The next day Anya was out shopping with Miss Marple when she saw Chief Inspector Slack speeding by in a police car with a strange man sitting beside him. She stopped and stared as the car raced down the street, beeping at carts and other cars to get out of its way. Through the window she caught sight of the Inspector looking at her, probably attempting to figure out her mystery, or thinking how mad she was and perhaps wondering if he should have her sent to an institution. He was gone in the next instant, racing away to another crime scene somewhere, completely unaware that he was leaving his angel behind when she should be by him at all times for protection. She sighed and followed Miss Marple into the department store.
Marple turned her head to see Anya follow behind her after a fashion, looking worn and dejected. She placed a hand on the young woman's arm to reassure her. "Everything will work out fine in the end, my dear, you'll see." Anya looked at her and cracked a small smile.
"I just saw him come by in a car and stare at me most suspiciously, as if he thought he was looking at the world's biggest loony," she whispered, clasping her hands together. Miss Marple smiled.
"Perhaps he was admiring your dress, dear, and wondering why he had turned down so beautiful a woman, such that he will never see again in all his days. That dress suits you well, my dear." Anya smiled and glanced down at the dress Miss Marple had given her. It was an old dress that the woman had kept from her younger days, a lovely periwinkle blue one that was a bit old-fashioned for Anya's tastes, but nonetheless seemed to compliment her nicely as a whole. She certainly had been receiving quite the stares from a number of men she had seen that morning as the two women made their way around the town to complete a number of errands. Miss Marple had wrapped her hair into a loose bun on the top of her head, having been rather surprised at the state of her long hair hanging loose yesterday the first time they met.
"The country may be changing, Anya, but some things are still the same regarding a woman's attire. I have seen more and more women growing out their hair and leaving it loose, but I still like the idea of keeping one's hair back," she had said. Anya had let her do what she would with her hair, wrapping it into the bun and then making two thin braids to wrap around her head, giving her a rather distinguished look as if her station in life were higher than it was. She had thought to argue, but Marple had been insistent on what she wished her hair to look like. "There is no cause for an angel to look like a beggar woman," she had said, swiftly quelling any opposition from Anya.
They were not five minutes within the small store when the old woman let out a small cry of "Oh!" and turned swiftly, nearly knocking Anya from her feet. "What is it, Miss Marple?" she asked, grabbing the woman beneath her arms to keep her on her feet.
"Oh forgive me, dear, but I just had a thought on what you should do. Yes, that would do nicely. Here, give me that basket," she said, taking the small wicker basket full of bread and cakes from Anya's arm and placing it over her own. "Now, Anya, you shall follow the Inspector, and from now on whenever he goes on a case, especially a potentially dangerous one. You need to be by him in case sudden dangers overtake him, yes? Then you must be on hand if something happens, and by being there and showing him what you can do, you will be sure to convince him of your sincerity in being what you have told him you are. Now, by flying you should be able to overtake his automobile quickly, yes? Is there something you can do to prevent anyone from seeing you as you fly?" Anya nodded.
"Yes, I do have the power to shield myself from most humans. But I will not be shielded from anyone who believes in angels. If they should look up, they would see a woman flying over them without any means of flight as my wings cannot be seen by any human eyes." She smiled slightly as she wondered what the possible expressions on the faces of such people would be. Oh it would frighten them, no doubt, but she rather thought their looks of astonishment would make her laugh forever. Miss Marple nodded in her business-like manner and shooed the angel off, neatly shoving her out of the small store.
"Once you are finished, come back to the house and relate to me all that has happened. Promise me you shall do this, Anya," she called after her and the angel waved back, reassuring her that she would do just as the old woman asked. Marple smiled and headed back into the store, a small spring in her step as she began her long wait to see how this plan of hers would work out. She hoped the poor dear would succeed in convincing the stern Inspector of her sincerity. It would not take two or three times, but very likely more than she would like to count for him to accept the poor angel into his life.
