by Liam Livings
“I’ll leave you to it. Love you.”
“Love and light to you.” The phone clicked.
I quickly rang Mum to see how she was.
“Been trying to get that DVD you posted me to work, but the machine doesn’t seem to like it. Thought I’d watch it before Sandra Next Door comes round to do a bit of sewing on these dresses we’re making.”
“Have you taken out the DVD that was in there before?” I rolled my eyes and chewed my cheek while she followed my instructions.
“How’d you know that?”
“Wild guess.” Something you do every time you use the DVD player. “Working now?”
“Oh, it’s got that man I like, off the thing with the woman, on the other side.”
“I’ll leave you to it. I was just calling for a chat.”
“Hang on a minute. I’ve stopped it now. The film can wait. What’s new with you? Work all right, settling in, are you?”
I put her on speakerphone and whiled away a chatty hour talking about everything and nothing in particular until she said she really did want to see the man off the thing with the other woman, and I left her to enjoy the DVD.
Hours before Bobby would return, I got a tub of ice cream from the freezer and a spoon—late lunch—and flicked on the TV. I fell asleep in a sugar-induced coma and woke to my mobile ringing. It was John’s number.
“Hello, sir. I’m at home. That’s okay, isn’t it? You did say go home, didn’t you?”
“Yes. That’s fine. You stay there and rest up well. I want you to come onto a special project team. You’re going to be the Wealth Management expert. It’s a hand-picked team of people from across the business, and I want you to represent my team. Okay?”
“Really? I mean yes, of course. What’s the project about, sir?”
“Top secret. Can’t tell you now. All I can say is it’s new product development, but exactly what the new product is, we’re not yet sure. That’s what the team’s going to look at.” He paused, and I heard his breathing down the phone. “See you Monday. Wear your best suit and tie. You might be meeting clients.” And he put the phone down.
I had a spoonful of melted ice cream and returned to the TV.
Bobby swept in the door with another of his regular bunches of flowers and boxes of chocolates. He kissed me as I sat on the sofa.
I leant up to meet his mouth and reached round to squeeze his perfect bum with both hands. “What’s this in aid of?”
“Never mind that, why are you here now? Please don’t tell me you’ve been sacked again.”
I told him about the special project team and what John had told me to do. “I’ve had a great afternoon. It’s so much more decadent lazing about at home for an afternoon when you actually have a job. I got so used to it before that I didn’t think anything of it. Now it’s a rare treat again. Even better that you’re back early.” I pulled him down to kiss him again.
He reciprocated, then said, “Before we do, how do you fancy another play date with Alex?”
“I think we need to talk about it a bit first. Once was enough for me.” I bit my lip and stared at him.
Chapter 27
All alone in the flat, I’d been stroking the white feathers from the pint glass for a while. I sat, cross-legged in the living room, holding them tightly, with my eyes shut, calling to see if anybody was up there. This was a very strange sensation, since I didn’t believe in God and never prayed, not since Sunday school as a small boy. But I did believe in the guardian angels because I’d seen not just one, but two, and had proper conversations with them, so there was no arguing with that.
I ran myself a bath and poured in the Dead Sea salt, which Bobby had picked up for me on a business trip to Tel Aviv.
I stared at the mirror as it steamed up in front of my eyes. Nothing in the background. Not a dark shadow, not the faint outline of a man or a woman. Nothing.
Bugger.
I climbed into the bath and let the heat and steam transport me away, and I drifted into a gentle sleep.
“All right?” A male voice filled the room.
I’m dreaming. Let’s see what he says next.
“Richard? I’m not meant to be here, but you kept fiddling with the feathers and I just couldn’t leave you looking like a pillock, trying to summon me like a genie. I have special dispensation because the situation isn’t usual. In fact, you could say it’s quite unusual. So can you open your eyes, Richard?”
Blimey, this is a boring dream. I wonder where it’s going?
