Chapter Twenty-Four

Of Endings and Beginnings

Prophecy 1227:

And behold: I did see an Eye, who is't's gaze pierc'd earth, ocean, sky, and Heaven. And in t's gaze bask and rejoice, f'r t wast the Eye of Love and Friendship.

Fell stared with his mouth open and was unable to utter a word.

This had to be a ghost or an apparition.

This couldn't be Caudery. It couldn't be.

Fell's head began to shake, his tongue started to babble in unbelief. The thing which looked like Caudery grinned at Fell, lips pulled back to reveal sharp teeth.1 He lowered the bag of frozen peas he was holding.

"Did I scare you?" asked Caudery's voice.

Fell squeaked out a few unintelligent sounds. The apparition continued to grin at him.

"Er, um… you did rather," Fell finally managed.

"Mind if I join you, then?"

Fell shook his head. "But, you can't," he said. "You're not real."

The smile lost some of its brilliance.

"I am just as real as you are, Fell."

The angel stepped back, the heel of his shoe hitting the iron fence that surrounded the water.

"You can't be. Caudery was redeemed."

"I know," the voice said. "I was. I was there. It was me."

Fell was trembling, his mouth suddenly quite dry. He had used his imagination to hold a burning car together, but he had no idea he could do this; conjure up an image so real, so concrete that he would almost swear it was real. From the black hair to the snakeskin boots, to the very voice.

Fell's hands gripped the bars of the fence behind him. Why must he be tormented in this way? It was as close to anything like punishment as Fell had ever felt.

The apparition that looked like Caudery reached up and took off its sunglasses. Now Fell was truly convinced he was growing mad.

"He wouldn't still have those eyes," he murmured.

"How do you know?" the other asked with a tone of hurt. "Do you know exactly what I looked like before the Fall?"

"No," Fell had to admit. "But- how can he, how can you be new if you look so much like the old Caudery?" Fell challenged.

The other shook his head, throwing his arms wide. "It's just the outside. Outer appearances don't matter. We're spirits. Bodies are just the same as a piece of clothing, Fell. You of all angels should know that. Look at my aura."

Fell looked at the face. "But-"

"Ghosts don't have auras."

Fell couldn't contest that. He bit his tongue, both hopeful and fearing that when he shut his eyes, this thing would be gone. But did he really want it to go? Being haunted might be better than this solitary existence.

The angel shut his eyes tightly and drew on his angelic power. He didn't need his wings or halo out to view an aura. All he needed was to concentrate the celestial energy into his physical eyes. 2

He opened them. For those passing by, they would have seen shimmering light where the eyes of the man should have been, glowing like white diamonds. From Fell's point of view, he looked at the figure before him.

It was not a ghost.

There was an aura. It was alive and bright and gleaming, rippling outwards from the body in glorious celestial hues that resembled the earthly colours of orange, yellow and gold. From his perspective, Fell also saw the eight wings and the true form, topped with the halo and encircled by living heavenly eyes, glowing brilliantly against the backdrop of the deepening of nightfall.

Fell restored his vision to normal. The foliage of the park and the rippling water of the duck pond came into focus along with the face. The orange eyes were looking right at him and the smile was still there.

"Well, was that enough?" the voice asked.

Fell ducked his head.

"I… must apologize, your excellence," he murmured softly, acutely aware that he was in the presence of a far superior angel. 3

"None of that, Fell, no titles. We are equals."

Fell looked up in confusion. "But you're a seraphim," he said.

"No titles," the other said firmly, shaking his head.

"Sir-"

"Nope. No sirs, either. Use my name."

Fell sputtered. "Raphaelle-"

"Fell, stop. Call me Caudery. It's what you've always called me. Please."

Fell swallowed, his mouth feeling very dry and scratchy, as if he had just eaten toast without butter.

"Caudery," he squeaked.

The face in front of him relaxed into an easy smile. "Thank you, Fell."

"But, but how is this even possible?" Fell had to know. "You died!"

Caudery nodded, untying the bag of peas. "I did."

He held out a handful of peas. Fell automatically cupped his hands and Caudery poured the little green spheres into them.

The ducks instinctively sensed food and flew in from the water, quacking excitedly.