As Marple was thinking how long it would take her to convince the Inspector, Anya was ducking behind a building to shift into a sort of iridescent form only those who believed in the thought of angels could see. To those people she would appear as a shimmering, translucent woman soaring above them without any obvious contraption to allow her to fly. She smiled once more as she thought of the faces of those few people and let her large wings spread out to either side, stretching them out from their long-time folded position. She flapped a few times, testing the wind, and looked around self-consciously to see that no eyes were on her before she bent her knees slightly and thrust down hard with her wings, launching herself effectively into the air. The wind immediately tousled her hair and she felt the bun coming loose. Soon she was too lost in the feeling of flying again that she ignored the loosening bun and allowed herself a brief spell of blissful ignorance of everything around her as she flew slowly through the skies, soaring high above the few trees dotting the sides of the now-tiny village of St. Mary Mead beneath her.
The honking of a horn suddenly caught her attention and she peered down in the direction of the sound, folding her wings and plummeting to the earth in an effort to see clearly who it was beeping. It did not take long for her to see what the source of the sound was. Inspector Slack's car was caught behind a slow-moving tractor pulling a wagon piled high with hay from the field it had just left. Anya banked to the right to come above the car the Inspector was in and stayed above it as the driver whipped around the tractor at the first chance he had before speeding off to the sight of the crime scene. It was almost dull flying so slowly above the car to keep up with it but Anya stuck to the car as if she were tethered there by an invisible rope, dutifully staying as close as possible.
The car and the angel stayed on the same road for some time before a sign announcing the upcoming driveway of a Fox Hall had the driver turning to the left down a gravel drive that led down for roughly a few hundred yards before they rounded a corner, displaying one of the most beautiful homes Anya had ever seen before. There were already two police cars there before them with four officers standing to the side awaiting their Chief Inspector.
Anya halted in the air, allowing the car to continue on without her toward the other two while she began scoping out the Hall. A rather frazzled-looking woman appeared just as the Inspector was getting out of the car, and ran straight up to him squealing and crying about her dead husband found in the library and who had done this terrible thing to him? Who would want to kill her quiet, well-mannered husband? He had no enemies, no! No one she knew of would want to hurt him, so why was he lying in a puddle of his own blood? Oh please, Inspector, could he help her, please?
"Rest assured, ma'am, that we are going to do everything we can to find out what happened to your husband," he recited boredly, brushing past the wailing woman with disinterest, his eyes poised ahead on the crime scene that lay inside the grand building. Anya, retaining her translucent form, flew slowly toward the police cars as the men began to file in to have a look at their crime scene, hovering just a few inches above the ground so her dress would not drag across the still-dewy grass. The woman followed in after the men quickly but Anya slowed her pace as she noticed that the man who had sat beside the Inspector had stayed behind to get a suitcase from the back of the car. She halted her progress just feet from him and waited til he had retrieved the trunk and closed the back of the car up before she followed slowly after him up the stairs of the gigantic stone house.
As soon as he reached the top of the stairs he turned to close the door and stopped, staring directly at her as she followed just inches behind. Their eyes locked and his widened after a moment as he realized what he must be seeing was a ghost. Before he could retain a good image in his head Anya sped away toward the top of the house, making the man gasp and race down the stairs once more to follow her with his eyes, but in the next instant she was gone and not to be seen anymore. As the man frantically searched for the woman ghost that had followed him, Anya sat on the roof shaking slightly, her heart beating frantically at the prospect of having been found out already by one of the Inspector's men. She doubted he would relate this story to the Inspector, knowing his nature, but she could not help but believe that this chance meeting would be cause for trouble later on.
She listened attentively to hear the man return to the inside of the house, closing the front doors after him as he hurried to the Inspector. She sighed, feeling her heart finally slow its rampant beating, and allowed herself to fall slowly through the roof of the house into the dusty attic and through the floor of that small, cramped room into a thankfully empty bedroom beneath that. She hurried to the door and put her ear up to it, listening to hear the tell-tale shouting of her human well beneath her, at least two more floors. She stepped through the door, looking both ways before heading toward where she thought the stairs were. She fluttered quickly down the stairs, seeing a few servants running to and fro while a shrieking housekeeper followed them shaking her fists, shouting for them to get their heads out of the clouds and get refreshments ready for the policemen and the masters and mistresses that were still in the house. From what Anya could gather, the mistress, with her three children and one visiting niece, were downstairs in the sitting room waiting for their turns for questioning by the Chief Inspector.
