Angel

by Kate Mitchell

  ‘I went to see him, but he wouldn't see me,’ he picked out one of the cherries from his glass and pushed it into his bright pink lipstick, coated mouth. ‘He asked where she was, and I said…’

  ‘Hang on,’ I wasn't exactly following this conversation. ‘I thought you said you didn't see him?’

  ‘That was another time, he wouldn't see me this time.’

  I was confused, but I played along. ‘Find someone else,’ was my advice. All I needed Hattie to do was to keep quiet about my identity.

  ‘It's not as easy as that. I love him.’

  ‘Well, it's pretty obvious to me that he doesn't love you. He loves her.’

  ‘He can't love her, not after what she did to him.’

  I guessed what he meant by 'did to him' was that she married someone else, John. ‘The grass is always greener on the other side,’ I was being glib. But I should know that, hadn't I done that to John? Hadn't he done that to me, and didn't I deserve what happened to me? Of course, I did. I was depressed. ‘Who can love anyone in this life?’

  ‘I love him. Do you know what love is?’

  Still holding his glass, there was one cherry left. I couldn't help thinking that this typified my life. I was a washed-up battered cherry that had been caught in its own glass globe.

  ‘I don't suppose you can in the line of work you are in,’ he complained to his cherry.

  I may be depressed, but this caught my attention. ‘Line of business? So, you know what line of business I was in?’ did he know everything about me from start to finish?

  ‘It's written all over your face. I could tell what you are a mile away. I caught you snooping in his room.’

  ‘And from that, you deduced, what?’

  ‘You're never a nanny or a childminder, never in a million years. And those scars on your face are a dead giveaway.’

  I was shocked that he knew everything about me. ‘Perhaps we can help each other,’ for now I was worried and desperate.

  ‘What; a cop help me, I don't think so,’ he popped the last cherry into his mouth and looked towards the drinks table.

  Automatically, I stood up and took his glass out of his hand and walked to the drink's table so he couldn’t see my face. How did I suddenly become a policewoman when I thought I had always been John's wife and a fashion editor? And yet, he thought I was a cop. There must be a good reason why. If he thought I was a police officer, then I would be a police officer. I poured us both out another drink, and this time, I added three cherries to his glass.

  ‘So, you’ve found out about me? What gave the game away, surely it wasn't just me being slightly nosy or the scars?’

  Holding out his glass of mixed up whatever it was, he took it. He suddenly seemed to be satisfied with himself as if he had won some sort of a triumph. ‘It was a hunch, it's the way you held yourself. You were far too cocky to be a nanny.’

  ‘So, what are you going to do about it?’

  ‘No, the point is, what are you going to do about it and how much do you know?’

  ‘Now that would be telling,’ I had no idea what he was talking about, but I was prepared to go along with him.

  ‘I believe I'm on the right track here, I believe you are not what you seem.’

  ‘Okay, I'm listening.’

  ‘You're not doing this legally, are you?’

  ‘Carry on.’ I was watching him, waiting to hear his thoughts.

  ‘No one else knows you are here?’

  ‘You could be right.’

  ‘You're here because of the money,’ he said now waiting to hear my answer, he was excited. ‘You're a crooked cop.’

  ‘And what if I am? You could tell the police force, who have incidentally put me on this case to sort it out,’ I sipped my drink casually while thinking that I've got to believe in myself, I must not be confused, I've got to make this work. Fear and excitement were having an effect on me, I had never felt like this since the first time I picked a man up to have an affair, the one which should have terminated John's and my marriage. ‘But to my bosses, I'm just doing my job.’

  ‘You're after the money, aren't you?’

  To this, I could be absolutely honest. ‘Yes, it is the money I want, it's the real reason why I'm here.’

  ‘Well, I want him, and I think if we are clever, we can both have what we want. If you help me get him out, then I'll help you to get the money.’

  ‘And what if I agree to this proposition – I'm not committing myself yet, but when you say about getting the man out you love, where is he?’

  ‘As if you don't know, he is where you lot put, in prison.’

  Shocked, I felt the breath in my breast catch me as if to stop me from going on. Was I playing a dangerous game, I think the answer to that had to be yes? ‘As much as I would like to do this for you, I think even I have diminished powers.’

  ‘I've been thinking about what you can do, ever since you came here.’

  ‘What? You want me to bake a cake and put a file in it?’

  ‘No,’ he was angry. If he thought I was being sarcastic, I was. ‘You have influence. I know you have influence.’

  ‘Perhaps I do, but who is this Janice?’

  ‘That’s the second time you’ve asked me.’ He was staring at me.

  ‘I'm just checking to see if you know who she is,’ I was beginning to lose confidence. How do some people manage to bluff themselves out of difficult situations?

  ‘Janice and Angel are one and the same person, dear,’ he kept his eyes on me.

  I who had never been able to keep my patience, the person who could not wait for things to happen but made them happen and took whatever the consequences came with it. I, who John had once called as being over-the-top and had always been known to be dramatic. The soap opera star, as one of my colleagues had once called me as they listened to the next episode of our lives, their lives being so boring. I had not trained my expression to be neutral. And in my mind came the voice, warning me not to react, reacted with a deadpan face. Inside I was clapping my latest performance.