"Everything I was died," Caudery said, tossing peas at the ducks. "Everything. All those ten thousand years; gone."

Fell gave peas to the drake who was continuing to pester him by pulling first on his trousers, then the edge of his coat. Fell looked at Caudery.

"How can you remember me?" he asked. "If everything in you and that was you died, wouldn't it also follow that the same would happen to your memories?"

Caudery met Fell's gaze. "It all died. All the pain and torment faded, leaving behind only faint impressions. I do remember, but the memories are faded, like dreams. The bad ones have been reduced to something of the past, the events I can recall, but in a way, it's as if they happened to someone else. Because I was someone else then, with a different mind and different body. But the good memories are stronger than the others. I remember Heaven, God, creation; all those things." 4

"So you remember me?" Fell asked stupefied, dropping peas to the eager water foul.

Caudery smiled. "You, the Bentley, the book. All of it."

"Even… um… even the exorcising and the sword?"

"Even that, Fell. But don't worry about it. Like everything else, I don't see it in the same light. It's all changed, like I've changed."

Caudery held out the bag to Fell. The angel took it and as he did, their hands touched. Cold skin on warm. Fell's eyes flickered to Caudery's face. There was no reaction. No gesture of pain, no muscle spasm or flinching motion.

Fell's touch didn't hurt Caudery anymore.

Caudery grinned at Fell's expression and replaced his sunglasses, pushing them on with his forefinger.

"What would you say to the Ritz?" he said.

"The Ritz?" Fell rolled up the mostly empty bag and stuffed it into his coat pocket absentmindedly, squishing the remaining peas.

"I don't joke about the Ritz," the once-demon smiled, his sharp white teeth gleaming against the tan of his skin.

Fell was still trying to reconcile that this Caudery was not a product of his imagination.

"Wouldn't it be more proper for you to associate with the archangels?" he asked, shakily. "I'm only a principality."

Caudery hissed like a snake, a sound Fell would have never guessed he'd be happy to hear.

"Oh, come on, angel. Can you see me hanging out with the likes of Gabriel and Michael? They can't s-s-stand the sight of me, not even now. Especially not now."

The corners of Fell's mouth were beginning to edge upwards. That sounded like the Caudery he knew.

"You would rather be with this pathetic excuse of an angel?"

Caudery's face dropped to a frown. "Don't say that, Fell. You're anything but pathetic."

Heat rushed to Fell's cheeks and he looked off across the park. "Um, your Bentley is parked next to my shop, if you want to drive it."

"You kept it for me?"

"It was your request. And… you are my best friend," Fell said, pulling out a set of car keys.

Caudery took them with a soft expression. "The Ritz?" he asked again.

"I don't see why not," Fell said, his insides slowly untangling.

Caudery checked his watch. "Dining at the Ritz," he said. "It's late. We'll be there at nine precisely."

A funny notion dropped into Fell's head. "I'll pay the bill, you taste the wine," he replied.

Caudery's face went red and it was his turn to be uncomfortable. "You've been listening to Queen too much," he said, flustered.

"Then you shouldn't let all your music turn into Queen." Fell didn't fully smile, but he was no longer frowning.

"That's-s-s not my doing! It's all the Bentley!" Caudery said, swatting at the drake who was insisting on following them through the park.

"Are you sure it was all the car's doing?" Fell asked as they reached the edge of the park. "The Bentley isn't a sentient being after all."

"Ngk." Caudery was glaring down at the duck, who decided to leave the angels alone and waddled off towards the water. 5

"Don't know," Caudery replied, twirling the car keys. "It's been a normal thing for so long, I never really felt the need to question it."

The Bentley was at the kurb, waiting like a faithful dog and glowing in the twilight. At Caudery's approach, Fell fancied it glowed even more. Caudery gave a sigh as his fingers went over the paintwork.

"You did a good job, Fell," he said, getting inside.

Caudery looked so natural sitting in the driver's seat, feet on the petals, hands on the wheel. It was as if he and the car had been made for each other.

Caudery gently turned the key and engaged the engine. He looked over at Fell with a grin, clearly itching to drive.

"Shall we?" he asked.