A sudden thought came to Anya's head, exciting her. Perhaps she could use her own abilities to determine who was telling the truth and, in effect, who was lying in order to aid the Inspector with his investigation. She would have to be cunning and speak to the Inspector when he was alone and try to convince him to let her show him the extent of her abilities. She knew for sure that if he saw what she could do, he would have no qualms about allowing her to help him and perhaps it would be the start of her new life as his angel.
She hurried after the servants, allowing them to lead her straight to the second set of stairs that would take her down to the main floor. Officers were walking back and forth from the room that she assumed held the dead man while the servants rushed into the sitting room with trays full of tea and cakes to satisfy the family waiting within. She hurried past the sitting room to where she heard a sudden distinctive shout coming from, and peered through the door that stood slightly ajar in front of her, finding the Inspector with ease speaking with one of the family members, his trusty angel-seer beside him writing notes as the Inspector interrogated the young man. As the brunette detective looked up Anya quickly pulled her head back from the crack in the door, thinking about what she must do now. She would have to wait til the Inspector sent the man back to get another of his family members for interrogation, but also for the other policeman to leave the room as well. This was certainly a dilemma.
Footsteps sounded behind her suddenly and she nearly jumped out of her skin as an officer stepped through her and knocked on the door, waiting for the Inspector's attention before he eased it open. "Sir, it seems that something in the room has been touched. The evidence suggests that the man was typing something but we cannot find any paper with typing on it anywhere," the man reported. Inspector Slack growled and glared at the trembling young man seated before him.
"Was there someone else in the room beside your mother and sisters? Did any one of you touch a paper that was in the typewriter?" The young man shook his head quickly, clearly frightened of the Inspector.
"N-No, sir, nothing was touched except for Father. Mother ran to him screeching and hugged his body and nearly dragged him out of his chair had we not stopped her in time! I didn't take any paper from the typewriter and I don't think either of my sisters did either. My cousin Fannie wouldn't want anything to do with a paper he was typing up either, I think. I just don't know, Inspector." Slack nodded and then shook his head in exasperation, his eye brows drawn down together into a permanent frown line.
"Lake!" he suddenly bellowed, making the brunette officer jump and look at the Inspector. "Go see what you can make of this missing evidence and make sure there was supposed to be a piece of paper there. Question every officer that has been in the room and every servant as well. And you, go get your cousin and tell her I must ask her some questions."
A break! Luck at last! Anya couldn't believe her good fortune! She nearly lost her head when she realized that Lake, the man that could see her, was now heading straight for her to come out the door! Hurriedly she jumped into the air, hovering above the entrance as the two officers and the young man raced out to do their bidding. Now was her chance! As soon as the young man shut the door behind him, she flew straight through the polished wood into the room beyond, halting in front of the door so she could lock it. The sharp click of the lock sounded loud in the small office room and made Slack spin around from where he was leaning on the back of the interrogation chair.
"Who's there?" he asked, puzzled, looking straight at her and seeing nothing but the door. She materialized in front of him then, startling a jump from him. He began to reach for a gun in his pant pocket when he halted as he recognized her. "You're-?" he stopped, looking at her strangely. She smiled disarmingly, thinking then of what her attire must look like to him.
"Forgive me, Inspector, but after my cold reception yesterday I decided I must try another way to prove to you that I am what I say I am. I am your Guardian Angel Anya, sent from Heaven to be your protector, your bodyguard, if you will, until the end of your days. Ah yes, and please forgive my attire, I must look a shambles after my flight. I followed you in your car and stayed just above you the whole time." She reached up to take down her hair, allowing her waves of soft gold to tumble down to the middle of her back. "I hope that now you at least have begun to believe what I tell you. However, I am offering to give you still further proof should you need it . Keep me in the room with you while you interrogate the family and I shall be able to tell you if they are speaking the truth or not."
