Flights of Angels

by Victoria Connelly

  They talked about Whitby:

  ‘Don’t you think it strange that we never met before?’

  ‘Not strange, exactly, but certainly a shame.’

  They talked about food:

  ‘I can’t stand rice pudding.’

  ‘Neither can I. It looks like sick.’

  And, of course, they talked about films:

  ‘Do you suppose this is where Gene Kelly danced?’

  ‘Gene who?’

  ‘Simon!’

  ‘Only joking!’

  And then they stopped talking and were just walking. Claudie thought it was probably to do with the lateness of the hour, as well as the amount of conversation that had poured from them. She’d been tongue-tied before, but this was the first time she’d been tongue-tired.

  ‘It’s late, isn’t it,’ she said, as they finally returned to the arches of the Place des Vosges.

  ‘I was just thinking that it’s too early,’ Simon replied.

  ‘Too early?’

  They stopped just outside the iron gates of the hotel.

  ‘Too early for me to say that I’m falling in love with you.’

  As soon as the words were out of his mouth, there was a silence like they’d never heard before. It seemed to swallow up all the sound in the world, and seconds seemed to stretch themselves into aeons.

  At last Simon spoke again. ‘You probably won’t remember any of this tomorrow.’

  Claudie looked up at him and smiled. ‘It is tomorrow,’ she said.

  Chapter 47

  At Cabin Cottage in Whitby, two other people were wide-awake. But they were perfectly happy to stay put in bed, and had no intention whatsoever of venturing outdoors.

  Snuggled under the duvet together, Jimmy was busy warming Kristen’s frozen toes. It hadn’t taken him long to get her to pack a bag and leave Claudie’s cottage, and it had taken half that time again for them to find their way into the bedroom. There, they’d kissed, cuddled, made love, slept, kissed some more, made love again and were currently back to a period of prolonged cuddling. With a smattering of kisses thrown in for good measure.

  It was good to be home, Kristen thought, as Jimmy lifted her hand into the air and stretched her fingers out so that he could admire the ring he’d chosen for her. Kristen gazed at it wistfully. Just wait till Angela saw it, she thought. And Claudie and Simon! They wouldn’t be able to believe what had happened in their absence.

  ‘I think,’ Jimmy began a little hesitantly, ‘a long engagement?’

  ‘Yes,’ Kristen agreed, not wishing him to back down now that she had a ring on her finger.

  ‘Say two to three years.’

  ‘TWO TO THREE YEARS!’ the old Kristen kicked in as she turned round to face him. ‘Do you want me to be grey?’

  ‘It’s a perfectly respectable time.’

  Kristen set her mouth in a firm line. ‘Two years - tops!’ she said, withdrawing her hand from his.

  ‘Two and a half,’ Jimmy replied quickly.

  ‘One year,’ Kristen said, a half-smile on her face.

  ‘One year?’ Jimmy questioned.

  ‘DONE!’ Kristen quickly grabbed his hand and shook it.

  Chapter 48

  The lift ride to the first floor seemed to take an age. Simon and Claudie stood in silence, the space between his shoulder and her shoulder half of what it had been on their lift ride down a few hours before.

  Claudie hunted desperately for something to say; something to put him at his ease, but the only thought spiralling around her brain was that Simon’s face had flushed to the colour of a ripe strawberry. She’d never seen a man blush before, and it was peculiarly attractive.

  ‘It’s only an hour to breakfast,’ Simon said as the lift door opened. ‘Do you still want to meet at a quarter to eight?’

  ‘Maybe we should make it quarter past?’

  He nodded and smiled, and Claudie watched as he opened the door to his room and disappeared.

  She bit her lip and found that she was frowning, which annoyed her. What on earth did she have to frown about? A man had just declared his love for her. Was that really a frowning matter?

  She opened the door and stepped into her room. Her bedside lamp was still on and, as she walked in, she saw five little faces peering up at her from her dressing table. It looked as if the angels had been waiting up for her like anxious parents.

  ‘Guess who hasn’t had much sleep tonight?’ Lily teased.

  ‘Where have you been?’ Mary asked. ‘We got worried when we realized you’d gone out in the middle of the night.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you,’ Claudie said, flopping down on the bed. And then she laughed. ‘You look like a jury waiting to pass sentence.’