Fell had his hands curled under the sides of the seat. He nodded, and braced himself.

Caudery gave a laugh and hit the ignition. Fell's stomach leaped with the car, but he didn't mind. Caudery was in his element, grinning from ear to ear with glee. He switched on the radio. A softer song began to play. 6

I can dim the lights and sing you songs full of sad things
We can do the tango, just for two
I can serenade and gently play on your heart strings…

"Oh, no, no, no, not that!" Caudery moaned. "Don't mock me, you old car!"

Almost as if in reply, the song got louder.

"Ooh love, Ooh lover boy
What're you doing tonight? Hey boy"
Write my letter, feel much better
I'll use my fancy patter on the telephone…

The song continued without pausing. Fell wasn't a fan of the lyrics, but the choice did feel suitable, nonetheless. If the Bentley really was animate, as Fell was beginning to surmise, it appeared that it had a sense of humour.

When I'm not with you
Think of you always…

A small hint of a smile was working on his lips, while Caudery was looking completely miserable.

Dining at the Ritz we'll meet at nine (1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8, 9 o'clock) precisely
I will pay the bill, you taste the wine
Driving back in style, in my saloon will do quite nicely
Take me back to yours, that will be fine…

Caudery hit the dial, silencing the radio. His face had turned a crimson hue.

"S-s-sorry," he said to Fell. "Bloody car."

"Caudery!" Fell had take his eyes off the road to look at him.

"What?" the seraphim asked.

"You swore."

"Yeah, so?"

"Angels shouldn't, that is, they…" Fell suddenly remembered the words he himself had said. He coloured, sputtered and hastily changed the subject. "There's a free spot to park the Bentley."

Caudery slowed and pulled up. He switched the engine off. With a flare, he flung an arm over the steering wheel and turned to Fell.

"Might I tempt you to a spot of lunch?"

Fell released his death grip on the seat. "You can't do that anymore," he said pointedly. "You're an angel now."

Caudery grinned. "I know. But I had to say it for old times sake."

"In that case…" Fell mused, "temptation accomplished."

Caudery locked the Bentley. A small crowd of people were about, enjoying the crisp evening air.

"I believe a table for two has just been vacated," Fell predicted as they walked.

"Ah," Caudery said. "Excellent."

A sudden breeze startled some dry leaves to skitter along the entrance to the Ritz. Caudery caught the door and held it open for Fell. The doorman nodded cheerfully in their direction before going back to his post.

"Wouldn't you say the time is more appropriate for dinner?" Fell asked Caudery.

"So it is," Caudery said. He turned to the hostess. "Table for two."

The evening was quiet, if not a bit windy. The town square had leaves dancing merrily in the autumn breeze and Mr. R. P. Tyler was braving the elements to walk his dog Shutzi. Mr. Tyler was also making a round of the neighbourhood to see if there were any violations for him to complain about to the town counsel. Mr. Tyler was a big believer in the power of a strongly written letter. 7

Shutzi and his owner walked by the Young's house. A low growl came from behind the hedge as Dog defended his territory. Shutzi whimpered and Dog stuck his head though the gate. Mr. Tyler yanked Shutzi back with his lead.

"Adam Young!" Mr. Tyler bellowed. "Come get your mangy mutt away from my Shutzi!"

Adam's head popped through the leaves on the apple tree in the back garden.

"Did you say something, Mr. Tyler?" he asked in a lazy voice.

Mr. Tyler fumed. "Just remove your dog, young man."

Adam dropped from the tree. He was barefoot, with the cuffs on his jeans rolled up.

"Dog, come here."

Dog ignored him and continued to growl and make nasty faces at Shutzi who hid behind Mr. Tyler's legs.

"Dog!" Adam said more firmly.

Dog pretended not to hear, but his ears twitched. 8

Adam marched over and yanked his disobedient canine away from the gate, who's furious snarls turned into a yip of surprise.

"Stop terrifying Mr. Tyler's nasty poodle, you old beast," Adam said with a grin.

Dog yipped and gave Adam a kiss on the chin.

Mr. Tyler was not amused. "Young man, what are you doing out? Isn't it past your bedtime?"