Throughout her whole speech the Inspector had been strangely quiet, but as soon as she finished speaking he seemed to fly off the handle into a rage. "You dare come in here and tell me how to do my job and who I should have in here with me while I am interrogating people to find out who committed this murder? I do not approve of your actions, barging into my crime scene and telling me how I should do things-!"
"Inspector!" The sharpness in her voice cut him short, and he stared at her in mute rage, surprised at being interrupted so despite himself. She could see his hands shaking, he was so angry. She took a deep breath, surprising herself with her own outburst, but she was desperate for his acceptance at this point and had no time for his raging. "Please, Inspector, I am not here to tell you how to do anything. I simply wish to prove to you that I am who and what I say I am. I am asking you to give me a chance and to open your mind to the possibility that there are things out there that you don't believe in that are around nevertheless. I am not going away. It is my mission to be your guardian, Inspector, so it is better for you to accept this fact now rather than allowing me to continue in my pestering. So, Inspector, what do you say?" She placed her hands on her hips, keeping his dark eyes caught in hers, not allowing him to look away.
"Chief Inspector!" A knocking came at the door and someone attempted to turn the handle only to find the door locked. "Inspector, we heard shouting! Are you all right? Why is the door locked? Sir? Sir!"
"Quiet out there, I'm fine!" Slack barked, silencing the man outside. His eyes found Anya's again, pinning her to the door. "Do as you like, miss. You may stay while I interrogate, but I don't want a single word from you, do you understand?" he snapped. She smiled graciously and bowed.
"Of course, Inspector. I am happy to oblige you." She turned the lock in the door and stepped back as the man outside showed himself, revealing the brunette called Lake. He found Anya standing by the door and turned a questioning look from her to the Inspector.
"Who is this woman, sir?" Lake looked again back at the woman before him and something about her appearance rang a bell in his head, but he could not think where he had seen her before. Slack opened his mouth to respond when Anya interrupted quickly upon seeing the wheels beginning to turn in Lake's head, smiling disarmingly at the sargeant.
"My name is Anya, sir. I am a psychiatrist from London, here for a study that involves the science of psychiatry with the art of interrogation," she lied smoothly, extending her hand to the astounded man. Lake took her hand slowly, looking back at the Inspector like a puppy with its tail between its legs, wondering why he would let such a woman into his crime scene and, better yet, why he would let her interrupt him like that without a sharp retort. But the Inspector stood gravely still, glaring at this stunning blonde with the soft, deep green eyes that reminded one of a forest on a bright spring day. What could she hope to gain by performing these little tricks for him? Was this some strange ways of hers to let him know that she fancied him? But he didn't know this woman! And she obviously did not know him if she thought he would believe in such poppycock as angels coming to the Earth to be guardians for human beings. Who ever heard of such a thing?
Slack noticed that Lake still looked unsure, and so nodded absently in his direction. "Everything's fine, Lake, she is cleared to be here throughout my interrogations. And speaking of that, where is that woman I sent that man to find? That Fannie, what's-her-name?"
"Gates, sir." A young brunette woman stepped into the room behind Lake, astonishing him into moving to the side quickly for her to enter the small office. "Forgive me for being late, my aunt is very much weakened and disheartened by this morning's events that I was loath to leave her side, sir, but she urged me to come anyway."
"Very well, ma'am. Take a seat, please. And you, miss, you take this chair. Lake, find another chair for yourself and be quick about it." Lake nodded quickly and hurried to find another chair from the sitting room, rushing back just as Anya was sitting in the chair he had recently vacated.
"Forgive me for claiming your seat, sir," she apologized as he sat down with his notepad. He smiled and shook his head.
"No matter, ma'am, it's all right. I'm ready whenever you are, sir."