  ‘Yes,’ I said by way of a reply. ‘But can I ask, because there are some holes in my knowledge, did John know about this, I mean about Angel?’

  ‘Now that’s the million-dollar question, and one I'm surprised you're interested in.’ He cocked his head to one side as if he really was astonished. Yet, it was a question I was curious about so, he decided he would answer it. ‘Somehow, I don't think he did; I never really spoke to him that much. He was never at home, so he never knew what was going on.’

  ‘Did he love her?’ I could not help myself asking this one very important question for me. I had not been a good wife, but at least I was honest in my dealings with John.

  ‘Love her; what does that matter now?’

  ‘Well, you never know,’ I had exposed my weakness. ‘He could be in on it. And if he loved her, then he could have helped her.’

  ‘Perhaps, he could have done but he's dead now.’

  The door opened and in walked Angel. She looked at us both with anger.

  ‘I see you two have made yourselves comfortable,’ in a temper she kicked her shoes off and suddenly she shrunk in size.

  A surprise because she could not have been five feet in height; there was a storm brewing in her very pretty blue eyes.

  ‘You're getting yourselves drunk on my booze?’

  ‘No sweetie, we were both waiting up for you, we were worried about you. You know how much I love and adore you,’ said Hattie, he was smiling at Angel, but his eyes showed terror. ‘What went wrong, sweetie? Did things not go according to your plans?’

  Her eyes hit his as surely as if she struck him. ‘Why are you asking me these questions?’ she quickly glanced towards me. ‘I think it's time Hattie you took yourself to bed. You’re drunk,’ and then she looked at me. ‘And you should be checking on my son and not checking up on me.’

  Picking up my glass, I left the room carrying my thoughts with me. The sweet, compliant, pi
nk blancmange was not as innocent and stupid as she appeared at first to be. The sudden change in her disposition was disconcerting, and I wasn't sure if I liked her this way, she was not as malleable as she was before. The boxing gloves were off. But I suppose now, I knew where I stood. She was definitely my enemy, but I hadn’t come here to make friends with her. I had come here to get my share of the money. And yet, there seemed to be more questions than answers. Honestly John, what did you get yourself into?

  Before going to my bedroom, I remembered J.J, whose only crime was to be born to this bitch. Quietly opening the bedroom door, I found him sleeping. He had been tidied up. The only person to do this was Mary, the only person here who wasn’t out for herself. Even now with me being here, she was still making sure the child was cared for.

  It was novel to me to see a child asleep, I had always believed my philosophy of survival was not to like children. Now looking at this child, this resolution still rang true. But who was the father of this child, because I was sure it wasn’t John's anymore? The insecurity, doubts, and fears that it was John's had fled? In this, John had been faithful in his way by being unable to father a child. But had he known of this child who was being raised and named as his own?

  Nine months of gestation and this baby was perhaps, five months old. How long had John been gone? Well, let me see. I had been split from John for seven months, it was a quick divorce because there were no children and of course, let's not forget, I more or less told John's lawyer to tell John to stuff it and keep the lot. That was when I was cocky and stupid. Now I had come full circle to magnificently regret how life can turn on a pinhead.

  The last breath to enter John's lungs was eleven months ago, which could have made it the time that I was in the hospital. And then I gasped, my hand to my mouth and then to my chest where my heartbeat like a bullet on its way to the end. John's death could have coincided on the very day I had my accident. I had nearly died on the day that John died. How romantic, if you believe in coincidental nightmares.

  Sometimes, some people just have bad luck. I was aware just lately, my luck had been bad, there is nothing wrong with bad luck, but just don't make a habit of it. But on that day, John's succession of supposedly good luck ran out for sure, and pretty, little plump pink Angel had been there to scramble up the pieces. No one can live on good luck forever. One day even pretty pink Angels must fall. Perhaps I am the one to help her topple. Her world did not seem so sickly satisfactory as it did before.

  So, when John left this world, this child would have been three months’ worth of life and another six months to wait before stepping out. It was possible that John knew of Angel's pregnancy but the interesting aspect for me is, did he go along with it? Did he accept this was going to be his child? Did he also realize she had been playing him for a fool? I told John I was pregnant which was the reason, or so I thought, he married me. He knew there was no way I was with child. So, perhaps, when she told him, perhaps he knew she too was faking it in order to marry him? But then he died. I shrugged; everything is conjectural.

  10

  The following morning came too quick, I heard the noise coming from J. J’s bedroom and slipping into my dressing gown, wandered to see what was going on. Mary was changing the child, he was sitting in a baby bath and yelling his head off, indignant because he had no clothes on.

  ‘He stinks,’ she said upon seeing me. ‘He doesn't like being washed, but the library video on childcare said that children must be thoroughly clean. Otherwise, he'll get bedsores or some other dreadful rash.’ She picked him up as if he was a pound of dough and placed him on a towel. He did not like this either, I saw with shock there were real tears falling down his cheeks.