Adam shrugged. "Not really."

There was a rustling of leaves and three more heads appeared from the apple tree. It was the Them: Brian, Pepper and Wensleydale.

Wensleydale brushed loose leaves from his jumper.

"Actually," he said, "It's not like there's a rule against being out. You can't go to jail just for 'being out.'"

"And it's not like we're even doing anything," Brian put in. "We're just out."

Pepper flipped upside down with her knees around the tree limb, so she was hanging with her arms crossed over her chest and her hair just scraping the grass.

"Plus, it's a Friday," she declared with a saucy smile.

"Don't you use that tone with me, young lady," Mr. Tyler snapped, his face red. "Don't think I won't talk to your mother. As for you, Adam Young-"

Adam raised his eyebrows and looked as innocent as he could while mentally planning the next siege on the man's flowerbeds.

"-Goodnight." Mr. Tyler scooped up his squirming poodle and went down the street with a huff.

Adam grinned. "'Night, Mr. Tyler!" he called over the hedge. "See you in church!"

Dog joined in with a loud bark. Adam put him down. Dog zipped over to the apple tree and started pretending Pepper's hair was some frightening enemy.

"Tyler encounter for the day, done," Adam said.

"I don't get why he has to pick on us," Brian said, searching for an apple among the leaves. "Why doesn't he get a hobby?"

"Actually, I think we are his hobby," said Wensleydale, cleaning his glasses.

"Besides his flowers," Pepper agreed from upside down.

Dog was jumping around and snarling at her hair and having a great time.

"He needs another hobby, something to keep him out of trouble," Adam announced. He reached up and got an apple. He climbed and hoisted himself onto the lowest tree limb. He gave the apple to Brian, who was having no luck finding his own.

"Mum took most of them to make sauce," Adam said.

"Thanks!" Brian took a big bite, apple juice dripping off his chin. "Maybe we need a hobby, too," he said.

"What kind of hobby?" Pepper pulled herself upright and shook bits of vegetation out of her hair.

"I don't know." Brian shrugged. "Something."

Adam leaned back against the tree trunk. "I'd call this our hobby," he said.

"Hanging out in an apple tree?" Pepper asked.

"Just hanging out," Adam explained, getting another apple.

"Actually, are we getting too old for it?" Wensleydale put in. "For just hanging out?"

"Most other kids are doing extra curricular activities on the weekends," said Brian, spraying apple bits everywhere.

"Yeah, but they don't have any free time," Adam said. "Look at Pepper's sister. She barely can eat, go to school, do schoolwork and sleep, she's so busy. Besides. She was born knowing she'd go into engineering."

The Them were silent for a while as they snacked on apples. The only noise was coming from the crunching and chewing of apples, and dog's whimpering from below, who wanted to come up in the tree, too. 9

"What happened back in August?" Brian voiced, having finished his apple.

"You mean the Antichrist?" Adam asked.

"Yeah," Pepper said.

"What about it?" Adam worked on his apple a bit more.

"Was it really the end of the world? You didn't tell us much about it."

"Not much to tell," Adam replied, biting his apple core in half.

"Actually, there could be a great deal to tell," Wensleydale said. "You know, about angels, and demons and suchlike. You were possessed by one, remember."

"True," Adam said.

"What was it like?" Brian asked.

Adam frowned. "It's one of those things that are tricky to put into words. Sort of like when a teacher asks you to do a dissertation on a classic novel. You read the book and you understand the story and the themes, but when it comes to actually trying to explain those things, you lose your grip. Like your brain's been encased in jelly."

Pepper cocked her head to the side, one eyebrow questioning. "An out of body experience?"

Adam nodded. "Something like that. I can remember everything that happened, but it wasn't me who was experiencing it. 'Cause I wasn't in charge of my body."

Brian gave a shudder. "Creepy, really."

Adam popped half the apple core in his mouth.

"You shouldn't eat that," Pepper scolded. "The seeds are toxic!"

Adam pretended not to hear her and eat the other half. Pepper rolled her eyes.

"So what about Fell and Caudery?" Brian asked. "The angel and demon? Think they got into trouble for stopping the end of the world?"

