by Jo Duchemin
I shivered, thinking how wrong that would feel to me. Marty moved his thumbs to my cheeks, mimicking the movement of the day when he wiped the tears from my cheeks.
“Once I’d spent time with you, once I’d touched your tears for myself, I hated the plan. I repulsed myself, trying to manoeuvre you into going out with him. I couldn’t understand what was happening to me. Normally, when the two people I’m trying to bring to destiny are talking, I feel a happiness, a fulfilment in my chest. Yet, when you talk to Ben, I want to stand between you.” He paused.
“I don’t fancy Ben. He’s a nice guy, but he isn’t the man for me. You are.”
“I know that, now. Did you know I didn’t even know what that emotion was called? I’d never experienced it before. It’s called jealousy. I was starting to see Ben as a rival for your affections.”
I recalled the confused expression I’d noticed on Marty’s face, in the pub, when I’d been talking to Ben and how out of character it was for him. That must have been when he experienced jealousy for the first time. I wanted to reassure him. “There is no rival for my affections. What else can you tell me?”
“Hmmm. Did you know all angels are messengers – that is our main purpose and then those of us, like me, who have served many years, have additional tasks. I am descended from Uriel. Have you heard of Uriel?”
“No, I honestly haven’t.” I suddenly wished my parents had been religious, wondering if Sunday school would have taught me about Uriel, thus preparing me for this moment.
“Uriel was the angel of destiny. His messengers are meant to bring people to their destiny – hence, I thought yours would be an easy assignment – Ben was clearly the right man for your destiny – he knew your parents, he was in the right town, he’s a nice guy. I’ve been angel of destiny for centuries. Yours should have been an open and shut case. It should have only taken me a matter of days, and I’d be back up there. But there isn’t anywhere I’d rather be than here.” He nuzzled my neck.
I didn’t want to ask my next question, but it was the one I couldn’t avoid.
“Marty, why did you say we’re on borrowed time? Is it because of you not getting older?” I hated the words coming out of my mouth.
Marty sighed. “I wish that were the only problem we faced. Angels are not meant to fall in love with humans. And no angel should allow a human to fall in love with them. For a guardian angel, such as myself, to allow the human he is guarding to fall in love with him, as you have – well, it is a complete taboo – unheard of, unmentionable. I’m still angry at myself for allowing it to happen, even though it is the best thing that has ever happened to me.” He looked deeply into my eyes. “There was a reason that I asked you not to tell me that you love me. That would alert all other angels to this and they would immediately summon me away from you. I have no idea what would happen to me then. I certainly would never be allowed to guard anyone again. And I would never be able to see you again.”
“This is why we had to be so careful outside of the house? If we carry on as we are, will they ever find out?” I was desperate for him to stay with me.
“Claudia, I think they already know something is wrong. I’d already told a friend that I was struggling with this assignment. I’ve been here for so long – at least double the length of time I would normally take to complete an operation like this one. It is only a matter of time until they realise what has happened.” He looked serious and his eyes glistened.
“What will happen then?” The words were croaky where I was getting upset.
“I’ll be gone forever.”
“How long do we have?” My tears had now spilled over.
“I don’t know. I can’t tell anymore. It’s like being with you blocks the signals I used to be able to get. Like I’m off the radar. It could be months, it could be just days.”
“Is there anything we can do?”
“We can only continue to avoid being affectionate in public and hope that they haven’t realised. We need to try to avoid drawing attention to ourselves.”
“In what way?”
“I have been overprotective of you – my display in the pub, putting the knife right through the table, is a prime example – I was so angry at putting you in danger, I used strength a normal man wouldn’t have. It didn’t seem to register with anybody that night, but that was a matter of luck. And I would use anything at my disposal to keep you safe.”
I wiped my tears away, and took a deep breath. I pulled myself together.
“Marty, if we don’t have much time left together, I don’t want to waste it crying, or worrying. I want to make the most of every moment.”
He pulled me close and whispered in my ear:
“I love you.”
Marty stayed with me in my bed again that night. Even if we were asleep, we wanted to spend every moment we could together. I woke up several times in the night, fearing he had disappeared, but every time I looked over, he was still there.
I was more than willing to play truant the next day, to suspend all plans in favour of staying at home with Marty, but he insisted that we had to keep up our usual routines. The last thing I felt like doing was going to a drama lecture, especially with the annoying Donna, but I had no choice. Knowing that I was enduring it to keep Marty with me made it far less painful.
I’d been so preoccupied during the last lecture that I had no idea whether I had any preparation that I should have completed for this lecture. I’d left home at the last minute, trying to savour every moment with Marty before we had to hide away our true feelings. He promised to meet me after my lecture and walk me home. That moment couldn’t come soon enough for me.
As I walked into the drama studio, I could feel the excited energy and anticipation in the room. I skulked to the back of the raked theatre seating, wishing to be as anonymous as possible for the next few hours. Pretending to read from my notebook, I listened in to the bubbling chatter of my fellow students. After a few minutes of subtle eavesdropping, I became aware that Donna was announcing the cast list for the show she was forcing us to partake in, at the start of this lecture. I couldn’t care less.