  Jalisa stepped forward a little. ‘It’s funny you should say that.’ She looked round and nodded to Mr Woo. ‘Aren’t you going to tell her?’ she whispered.

  Mr Woo shook his head. ‘Jalisa - her job.’

  ‘Yes,’ Bert said, sticking up for Mr Woo for once, ‘you’re so good at these sort of things.’

  Claudie rubbed her eyes and yawned loudly. ‘Tell me what?’

  Jalisa cleared her throat. ‘Claudie -’

  ‘Yes, Jalisa.’

  ‘We’ve been having a little chat.’

  ‘I can see that.’

  ‘Yes. And we’ve all come to the conclusion that Simon is rather a nice young man.’

  ‘Oh, you have, have you?’ Claudie didn’t want to get angry with them, but she didn’t like the idea that they’d been discussing her and Simon behind her back.

  ‘It’s all part of our job, you see,’ Bert chipped in. ‘To help you on your way.’

  ‘We make sure you okay,’ Mr Woo said.

  ‘When the time comes for what?’

  Jalisa looked back at the others and then turned to Claudie. ‘When we have to leave you.’

  Claudie barely moved. Had she heard them right? ‘Leave me?’

  ‘We can’t stay forever,’ Jalisa said gently. ‘You remember what we talked about? RTMO boxes and the like?’

  ‘I know. It’s just, I thought you’d be around a little longer than this.’

  Mary stepped forward and linked arms with Jalisa. ‘We’re as surprised as you are, Claudie. But just look how far you’ve come since we arrived.’

  ‘Paris isn’t that far.’

  ‘Claudie!’ Jalisa chided. ‘That’s not what Mary meant.’

  ‘I know,’ Claudie sighed, suddenly visualising the angels in a meeting room in heaven, drawing up bar charts and measuring her grief.

  ‘I think she’s definitely ready now,’ Jalisa might say. ‘It’s time we moved on and left her to face the world on her own.’

  ‘This table shows how much she’s improved since we arrived,’ Bert might agree.

  ‘It’s the herbs,’ Mr Woo would probably add.

  Claudie shrugged, feeling helpless and hopeless. ‘But this is so soon!’ she said.

  ‘We know,’ Jalisa agreed. ‘But you must feel positive about that.’

  Claudie swallowed hard, as if she were having trouble digesting their words. ‘But I can’t see what’s changed since you arrived. I mean, a little time has passed, but have I really changed that much?’

  The angels gave her a beautiful group smile.

  ‘You can’t see what’s under your own nose,’ Lily tutted.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘What exactly happened tonight?’ Lily asked.

  Claudie gave her a guarded look. How much did they know? Did they hover over her and follow her around all day and night? She wouldn’t be a bit surprised. They did seem to have a lot of inside information.

  ‘I really don’t see how that changes things.’

  ‘Don’t you?’ Lily asked, her voice rising in surprise. ‘But it changes everything!’

  ‘Bugger. Bugger. Bugger!’ Simon grabbed a towel and patted his face dry, but the submersion in cold water hadn’t reduced the redness of his
face one iota.

  He stared at himself in the mirror and shook his head at what he saw. He looked terrible. What must Claudie have thought of him?

  Walking through to the bedroom, he sank down onto the bed and closed his eyes. He’d set his watch in case he fell asleep, but that wasn’t very likely. Not with what he’d just told Claudie.

  He groaned as he thought of their faces: his claret red and hers moonshine white. But at least he’d told her. The words were out. So let them do their work.

  At quarter past eight on the dot, they found themselves in the lift again. Shoulder to shoulder this time, the space between them having vanished completely.

  Under the arches of the breakfast room, they ate their last Parisian petit dejeuner with a few casual comments about what they should do and see during their remaining hours.

  ‘We should go up the Eiffel Tower, I suppose,’ Claudie said thoughtfully.

  ‘And there’s the boat cruise.’

  ‘And the Mona Lisa?’

  ‘Or Monet?’

  ‘Or Rodin?’

  ‘Or,’ Simon said, struggling to cut his bread roll into two equal parts, ‘we could just see where our feet take us again.’