"Right." Slack glanced once at Anya and, upon seeing her slight nod of approval and her irritatingly-gleeful smile, he began his questions to the woman, repeating everything he had asked her cousin before and adding others about this new-found missing evidence of the paper that should have been in her uncle's typewriter. Anya was soon focused entirely on the woman, hanging on her every word, allowing her senses to give her any subtle hint it could as to whether or not the woman was lying. She watched for physical signs such as facial expressions, using the knowledge that her mother had taught her to pick up on any hints of lies. As the questioning came to a close, Anya was forced to come to the conclusion that the young cousin Fannie was not lying about her answers. When Slack looked at her with both eye brows raised, she slowly shook her head, whereupon he sighed heavily and sent the woman back into the sitting room for one of the sisters.
One by one the rest of the family members entered the room, and one after another Anya kept shaking her head slowly toward Slack to let him know that, unfortunately, no one was lying so far during the questioning. It was only during the interrogation of the last family member, the mother, that made Anya suddenly suspicious. During Slack's questions pertaining to where the woman was, the mother kept insisting that she was nowhere near her husband in the library but that, instead, she was out in the garden pulling a few weeds before she went inside to change out of her muddy clothes. The woman suddenly started wailing something fierce and Lake was forced to call a servant to get her some water, and he and the servant helped the woman from the room to calm her before anymore questioning could be done. Slack sighed heavily and slapped at the back of the chair the woman had just vacated.
"Well?" he bellowed, making Anya jump in her chair as he suddenly advanced upon her, slamming both hands down on the arms of her chair as he leaned over, bringing his eyes down to the level of her own. "We've been through everyone in the family now. Have any of them been lying to me, or are you going to tell me that you cannot tell and beg me to give you another chance?" he snapped, his eyes wild. Anya was quite taken aback by his sudden advancement but quickly composed herself once more and managed to give him a small smile, catching him off guard.
"I have wonderful news for you, Inspector. The mother was lying about her whereabouts. She was not in the garden and she was certainly not far from her husband's library," she said calmly. He harrumphed and slowly straightened, a sudden smile curling his lips.
"Is that right? Well, if you are right, I will be forced to take what you told me earlier into consideration. I shall know just how to entice her to answer me truthfully. Stay in the room and stop me at any time that you catch her lying." She nodded, too ecstatic to attempt to answer him verbally. "Lake! Is she ready yet?" he shouted out the open door, and quickly got everyone back into the room to continue with the interrogation.
He questioned the woman up and down, left and right, trying to catch her in a lie using careful words to confuse her. She was a cunning and dangerous woman, Anya knew now for sure. A few times she was caught in a lie and when Slack looked to her for conformation, Anya would give one curt nod and elicit a half-smile from him in return for her services. These rewards she greatly enjoyed. Her progress today would be great by many standards and she already could not wait to get back to Miss Marple's house and tell her everything that had happened.
Slack whittled the woman down to nothing but bare nerves and in no time at all had a full confession from her, at the great distress of her children and niece, and was hauled off to jail while the body of her poor husband was wrapped up and sent to the funeral home for the proper arrangements. Anya stayed behind with the family members, calming the daughters and niece as best she could in their state of great distress. They had lost both parents in one dreadful day and she was attempting to console the poor souls. She sat with them, cried with them, held them and told them that their father would forever be watching them from Heaven and that he was proud of them and did not want them to waste their tears on him.
"He would wish you all to live fulfilling lives taking into account everything that he has ever taught you," she said, obtaining instant friends in the whole family. After assuring that she would stop by with Miss Marple that Saturday to take tea with them, she hastened from the sitting room and the beautiful house to begin her journey back to Miss Marple's small cottage.
She hurried out the front doors, thanking the servant who held the door for her, and wrapped her arms around her chest as a sudden gust of wind threatened to tear the dress off her very body.
"Miss Anya!"
She started, pulling strands of hair from her face as she turned to see none other than Inspector Slack trotting up to her and removing his jacket! He halted by her and slung his black jacket around her. "You didn't bring a coat of your own, miss. Didn't you know it would get cooler as the sun set?"
"Really, Inspector, you must not worry. I am fine, but I thank you anyway. And no, I did not realize this. That is, I have not been in these parts for very long," she said, lifting her eyes to his. He harrumphed and ushered her to the car waiting for him.