When I’d been younger, being an actress had been a dream of mine and even though I knew it would be hard, I did like the idea of pursuing that line of work. My parents had advised me to have a backup plan, so I’d settled on studying English, as well. This was not a hardship to me, as I adored reading and writing. I thought about how the old me, the me that hadn’t been an orphan, would have joined in the anticipation shared by my classmates. Yet, I was different to my classmates, different even to the me that had sat here not wanting to participate last week. I now knew that angels truly existed. And an angel was in love with me. Everything else paled in comparison.
The studio went silent when Donna walked in. I looked up from my notebook and began wishing for time to go faster. Every minute spent here was a minute away from Marty. Time stolen from our love.
“Right, I know you’re all dying to hear what parts you have been assigned for our little project, so here we go.” Donna sounded bored already. In a monotone, she listed the chorus. I was surprised not to hear my name yet, but didn’t dare put my hand up to ask her about it. With any luck, she’d forgotten to put me on the list and I could end up doing backstage management. She continued on with her list, interrupted occasionally, by gasps of excitement by those who were happy with their assigned roles and softly muttered groans by those who were disappointed. I started to tune out, wishing I could float up, out of the room, and find Marty. The sound of my name and the creak of the seats as people turned around to face me, snapped me back into the present moment.
“Claudia. You could at least pretend to be happy. I’m sure there are a dozen girls in here that would happily kill you for that role.” Donna stared at me and after a heartbeat, I understood why everyone was looking at me, most of them thoroughly unimpressed. I�
��d been chosen to play Lydia Mills, the lead character. I could feel my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. I cleared my throat.
“Er, Donna, I don’t think that…I’m not sure I’m right for Lydia. I’m not bold enough; I’m sure someone like…” I struggled to remember the names of any of my female classmates and trailed off.
“Karen Whitestone?” one of the other students suggested.
“Yes,” I continued, gratefully. “Wouldn’t she be amazing in the role?”
“Are you questioning my choices?” Donna’s voice was like ice. All the students’ heads turned simultaneously, as though they were watching a game of tennis. I had a feeling I was about to be aced.
“Of course not, I just wondered…” I didn’t know how to continue, it was clear I wasn’t going to win.
“Lydia Mills is an emotionally brittle, egocentric and damaged character who puts on a façade to cover her pain. You’re perfect for the role.” Donna stared straight at me. Somehow, she managed to make her compliment sting with criticism. I had to try one more time.
“But Lydia is supposed to be sexy and provocative – that isn’t me!” Some of my classmates sniggered and I could feel my cheeks beginning to burn.
“That’s the acting part.” Donna was deadpan, and I knew it was useless to try to convince her any further. I put my head down, resigned to the embarrassment, feeling waves of disapproval rolling off some of the other students. “Right, if Claudia has finally finished telling me how to do my job, can we begin for the day? I’d like all of you to collect the scripts at the front and we shall begin our read through.”
I managed to survive the rest of the lecture without getting any further comments from Donna. I did receive the occasional glare from some of the female cast members, who were probably as shocked as me that I had been given the lead role. As we read through the play, I did start to identify with the character of Lydia – her ‘head in the sand’ attitude to the impending end of her relationship struck a chord with me. At the end of the session, Donna thrust a CD into my hands.
“Learn the songs as quickly as you can. We don’t have time to mess around.” She walked away from me.
I threw the CD into my bag, and left the room as quickly as possible, desperate to see Marty, who was waiting just outside of the door. My heartbeat was rising with anticipation. I had to remind myself to calm down, slow down, and avoid displaying my true emotions. Acting had never been so critical.
Marty stood with his back leaning against a wall, achingly beautiful, wearing a leather jacket, looking the opposite of angelic. I had to remind myself that I shouldn’t let my imagination run away – he’d spelled out, clearly, the boundaries we had to comply with. He smiled broadly when he saw me, and my imagination went off for a sprint without my permission, flashing pictures in my head that would certainly have crossed Marty’s boundaries. I blushed at my thoughts.
“Hello, Claudia.” He moved towards me.
“Marty.” I almost breathed his name and reminded myself to keep the appearance of one friend greeting another. “How was your day?”
“I couldn’t be more glad to be heading home.” His smile had a secret in it, just for me.
“Me too.” I returned his smile. I paused. “I got the lead in the show.”
“You don’t seem happy about it.” He glanced down at me, as we started walking back home.
“I’m not. I can’t do it. I’m not right for the role.” I sighed, heavily, despite my pleasure at walking by his side.
“Of course you can, I have so much faith in you.” He smiled at me and I couldn’t help but smile back. We walked along, in comfortable silence, storing up our conversation for behind the closed doors of our home.
Out of nowhere, a heavy weight pressed on both my shoulders for a moment and then I saw Marty whirl around, so fast he was practically a blur; and the weight was gone. I turned around and saw Marty pinning Ben up against a wall.
“Marty, stop, it’s Ben!” I realised my voice was raised louder than I wished it to be, my panic making it sound more high pitched than usual.
“Jeez, Marty, I was only jumping on her shoulders. Overreaction much?”