Adam thought about this. "Maybe. God did seem to forgive them. Or at least, the angel. Don't know about Mr. Caudery. Satan didn't look too pleased with him."

The Them sat quietly for a moment, pondering this.

"Actually, it's too bad," Wensleydale said. "He was rather interesting. Caudery, I mean. Well, a bit harsh, but not like a demon."

"No," Pepper agreed.

"Can a demon be pardoned?" Brian put forward.

"Dunno," Adam said, then smiled. "Maybe someday we'll find out."

Soft music was being played on a grand piano. People talked pleasantly to each other in hushed tones, and the general atmosphere of the Ritz was idyllic.

Fell and Caudery had a nice table in the middle of the dining room. Caudery was slouched in his chair, arm over the back, perfectly comfortable. Next to him, Fell was sitting rigidly upright like a board in his seat, looking every bit as uncomfortable as he felt. He had never felt so uncomfortable in the Ritz before. Caudery seemed to be perfectly at ease.

A suit-clad waiter in gloves opened a bottle of champagne.

"You're rather quiet," Caudery said to Fell as the waiter filled their glasses.

"I guess I'm still processing," Fell said. "I'm finding it difficult to believe all this is real."

"Ah," Caudery said. "Well, considering it took you the better part of two years to reconcile the fact I was a demon, it might take just as long for you to be comfortable with me as an angel."

Fell shook his head. "I will get used to it. I'll adjust. Might take a while, but I hope not two years."

"If you need two years, you can have them," Caudery said. "The world's not going to end just yet."

"About that," Fell interjected. "Are you really here to stay?"

"I am," Caudery reassured him. "The Almighty has assigned me a position on Earth. To work with you."

Fell looked over at his sunglasses-wearing companion. "With me?"

Caudery's glasses slipped down his nose to reveal his eyes as he rolled them. "Yes. With you. I didn't come back just to tease you and leave. Would I do that?"

Fell blushed and fidgeted in his seat. "Er- no. You wouldn't. But now?"

"I didn't change that much, Fell. The parts of the real me are still here, just in a new vessel."

Fell took a sip of his champagne.

"Do you think," Fell began slowly, "this is going to sound silly, but do you think the Almighty planned it this way all along?"

Caudery twirled a finger around the rim of his wine glass. "Could be. I wouldn't be surprised. Ineffable ways and all that. He used it all to His Glory, anyhow. I'd say some lives were changed for the better because of it, brought out of the dark into the light. 10 Newton Pulsifer's enriched his brain with spiritual matters and got a wife. Anathema Device (Pulsifer), is free from being a decedent. Madame Tracy retired, (though I do question her choice of a man), and Sergeant Shadwell no longer has his head in the dirt. Adam Young is a perfectly normal happy kid with a family of his own."

"And what about you?"

Caudery glanced up at Fell. "What about me?"

Fell put his hands in his lap and played with the napkin to keep from worrying. He had one question left to ask and it was a very serious one. He took a breath and asked it.

"Why did you Fall?"

Caudery stared at him before his gaze drifted to the table. Fell realized what he had just said.

"Sorry," Fell quickly apologized. "Of course you don't remember."

"I didn't."

"You… do now?"

"Yes."

Fell twisted his fingers deeply into the napkin. "It's none of my business," he said, wishing he had kept his mouth shut.

Caudery didn't reply. He was watching the lady seated behind the piano, her hands appearing and disappearing as the gentle melody drifted into the air.

"It wasn't because of questions," Caudery said suddenly. "I've always had questions, always asked them frankly, but they weren't the cause of my Fall."

Fell had twisted his napkin into a rope without noticing. His concentration was all on Caudery, who was so casually slumped in his chair, as if he were merely talking about the sports news. Fell took another sip of champagne to steady himself- a large sip.

"I Fell…" Caudery said slowly, "I Fell because of someone else. To prevent another from Falling. Satan took a third of the angels in Heaven with him when he Fell, his angels. All the angels under Satan went willingly with him, but one."

"… One?" Fell said.

"One. Satan had him by the heels. He didn't want to follow. But he was conflicted. He wanted to follow his God, as well as the archangel over him. He knew something was wrong, so he dithered and began to sink."