  Claudie met his gaze, trying very hard not to think of Whitby skies. ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘that sounds perfect.’

  The sun was blinkably bright as they left the hotel. Claudie had decided to wear her long black boots again, and had chosen her new lilac jumper, but was beginning to worry that she was going to overheat. She quickly glanced at Simon. He was wearing black trousers, black boots and a chocolate brown jumper which made his hair look even blonder than normal, and feather-soft as it blew around in the light May breeze.

  They ended up by the Seine again, as if drawn by some internal navigational system, and Claudie watched as Simon browsed through the boxes of old black and white postcards for sale in the endless stalls along the riverbank.

  ‘Do you think these are genuine?’ he asked, handing Claudie a card with a postmark of 1902.

  ‘Well, nobody writes like that any more. In fact, nobody writes much at all now.’

  Simon pulled a face. ‘How can you be sure that there isn’t some out-of-work actor sitting in a garret somewhere writing stacks of these every day?’

  Claudie frowned. ‘You old sceptic!’

  He shrugged, taking the postcard from her and putting it back in its box amongst the hundreds of others. ‘They all look the same to me.’

  Claudie rifled through the boxes, picking them up and examining them at random. They were beautiful. Fountains, streets, monuments, children at play. They were just so Parisian. She selected three views of the city and paid for them.

  ‘What?’ she said, seeing Simon’s quizzical expression. ‘It doesn’t bother me if they’re not genuine. I like them, and that’s all that matters.’

  Simon smiled at her. But it wasn’t an ordinary smile. It was the sort of smile you can feel in your belly. The sort that warms your toes and softens your eyes. And she found herself returning it.

  With its elaborate grey and gold decoration, bulbous lights and mythical dolphinesque creatures, the Pont Alexandre III was the most incredible bridge Claudie had ever seen. And she shouldn’t have been surprised that the angels decided to make an appearance at the feet of a rather grand pair of cupids.

  She gave them a big smile in greeting but, with Simon stood next to her, she didn’t dare say anything. As much as she liked this man, she wasn’t quite ready to confide in him about having angels.

  ‘Has he kissed you yet, Claudes?’ Lily shouted, causing Claudie to turn and glare at her. What a thing to say! And right in front of Simon too, even though he couldn’t hear them.

  ‘You can’t come to Paris and not have a smooch,’ Jalisa giggled.

  ‘Leave her alone,’ Mr Woo said.

  ‘We will,’ Jalisa said. ‘Just give us a minute.’

  Claudie turned round at Jalisa’s enigmatic comment. She’d been feeling particularly nervous since Jalisa had started talking about expiry dates, and wanted to make sure that it wasn’t going to affect her just yet, but she couldn’t question her with Simon there. She’d have to wait, which made her all the more anxious.

  A boat full of tourists passed under the bridge and Claudie saw several cameras pointing in her direction. Were they aware that they were photographing angels? And then she had an idea.

  ‘Simon?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Could you take some photos for me?’

  ‘Sure. What of?’

  ‘This bridge. It’s so beautiful. And there’s a great view of the Eiffel Tower.’

  ‘You trust me with your camera?’ he asked, taking it from her.

  ‘Yes, of course!’

  Okay,’ he said, and she watched as he walked towards the centre of the bridge, leaving her alone with the angels.

  ‘Jalisa,’ she began, ‘what exactly did you mean just then?’

  ‘Oh, Claudie,’ Jalisa said, her voice slow and weary after its earlier vibrancy. ‘I think you know, don’t you?’

  ‘Know what?’ Claudie could feel a stream of pure panic flooding her system, and she didn’t like it.

  ‘You don’t need us any more.’

  ‘But I do!’ Her eyes widened in panic. What was happening? She was just beginning to trust them, to confide in them, and they were threatening to leave her? That couldn’t be right.

  Jalisa shook her head. ‘You don’t, Claudie.’

  Claudie looked to the others for support. Mr Woo’s head was bowed, Bert had taken his hat off, and Lily and Mary were holding hands and looking as if they were about to cry.

  ‘But I’ve only just got to know you.’

  Jalisa’s bright eyes looked up at her. ‘It doesn’t matter. You still don’t need us.’