Marty immediately released Ben, who began rubbing his arms where Marty had held him firmly against the wall. “Ben, I am so sorry. I thought…I didn’t realise…I thought you were stealing her handbag, my instinct took over. I can’t apologise enough. Really, I’m so sorry.” Marty looked crestfallen. “Did I hurt you, Ben?”
“No,” Ben replied, although I suspected the answer was yes. “Mate, you are so fast, you took me by surprise otherwise I would have pushed back.” I sensed that Ben’s male pride was slightly dented. I decided to step in, to try and divert attention.
“Ben, why were you jumping on my shoulders? Can’t you just say hello like a normal person?” I tried to keep my tone light, to eradicate the annoyance I felt for the intrusion on my time with Marty.
“Well, I’d just heard that you got the lead part in the show. Congratulations! We have to film and edit it, as a part of our course. You know what the costumes are like for that show, right? I think I’m going to enjoy this project.” Ben laughed and although I knew he was just joking, I felt an air of tension emanating from Marty. I joined in laughing, trying to lighten the mood.
“Oh, Ben, don’t remind me! I’m not looking forward to this one little bit.” I tried to steer the conversation away from the costumes, which I knew were going to be skimpy, to say the least. “I have loads of songs to learn, I’d better go home and start learning them. Are you going to be at rehearsals?” I was trying to be polite, but I just wanted to get rid of Ben and head home with Marty.
“I certainly will,” Ben smiled. “Especially the dress rehearsals! See you there, Claudia.” He walked off, giving what I perceived to be a slightly odd look to Marty on his way. Marty and I continued on our way home. He was quiet for a few minutes.
“I shouldn’t say this,” Marty broke the silence, “but I’m incredibly jealous.”
“We’re just friends – like me and you,” I added pointedly. I didn’t know if the other angels could hear our conversation and I didn’t want to make any mistakes on my part.
“What will these costumes be like?” Marty seemed preoccupied.
“I haven’t seen any for this production. Not even a sketch.” I was stalling and he knew that.
“But?” He wasn’t letting this go.
“But…I saw the movie a few years ago…it’s totally different to the stage version…like, Lydia is American in the movie and English in the script.”
“And?” He wasn’t distracted and I hadn’t expected him to be.
“And the outfits were…well…a bit on the skimpy side.”
“How skimpy?”
“Marty, I don’t think we should be having this conversation right now.” I was desperate to get home. I didn’t want to talk about this here.
“How skimpy?” Marty caught hold of my arm, not with any force, but with enough presence to make me stop.
“Marty…” I couldn’t have this discussion with him. “Why does it matter?”
He breathed deeply. Then he continued walking. My shorter legs struggled to keep up with his pace. We were back home in no time at all. The evening was cold, but dry, with just a strong wind blowing autumn leaves around our ankles. He carefully placed his key in the lock and ushered me into the house, gently placing his hand on my back.
The moment we were inside the hallway, he began kissing me, urgently, as though his need to protect me could only manifest itself in a physical expression. I felt giddy from his presence and intoxicated by his sensuality. Finally, he pulled away, reluctantly, from my lips.
“I’m sorry,” Marty murmured, kissing my hair, breathing in the scent of my shampoo.
“What for?” I was breathless, mesmerised by him, and I’d forgotten th
e earlier incidents.
“For being too…me…too much. I’m so sorry about forcing Ben against the wall – I thought you were being attacked. I couldn’t hold myself back. I can’t help thinking about you in skimpy costumes…” He trailed off and started kissing my neck.
“Did you want me to describe what it might look like?” I was flirting, despite knowing it couldn’t go anywhere. Marty made a soft sound in the back of his throat. Not a word, but affirmative nonetheless. I continued: “Well, in the film, she wore stockings, suspenders, hot pants, and a low cut black top, with a bowler hat.”
For an instant, Marty pulled me closer, and then he pulled silently away and walked up the stairs.
“Marty, I’m sorry…” I had no idea how to complete the sentence.
Marty walked on in silence for a few more moments and then, without looking back he said:
“No, I’m sorry.”
Chapter 10
I didn’t fall apart this time. Now I understood why he had to walk away when things got intense and intimate, it didn’t make me feel rejected. In a way, it was flattering – he was so attracted to me that it was unbearable to cope with the closeness. I decided to keep myself busy, until he came back down stairs, by cooking some dinner. I put Donna’s CD on, in the background, to start learning the songs.
I didn’t hear him enter the kitchen, I just felt his arms wrap around my waist, as I stirred a pot of pasta. He rested his head on my shoulder and kissed my neck, as though it was the most natural thing to do. I turned around and enveloped myself in him.
“I love you, Claudia,” Marty whispered.
I desperately wanted to return those words, but knew I shouldn’t. Instead, I kissed him, moulding my lips to the contours of his. The pasta started boiling over, reflecting my explosive, pent-up feelings. Reluctantly, I withdrew from Marty’s embrace to rescue the cooking. The music had changed to a new track, a slower, softer ballad, sung by a man. I served up the dinner and placed it on the kitchen table. Marty drew me back into his arms and we started swaying in time with the music. Our unrehearsed dance fitted beautifully to the music. Marty looked in my eyes.