had known and had thought about the possibility, then I don’t know exactly what I would have said.” He was silent for a moment. “But now it has come like this, out of the blue, I can tell you that my heart is singing and every sinew in me wants to say ‘yes, yes please.’ I have seen some of you at work and I admire the things that the Angels have already done. I have listened to Michael and I have heard there a philosophy of hope and renewal. One which – though of course it will take time – could mean new and better lives for millions of those in this country, maybe eventually world-wide. So, that is my answer ‘yes, yes please.”

  Several Sisters had obviously been waiting at the side of the room. They now appeared with trays of drinks – either soft for a few or what turned out to be good champagne for Andrew himself and most of the others. Michael had sat watching Chloe and Andrew. He now rose to his feet. “We don’t believe in elaborate ceremonies for things like this. I don’t present a badge of office or drag out a pair of fake white wings for you to put on. All that will happen is that the bush telegraph – which is what I call the amazingly effective social media services we run for the Inner Circle, the Seraphim, and for Angels more generally – will do its job. It will have photos and CV up for you before you can get to your room. Now, I suggest we break this up. Andrew, I suggest you and Chloe retire for a chat – I have little doubt there are things you want to say to her, Andrew, starting perhaps with ‘why did you spring that on me?’ Take a full bottle of champagne with you, I happen to know this is Chloe’s favourite and we’ll see you for breakfast tomorrow.” With that, he smiled again and left the room.

  20

  Many of those present gathered round Andrew to offer their own congratulations. A few – like Gabrielle and Mo – he knew; the others were at best names to him. Eventually, he managed to edge to the door, clutching a bottle of champagne that a Sister had thrust firmly into his hand and, from there upstairs to what he had come to think of as his room, Number 3.

  He sank down on the bed once inside, quite overcome by what had happened. A slew of thoughts ran through his mind – the fairly irrelevant (like how pleased the Colonel would be) to the important – what would this mean for him and Chloe? He soon got a possible answer to the second thought, as Chloe slipped into the room and stood smiling down at him. “You obviously didn’t see that coming but then why should you? I don’t suppose there have been more than a handful of people who have moved from being an outsider to a Seraph in one go; and certainly not as quickly as you have managed it. So now you hold the record. The question now is whether you want another first to your name.”

  She paused. Andrew stayed quiet – he had no idea what was coming though his heart was telling him that this could be his moment with her. She continued “I’ve told you before that, now, I could never go with a non-Angel. I could never be a Watcher. But, also I don’t want any more transient relationships with other Angels – I’ve had my fill of those. So my question to you now is whether you want to hook up with me? I can’t expect you to commit wholly – anymore than I can at the moment. It will be enough if you want to become my partner, tell the Angel world that we are partners
, and stay loyal to me until one of us changes our mind and breaks the relation. No more one-night stands for you. You would be the man I think I have already come to love and whom I could respect. You’d share my bed, we’d share our lives.”

  Andrew’s head spun – this was more than he could ever have hoped. He tried to speak but his throat was dry. Eventually, he managed to croak – to repeat what he had said to Michael a few minutes ago “oh yes, yes please.” She stood up, she threw her arms around him; and, over the next hour, the pact was made and consummated, the champagne drunk.

  21

  When Andrew came to the next morning, his head initially declined to function. Chloe was gone, she had no doubt slipped out, but he did remember – in a cascade of memory – the events of last night, the wonder of being with Chloe and the happiness he had felt then and felt now. After a few minutes, he threw the duvet off, showered and briskly shaved before going down to breakfast. The meal, his watch told him, had probably been on the go for at least half an hour already.

  There was no sign of Chloe and, as Andrew wanted no more than coffee and toast, he was through in about 10 minutes. Everyone around him smiled when they saw him but left him alone, for which he was grateful. He rose and went back to his room. Chloe would no doubt reappear when it suited her.

  He must have dozed off for it was about an hour later when there was a quiet knock on the door. It was enough to waken him and he said, without thinking, “Come in.” It was Freddy – whom he hadn’t seen since the early days at the Oxford Circus shop – something which, although only just a few months ago, seemed to him like ancient history.