“I’ve not got all day—I’ve got to get back. Roll some dice. See where they take me, or you. It would be awfully helpful if you opened your eyes.”
So I opened my eyes. There was a thin man with a little pigeon chest, standing next to the bath. He wore skinny white trousers and a white vest. Behind him I noticed two large white-feathered wings. Fuck it, here it goes again. I leant forward to cover my modesty.
“It’s a bit late for that, Richard. I’ve seen it all before. You know we can see you any time we want. Sky told you that, I know. I read the handover notes.”
“Handover notes? Who are you? Are you some civil servant angel or something? And what have you done with Sky?”
“Do you want to get out, or shall we continue like this? Is the water cold?” the skinny angel asked.
“I’m fine like this. It’s hot still. Who are you?”
“I’m Luke. I’ve been sent to take over from Kylie, who’s gone on to pastures new. She’s covering some woman in Yorkshire whose angel broke his leg so he’s having some compassionate leave.”
“What happened to Sky? When am I getting him back?” Never mind about Kylie and the woman in Yorkshire and the angel with the broken leg! I looked at Luke the skinny angel. “New to this, are you? Or have you got a lot of experience filling in and angelic temping all over the world?”
“Ah yes, I was told you’d probably ask that. If you’ll just wait, I have a statement they prepared for me to read you in this eventuality.” He took the leather-bound book—The Guardian Angel’s Handbook XP Professional—from behind his back, coughed a bit theatrically, turned a few pages, then began reading. “It came to our attention that you developed an inappropriate relationship with Sky. During his absence we felt it best if he did not return to his post. We would like to welcome you to your new guardian angel, Luke. Ends.” He looked up from the book at me. “Oh, I didn’t need to read the ends bit, but I thought I would, just in case you didn’t know it had ended. When it had. Sorry. Any questions?”
Any questions? I had a list as long as my arm. “What inappropriate relationship? I never touched him. I couldn’t touch him because—” I reached out for Luke’s face, and my hand went straight through it. “—that happens. See. So how did I have an inappropriate relationship with someone I can’t touch? It’s ridiculous.”
“Ah, yes. They said you’d probably want to ask some questions. So I have some Frequently Asked Questions, which they prepared for me. All part of the Professional Edition upgrade, apparently.” He flicked the book a few pages on and scanned down the page. “Wonderful, here we are.” He coughed, then read. “Physical relations are not the only manifestation of inappropriate relations. We noticed inappropriate viewing, inappropriate conversations, and inappropriate amounts of time spent with said guardian angel, Sky.”
I remembered looking up his man skirt and staring at his chest. No arguing with that. “But nothing happened. It couldn’t. And I didn’t know the meter was running when he was talking to me. If I had, I’d have told him to go back. If it meant I could see him again.”
“It’s not your responsibility to do that. It was his, but he didn’t. And that’s why I’m here.”
“Can’t I at least say goodbye to him? Send him a little message?”
Luke shook his head. “And you’ll note, I hope, that I have been allocated to you to avoid the same issue repeating itself.” He tucked the book behind his wings then held both hands out to the sides.
“I’m hardly what you’d call of Greek God-esque stature, am I? They realised that was your, shall we say, type, and so I’m definitely against that type.”
I couldn’t argue with that. If he were the last man on earth, I’d still have plumped for time with myself rather than with him. But I didn’t tell him that. “So, how come me and Bobby are getting on so well? I thought Sky was helping it along, since he gave us his blessing.”
He held his hands up in a camp, defensive gesture. “Hang on a minute, there. I don’t think you can lay all this at Sky’s door. I think you’ll find I’ve only been minding you for the last month or so. When did you get the job at the bank?”
“Couple of weeks ago.”
“That was me. Well, it was me with your talent I used in the best way… you know how it works. But as for the relationship stuff, I’ve not read through Kylie’s handover notes. In fact, I’ve searched high and low, and I can’t seem to find them. I must speak to my supervisor about where they’ve got to.”