Caudery's finger circled slowly on the rim of his glass, a hesitancy to his words.

Fell stopped wringing his napkin. "The angel was undecided?" he offered.

"Yes. He wanted to do what was right, but…."

"Wait, he?" Fell asked. "But most angels didn't have their human forms before the Fall."

"True," Caudery acknowledged. "But some did."11

"What… order was this angel?"

Caudery's finger slipped off the glass rim with a squeak. Something about his manner made Fell even more uneasy than he already was.

"Was he…" Fell swallowed. "… a cherub?"

Caudery's head nodded. "A Principle Cherub."

A pang went through Fell's heart.

Hazy, half-familiar images appeared in his mind. Heaven, faces… So many faces, some blurred, some clear. He remembered faces which reflected anger and hatred, emotions which previously had never existed in the heavenly realms. A strange feeling of discord rippled through the peace. The handsome features of the evening star angel distorted into something hideous and frightening.

The memories took a violent turn. The warmth and light provided by the Almighty was replaced by cold and darkness; cold that froze the blood and a darkness that smothered life. The sensation of Falling was acutely real. Fell found himself gripping the edge of the table.

The Fall was stopped before the angel hit rock bottom. The spirit was lifted, the cold reversed as warmth again filled and the dark was chased away by the Light.

Fell now examined these memories more closely, memories he had pushed to the back of his mind and buried zealously.

He had almost almost Fallen from Heaven. He had been the principal cherub.

Fell looked across the table to Caudery. All the people and the bustle of the Ritz was simply background noise. It was only the two of them. Caudery had sacrificed so much more than Fell could have imagined.

"You Fell… to save another," Fell said softly. "To save… me."

Caudery shrugged.

"But to suffer all that for one being," Fell said.

"Christ suffered untold indignities for the sake of all humanity," Caudery pointed out. "He emptied Himself to become a vessel for the sins of the world, and I'm not comparing myself to Him on any account, but if I had to, I would do it again."

"What if I was meant to Fall?" Fell calmly speculated.

"Then we wouldn't be sitting here," Caudery answered.

Fell shook his head. "It doesn't seem right."

Caudery looked at him with concern written on his features. "I could leave, if you want me to," he offered, making a move to stand up from his chair.

Fell put out his hand in protest. "Oh no, please don't. I didn't mean it that way. Please."

Caudery retook his seat. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable around me," he said.

"I'm not uncomfortable with you," Fell said, "if anything, I am uncomfortable with myself. I appear to know absolutely nothing about my own thoughts and motives. I had considered myself to be a rather intelligent angel, but I find I am just as ignorant as the average human, less even. I might not even know anything at all."

Caudery gave a sympathetic smile his way. "It could be other things that are making you uncomfortable besides yourself. Perhaps a change of scenery is called for. Somewhere not London."

"A change of scenery?" Fell mused. "I have been in London for two hundred years now. Might be time for a change."

Caudery seconded the motion. "Might be good," he said. "Get out of a rut. After all, we don't know how long it will last until the real end. Could be days or years. Only God knows." 12

Fell thought for a moment, tugging at his bow tie. "What would you say to the country? I've always had a fancy for the South Downs."

Caudery's sunglasses slipped. "You… want me to be with you?"

"Naturally. It was your idea."

"You wouldn't be bothered by…?"

"Stop being so bloody courteous," Fell snapped. "It doesn't suit you."

The former demon had to smile. "Would you be alright with leaving London?"

"Entirely."

"But your bookshop?"

Fell heaved a sigh. "It is time for it to be laid to rest. I've had it long enough. Someone else can enjoy it now."

"That's a very brave choice, Fell," Caudery said.

"Personally, I think you're lying," Fell countered. "But thank you."

Caudery continued to smirk. "You're welcome, angel."

Fell fingered his wine glass. "Is it still appropriate for you to call me that, Caudery? We're both angels now."

Caudery brushed the question away. "At this point, who's keeping score?"

Fell lifted his glass. "No one."

Caudery held up his own glass. "Well, then. To the world."

"To the world," Fell replied with a smile.

Glasses clinked. The gentle music of the piano and the murmur of the voices around them again became heard in the background.