"Still on that angel thing again? I suppose I am inclined to thank you for earlier. You helped in a very tough investigation, and with just the talent of knowing who was lying and who wasn't. I must admit I am in your debt, Miss Anya," he grumbled, opening the car door for her. "The least I can do is give you a lift back to where you are staying." She decided not to comment on his lack of acknowledgment, but instead thanked him most profusely for the lift from the house and stepped into the car. He hurried to the other side and jumped in beside her, Lake having taken the passenger seat in the front. He smiled at her as the Inspector got in and she smiled back with gaiety. She liked Lake very much and was very pleased that he did not recognize her as the 'ghost' he had seen earlier that day.
"Now, Miss Anya, where are we taking you?" Slack asked as he situated himself beside her, making sure not to bump her at all in the process. She smiled, remembering the old woman's words about Inspector Slack when they had first met.
"I am staying with a friend for now, Inspector, and from what she tells me, the both of you are very much acquainted," she began slyly. He glanced at her, cocking an inquiring eye brow.
"Oh?" Anya found herself giggling.
"Yes, sir. Her name is Miss Marple." She saw the color slowly filter from his neck to his face as he struggled with his feelings about this newfound information and Anya found herself nearly bursting with laughter. He looked up and seemed even angrier at Anya attempting to control her laughter toward him. "Forgive me, sir, but I don't know the whole of the relationship between you two and so I cannot adequately judge it for myself. I've only heard some of what she has told me about the encounters she has had with you in the past during a few cases of yours."
"Ah, yes, I'm sure she gloats all day about how she is cleverer than I am," he hissed, propping his chin on his hand as he stared out the window of the car. Anya suddenly felt sorry for this man and her laughter died within her in the same instant. He had a bit more pride than he needed, yes, but she was sure that he had worked very hard to get to where he was now and was clearly hurt that an old woman like Miss Marple could step in and be more clever than he ever could in his own field.
"Inspector," she started gently, soothingly, turning his attention back toward her. "Miss Marple is a wonderful woman who just happens to be cleverer than your average Englishwoman. She has no undeserved pride and does not gloat about her accomplishments to me. She merely related to me why there was a rift between the two of you in the case I ever witnessed you together and perhaps noticed you behaving in a cold manner toward her," she assured. He relaxed visibly and seemed for a minute like he wanted to say something but then refrained, nodding to her once before turning back to the window that suddenly seemed to be so important to him once more.
All too soon they were in front of Miss Marple's cottage and Anya dutifully kept her seat as the Inspector got out and hurried to her side to open the door for her. Really, she could open it herself, she knew, but kept her thoughts to her self as she let Slack perform the necessaries she was sure was a part of the English customs she would soon have to become used to. It was no good arguing at this point anyway.
The door to the house suddenly opened and Miss Marple herself emerged with an extra coat draped over her arm, hurrying out into the front yard as she saw Anya handing Inspector Slack's coat back to him. "My dear child, I completely forgot to remind you about the cold nights we would be having now. Here, take this. There now, is that better? Very good. Chief Inspector, I really must thank you for driving her back here for me, it is really too kind of you." Slack bowed his head stiffly to the old woman, accepting her thanks with a cool demeanor. She turned then and made her way back to the house, not waiting for Anya.
Anya turned to the Inspector as he slung his jacket back over himself, pulling it snugly around his bony shoulders. He looked back at her as she stepped toward him and viewed her outstretched hand with what looked almost like fear as she attempted to keep him in good spirits. "Thank you very much for today, Inspector. I quite enjoyed myself despite the fact that a man was murdered. I do hope we can do this again sometime?" she asked. He slowly accepted her hand, shaking it twice before letting go promptly as if it were on fire. He cleared his throat and regarded her solemnly and with much curiosity. She really was not letting go of this fantasy, was she?
"Perhaps we can do this another time, yes. I'm sure there will be cases where your, er, expertise will come in handy," he said, slowly moving off to his side of the car.
"Do be careful if you go on another case without me," she said, and it shocked him to see genuine concern in her eyes, something he had not witnessed from anyone in all his years as a policeman. This woman was dangerous! he reasoned. She always caught him off guard when he least expected it! He shifted his feet, embarrassed, and opened the car door swiftly.