  You know when you get a presentiment and you don't know for sure what it is, but you know for certain that something unmistakably wrong is going to happen? Well, this was the feeling I was getting when I was watching Mary drying the child. And no, it had nothing to do with concern for the child, it was a feeling of unease about myself. I thought I had better take a bit more interest in this child, it was the main reason why I was here.

  ‘Do you think you might be a little rough on him?’ I asked. Not the most sensitive of questions to ask, but the business I had been in didn’t require one to be tactful. Why do you think in the fashion industry people always have long nails, and that includes men?

  Naturally, she looked astonished, in fact, insulted. ‘I'm doing what you should be doing. If you think you can do any better then, go ahead.’

  ‘I’ll give it a go,’ I began rolling my sleeves up. ‘Where are his clothes?’

  ‘Look for them,’ she said opening the door to leave, ‘And don't forget his diaper,’ and she was out closing the door with a hearty slam.

  I looked at the child and smiled and decided to add up my pros before totaling the cons. He had stopped crying, which was a plus, although the way the child was looking at me now made me distinctly nervous.

  ‘Co-operation,’ I smiled at the child, ‘If we both work together the world would be a better and a happier place for us both, I'm sure.’

  Fortunately, Mary had already collected his clothes together. I was surprised at how much the child wore. Definitely not fashionable attire but at least the nappies were quite easy to figure out on how to put on. It was only afterward, once I had stuck his diaper together with the tabs that I saw the pot of cream. Inspecting the jar, I read this cream had to be used on his bottom and so the diaper had to come off.

  He was dressed, and I was feeling very pleased with myself because just in time, J. J’s bedroom door opened and in walked the mother. Angel did not look happy to see me, gone were her sugared looks of engineered stupidity.

  ‘Do you want to hold your son?’ I held out the child to her, it was a form of defense.

  Angel looked at me for a moment and then quickly disappeared from the room. After I had taken J.J to the kitchen to feed him, I took him for a walk. It was after this that I heard about Angel and the reason why she was up so early.

  Still eating his breakfast, I found Hattie. He let me know that I had a near escape and that Angel was thinking about terminating my employment. The reason being, I was asking too many questions and was proving not to be whom I seemed.

  Truthfully, I was listening to what Hattie was telling me, if not paying full attention. I had my future in mind and it was looking bright. Helping myself to some coffee, I hesitated to change my mind for the jug of fresh orange juice. We had done an article or, in actual fact many articles at the magazine about healthy eating, I had planned many of the recipes, borrowed from others and added my own little flourish.

  It was about time I really started looking after myself because I now had a future to eat for. I was in a positive mood. Taking some porridge, I helped myself to some hot milk. I've never eaten breakfast before, well at least not since I was a child, and once I had escaped from my parents' home and the rules, I never touched breakfast again. Eating breakfast in the fashion world is not fashionable. This porridge now sat there in front of me eyeing me with critical attention. Picking up my juice, I wondered if Hattie remembered about last night. He had.

  ‘She doesn't suspect anything yet, but I know she’s getting nervous,’ Hattie began. He looked to the door and then back to me. ‘We've got to be very careful about how we handle this. I don't know if you are aware of how dangerous she is.’

  ‘Oh, I have some idea,’ I was trying to be very blasé.

  ‘We can't afford to make any mistakes, not with her. She looks innocent, but she’s not.’

  ‘I understand,’ I nodded assuredly. I mean, honestly, she was a female just like me, what was there to be fearful of? And why should I fear a female who had no taste in clothes? And another thing, I was taller than her, at least five inches taller.

  ‘You promise to keep to your side of the deal which we agreed last night?’

  ‘Of course, I never drop out of an agreement, especially when there is something in it for me.
’ I was thinking about my face and how much I would like to have the scars removed and then, I would need money to start me off in my own business venture. It was pointless being blind about the situation, which was my age. I was elderly for the fashion business. No one would employ me no matter what my qualifications were. I was now nearly forty-three. The only way I could be in the fashion business now was to set up my own concern. Nothing too big, a nice little office with a staff of four. It would be more of a fashion consultancy for events like weddings, society balls, and other charity events, if people could afford me, of course.

  ‘Yeah, yeah, you'll get your money, but I want you to do something for me.’

  ‘So, what do you want me to do?’ I asked thinking about where I would like my select and unflashy office to be. There were a couple of people, I knew who would work well alongside me.

  ‘I want you to go and visit Jacob, Barba.’

  ‘Okay,’ I looked up, listening but not listening, for I was visualizing the color of my office and the furniture I would have. Floors are very important in offices. People always look at their feet when they feel self-conscious and shoes also say a great deal in the fashion world. That was something I found very satisfactory with John, though he never threw anything away he always made sure he wore good footwear. Not fashionable footwear but good quality shoes. Something I approved of. ‘Where is he?’

  ‘In prison, where else would he be?’

  This startled me, I had never been inside a prison before, and the thought of it gave me the creeps. It would also ruin the new image I was creating for this new and advancing me. ‘But I don't know him. And wouldn't I need an invitation from him to go and see him?’

  ‘You're in the police force, I'm sure you can wrangle something.’