“You’ve got two hopes of getting those notes from Kylie: no hope and Bob Hope, and Bob’s dead. Even I know the temps only do the bare minimum. She stopped me falling under a train and dying generally was avoided. But as for anything else, not so much. So handover notes… you’ve got no chance.”
“Oh. Well, it seems you know my job better than I.”
“Must have been all the chats I had with Sky. All the unauthorised ones, eh?” I smiled sarcastically.
He retrieved the book from his wings and flicked through it slowly. “I can’t find anything in here about that. It mentions nothing about notes or whether the temps should do them or not.”
“How about I’d say not, then, wouldn’t you?”
There was silence except for the rustling of Luke rifling through his book. I broke the silence. “So, there’s no chance of me seeing Sky again?”
“That’s why I’ve been allocated. I thought I’d explained it to you. I could do you a diagram if you want—it would be an awfully simple one, though.”
“No need to be sarcastic, Luke.”
“Okay, then, Richard.” He smiled. “I’ll be off, shall I? Unless there’s anything else you’d like to ask me? I’ve got a big role-playing games duel I’m going to be late for. I’ve been polishing my dice for hours.”
“That’s what you’re playing up there? When you’re not minding me?” I asked, incredulous.
“We need to have a break sometimes. It’s very diverting, I find. I do enjoy that it’s a mixture of chance, with the dice, and skill too. Did you know the singular for dice, is die?”
I rolled my eyes—inside. If this carried on much longer, I would certainly die. “Can I expect any dramatic changes in my relationship now you’re here?” I paused and swirled the now lukewarm water around my body. “That is what you’re here for, isn’t it? To guide me through life’s difficulties?”
“Yes, that’s certainly what I’m here for. Says so in the handbook. It was in the first day’s induction. I took pages of notes, so I remember it well.”
“I thought you might have. And… the relationship. Do I need to prepare for stormy weather, since it’s all been going so well lately? Are you experienced enough?”
“Oh, yes. I’m sure I can pull something together. Just give me a couple of days, and I’ll do my magic. Oh, but it’s not magic, of course. Just to make that clear. We don’t deal in magic. It’s chance, guidance, and making the best of what you have. Not magic.” He smiled weakly, then turned to his notebook.
“He’s so kind to me. I didn’t think it would work, but it does. Even after the incident with Alex, he’s been so apologetic, I couldn’t have asked for more. I thought it was all down to Sky’s blessing, but now I don’t know what to think.”
Luke shook his right hand. Then he blew on it. He threw some dice, and they landed on the bathroom floor. “Five and three. Well, that’s eight.”
“And that means?” I leant over the edge of the bath to look at the dice.
“I’ve absolutely no idea. I forgot to allocate decisions to each of the numbers. Hang on. I’ve got a pen and paper.” He got the pen from behind his back and started to write on the notepad.
“Could you do that when you’re not on the clock, do you think?” I offered.
“Oh yes, good idea. I’ll get straight onto it when I’m back. I think I have some different dice I can use. They might help.”
I smiled, but it didn’t reach my eyes. “Please don’t mess it all up for me. Not now it’s going so well with Bobby. Can you promise me you’ll steer it in the right direction?”
If I wasn’t going to see Sky again, I wanted to give my all to the real physical man in my life and keep that relationship going.
He coughed. “They said you’d probably ask this. Let me check my Frequently Asked Questions again.” He opened the Handbook and turned a few pages. “Oh, here we go.” He smiled. “The guardian angel is permitted to steer and influence the outcome of real-life events.”
“But what about—”
And he was gone in a cloud of green smoke, leaving behind a slight smell of antiseptic.
I stared at the sink, where he’d been perched, earnestly taking notes on my love life. I knew there and then, I had two hopes of him helping with that, and I also knew about those two hopes, didn’t I?
“I thought we could meet Alex at the pub, have a few drinks, then another play date.” Bobby said one evening.