"I will be careful. Good night, Miss Anya," he mumbled, just loud enough for her ears before getting in and shutting the door, snapping at the driver to drive on quickly. She caught his eye for an instant before they sped away again, and she couldn't help but smile at all the progress that had been made in that one short day.
A sudden gust of wind made her turn and hurry to the door, swiftly entering and giving the coat to Bessie who suddenly appeared as she moved to take her shoes off and went from there into the small sitting room where Miss Marple was waiting with two steaming cups of cocoa, her eyes bright with impatience. Anya sat down across from her and stirred her cocoa before putting some milke in it, slowing her actions to a painful march as she saw the old woman begin to fret across from her. When she sat back with her finished drink with a smile, the woman tisked her, demanding right then to know exactly what she had been doing all day and why she was back so late! Anya laughed at her enthusiasm and summoned Bessie for some food first, realizing just then she had had little to eat whilst she had been at Fox Hall. As soon as the food arrived, she began her story, starting with the point of her flight from the small alleyway beside the store Miss Marple had been in.
It took Anya the better part of two hours to finish her story, in which she was interrupted at times by the 'ohs!' and 'wonderfuls!' of Miss Marple. Once she had finished, her cocoa was cold and Miss Marple ordered more made up for her. "My dear, you do look tired. You have done so well today that you deserve a long rest after you drink this last cup. You'll feel much better after you do so, trust me. Now, what will you do tomorrow? Do you think he will summon you to accompany him on another case?" Anya shook her head.
"I don't know. He may believe me the meddlesome type as he believes you, Miss Marple. He did approve of what I did today and was glad of my help, but it still seems as if he is hesitating with something. He still does not believe everything about me despite the evidence I have shown him. I must do more yet I know not what it is that is required." She sighed heavily, accepting the new cup of cocoa from the maid.
"I believe he will invite you back, if nothing else than to look at you. I saw the way he watched you before he drove off. I know the look a man gets when his heart has begun to be swayed by a woman." It was Anya's turn to scoff.
"Come now, Miss Marple. We've only just met! Surely such things here are not so quick as that, are they?" Marple laughed outloud.
"Of course they are, my dear! Some marriages are even still based on nothing but promises between mothers of two different families! Surely you know something of the marriage state from your own mother?" Anya shook her head.
"Not of the marriage state on Earth, I'm afraid. I learned much about England and Earth before I came but I'm afraid I should have taken the time to study more of it. I was eager to begin my role as a Guardian that I simply did not take the time to study all I could of the world I would soon be inhabiting." Miss Marple tisked her good-naturedly, placing her empty cup beside her.
"You must be tired, dear. If you're finished with your drink you may go on up to bed now." Anya smiled and took one last sip of her cocoa, enjoying the warmth it filtered through her.
"Thank you, Miss Marple. I think I shall go directly." She stood, placing her own cup on the table. "Goodnight, ma'am," she said with a small curtsy. The old woman smiled at her.
"Yes, dear, goodnight. Anya, dear?" The angel halted in a half turn and turned back, cocking a curious eye brow.
"Yes?"
"I have just been thinking, and having you address me so formally is no longer needed. So from now on I would like you to call me Aunt Jane. Everyone who is close to me does, and it would make me feel less like an old woman if you began addressing me the same." Anya was astonished.
"Oh, but I couldn't, Miss-er-Aunt Jane. Do you really think we are that close?" she enquired innocently. The old woman inclined her head with a smile.
"Why of course, dear. You are living in my home, and I fully understand and believe the situation you have presented me, so I believe we are two of the closest people in the entire world at the moment," she said with certainty, struggling to her feet. Anya ushered to help her quickly and the two of them laughed and headed off to bed. As Anya lay in her bed just a few minutes later, she could not believe that such good fortune had fallen upon her. How had such a thing happened without divine intervention? She looked toward her ceiling and felt a small smile tug at her lips. Perhaps she had gotten a little help after all.