  Claudie felt herself frowning again. They were teasing her, surely? They wouldn’t be that mean really?

  ‘But it’s a good thing,’ Jalisa said. ‘It means you’re ready to move on - to face the world.’

  ‘I don’t feel very ready.’

  There were a few moments of silence. Apart from the sounds of Parisian drivers.

  ‘We’re going to miss you,’ Bert said.

  ‘Oh, don’t!’ Claudie all but cried.

  ‘You’ve been so kind, so sweet,’ Mary said.

  ‘I miss you too,’ Mr Woo whispered. ‘Remember Mrs Woo in North London. She love to see you sometime.’

  ‘Do you mean you’re leaving me right now? Here?’ Claudie gasped in horror. ‘But I’ll be so unhappy for the rest of the day. What on earth will Simon think?’

  ‘Claudie,’ Jalisa said slowly, ‘I’ve always thought of happiness as a relay race.’

  ‘Oh, don’t go giving her that old speech!’ Bert complained.

  ‘Shut up!’ Jalisa snapped. ‘It’s not old, it’s something I was taught on my refresher course last year.’

  ‘Good grief!’ Bert said, shaking his head in disapproval.

  ‘Yes,’ Jalisa began again. ‘Happiness is like a relay race. We all seek it in different things at different stages of our lives. For you, it was us for a while, but now-’

  ‘Claudie!’ Simon called from further along the bridge. She turned round to see him pointing her camera lens pointing at her. ‘Smile!’ he shouted.

  And she did. The biggest, warmest smile she’d smiled in months.

  She watched as he walked back towards her. ‘Come on!’ he said, holding his hand out to her. ‘Time to move on, I think.’

  Claudie turned round to say a final goodbye to the angels, but they’d vanished.

  ‘Jalisa?’ she mouthed.

  ‘Bye, Claudie!’ Jalisa’s voice floated down from somewhere above her head. She looked up into the great blue sky, but there was nothing there but the Eiffel Tower.

  ‘Take good care of yourself,’ Bert’s voice said.

  ‘Don’t forget Mrs Woo,’ Mr Woo said.

  Claudie looked from left to right, hoping for a last
fleeting glimpse.

  ‘Goodbye, Claudie!’ Mary and Lily sang in unison.

  ‘He’s waiting for you!’ Jalisa’s voice whispered back.

  Claudie looked back at Simon, his hand extended towards her, and a sudden feeling of peace flooded though her body. Should she? Could she?

  She took a few tentative steps forward and took his hand in hers.

  Chapter 49

  The city of York was bathed in sunshine and had never looked more beautiful. Claudie had taken the whole day off work and had travelled in on an earlier train so that she could walk around the city at leisure.

  She started with the tourist trail: the cathedral, the Treasurer’s House, Clifford’s Tower and The Shambles. And then she did the credit card trail, spending two week’s wages on clothes from the boutiques that lined the backstreets.

  Then, armed with three fat bags of goodies, Claudie made her way to fifteen Elizabeth Street for her three o’clock appointment.

  It was with a heavy heart as well as heavy shopping bags that Claudie stepped into Dr Lynton’s study. This, she thought, would be her last time here. She looked around the room and knew she was going to miss it: the books, the plants, the chairs, and even the terrible tea.

  And Dr Lynton.

  ‘Tea?’ he asked as soon as she’d placed her carrier bags down.

  ‘Please,’ she said.

  ‘Milk and one sugar, isn’t it?’

  Claudie’s mouth fell open in surprise. ‘Yes.’

  ‘So, how was Paris?’ Dr Lynton asked, passing her a perfect cup of tea, a smile hovering over his lips.

  ‘Paris,’ she sighed, ‘was beautiful.’

  ‘So you and Kristen had a good time?’

  Claudie sat back in the chair and surveyed Dr Lynton. What should she tell him? The truth? Why not? Didn’t he deserved the truth on her final visit?

  ‘I didn’t go with Kristen. I went with Simon,’ she said, her voice clear and steady.

  ‘Simon? Simon of the bookshop?’

  Claudie nodded.

  ‘With the eyes like a Whitby sky in winter?’