Another play date? “But… I thought we said…. Where are you going?” I didn’t want to go to all the faff of schlepping into central London.
“The George, round the corner. I’ll get you a drink for when you arrive. I’ve got to go. I said I’d meet him in ten minutes.” He looked at his watch, then left.
I needed time to think, so I took the long route via the graveyard and was just about to enter when the old man appeared from nowhere and locked the gates. “I’ve been waiting for you. Wondered when you were going to turn up. Bit late now, though.”
“I just wanted to be somewhere on my own for a bit.”
“Why’s that, I wonder?”
And then I found myself telling him about Alex’s return and the imminent play date, and he listened, nodding slowly throughout. “So, what should I do?” I stared at him hopefully.
“Have you spoken to Luke about this?”
“How do you know about him?”
He opened his hands like a book in front of his face, while bowing his head.
Brilliant. Marvellous. Fantastic. What the buggery bollocks am I supposed to make of that? “I didn’t know Alex would be back again, and I didn’t want Luke messing up everything I’ve got with Bobby. One thing at a time, I thought, with Luke. He seemed a bit…. And I want to see Sky again. Do you know how I can do that?”
In for a mad, creepy old man’s penny, in for mad, creepy old man’s pound, I suppose.
He looked up, put his hands back into a clasping pose in front of his chest, and said, “There is a way.”
“So, what is it? A clue? Is it in a book?” I made the Pictionary sign for a book. “A film?” The sign for a film. “Or a play?” I finished with the usual sign for a play, then squeezed my eyes closed, wishing with my whole being that his response would make sense. I opened my eyes, and he was nowhere to be found.
Brilliant. Marvellous. Fantastic.
One round of drinks later, Alex was telling us about someone he’d gone to uni with, who he met on the Tube one night. “He looked at me, and I could tell he was working out if I was married or had a girlfriend or anything. He looked at him.” He nodded to Bobby. “And this friend didn’t know what to say. So I said to him—it was hilarious. I mean, so funny on the Tube, ’cause everyone’s looking, but they’re pretending not to look, but they’re all listening, aren’t they? So I said to him, I wasn’t married because I liked cock. And as the doors opened right after I said it, we got off. He was staring with his mouth open, and so were all
the other passengers. It was hilarious. I tell you, hilarious.”
Bobby smiled at Alex, then me.
It was certainly something. Hilarious, not so much. But it was certainly something.
Alex started to tell another story about something which had happened in his life that he was sure we’d want to hear about.
I finished my pint, squeezed Bobby’s shoulder. “I’m not in the mood. I said we should talk about doing it again. We haven’t. So I’m not doing it. Besides, I’ve got a headache. See you later, alone.”
I lay on our bed, trying to focus on the fun we’d had there rather than the awkward feeling of Alex and Bobby laughing and drinking in the pub.
Bobby’s work bag was on the floor next to a pile of his shoes. The top was open, revealing some papers.
Just a little look. Nothing sinister. Just to see what it is he really does all day. Just out of interest.
And it was open anyway: it wasn’t like opening a letter or actually opening the bag. The papers could have fallen onto the floor when he dropped it, so I’d have to tidy them up to replace them in the bag. And while I was doing that, it just so happened that I’d read what they were about.
I knelt next to the bag and sifted through some papers, at first the ones poking out of the bag, but then I dived farther in. I picked up the bag and sat on the bed, tipping its contents out.
I scanned through the papers: reports, agendas of meetings, some payslips, and then I saw his work diary. Do I open that, or is that an intrusion too far? I held it and felt the fake leather cover against my fingers. Its shininess was attractively seductive.
“No,” I said to no one. I put the diary back in the bag.
As I reached the bottom of the bag, I noticed some old minutes of a meeting from a few months ago. Strategic direction, vertical integration. Bobby’s name was at the top under attendees, then as I scanned down, I noticed another familiar name—Alex Clements. It was three people below Bobby’s in the column of attendees for the meeting. At Bobby’s PR agency.