The glasses were refilled with champagne and while the two angels dined at the Ritz, something unusual occurred. Perhaps the redemption of a demon and the adverting of the Apocalypse had affected the fabric of reality more than it had seemed. Perhaps everything wasn't entirely back to normal.

For the first time, though no one was around to hear it, a nightingale sang in Berkeley Square.

It was the gentle memories that brought her back.

She was standing on the beach in Cornwall. It was low tide and the waves were slowly rolling in and out again, the breeze dancing through her golden hair. She was wearing her new swimsuit in red and white and had a summer dress pulled over. She was admiring the many blues of the water, shimmering as the sun came out from behind the hazy clouds.

She smiled. The month was June and it was her honeymoon. The threat of rain had held off. The day promised to be perfect. 13

"Nancy!"

She turned her back to the wind.

A young man was coming down from the cob. His white shirt and gray shorts were a contrast to the brightly coloured bathhouses behind him. He was tall, with long limbs and black hair. He carried blankets under his arm and a camera on a strap around his neck.

She smiled again and laughed. "Frank!" she called, waving a hand.

He also laughed. The blankets were unrolled on the sand. He held up the camera and pointed to the ocean. She slipped on a pair of catseye sunglasses and posed. He snapped photographs, winding the film between each shot. She let him take pictures of her near the water, sitting on the sand, on the cob.

They were the only ones on the beach, which struck her as odd. She didn't remember there being so few people during the height of summer.

The only sounds were of laughter, the soft waves and the cawing of gulls.

Things had a strange haziness to them, as if they weren't quite in focus. The colours of the bathhouses were blurred together, like in a fake oil painting.

There was something off about his face, his features weren't quite right.

"Frank?" she asked.

He didn't reply and kept taking photographs, all the while becoming more unfocused and dim, as though the light was fading.

She looked to the sky. The light was weakening, even though it was the morning. Everything was fading.

Before she could feel any panic, she remembered this wasn't real. It had been once, but was now only a dream.

As the memories faded, she kept her eyes on Frank until he too had turned into mist. She had been dreaming long enough. 14

It was time to wake up.

The soft hum of machinery reached her ears and bright light reached her eyelids.

She opened eyes. She did not feel at all shocked at finding herself in a hospital ward nor at seeing all the wires, tubes or monitors. She looked around and took it all in with her characteristic tranquility.

There was someone sitting at her bedside. She didn't have her glasses on and had to squint against the light. Her heart jumped, for at first she thought it was Frank. But Frank was dead. The black hair had fooled her, but the dark suit and the eyes told her who it was.

"Anthony," she said, her dry, wrinkled face easing into smiles.

The young man's face smiled back at her. "You gave me quite a scare for a while," said his deep voice.

"Oh my dear, I am sorry," Mrs. Alms said. "It must be my time. Are you here to take me home?"

"Yes, Mrs. Alms, but not to the celestial one. It isn't your time just yet."

"Really?" Mrs. Alms had felt for sure she was ready to leave. She was already eighty-four, which was a good old age for anyone.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"I am," Caudery replied. "I will let you know when it's time to leave this earth."

"In that case," Mrs. Alms sat herself up and reached for the white blankets around her feet. "I should get up."

Caudery stopped the removal of the blankets. "Let the doctors see you first."

Mrs. Alms settled back into the pillows, not wanting to argue. Caudery found her glasses and the world was instantly clearer.

"Why, Anthony," Mrs. Alms gasped. "You look diffident."

"Bad different?" the black-haired man asked with a grin.

"No, dear, not bad. It's difficult to place it…" she studied his face. The slicked black hair and the eyes were the same. His features were all the same, yet… "Forgive me, but you've lost the haunted look you used to have. A sort of fear. You almost seem redeemed."

"So I am, Mrs. Alms. I was haunted and no longer am."

She stared at him, at a momentary lose for words. His orange eyes were bright and animated. His warm hand was on her cold one. She squeezed it.

There was a step in the hall, a voice at the door.

"Might it be alright for me to come in now?"

Mrs. Alms looked up to see a portly young man standing at the end of the ward. His blond hair almost glowed under the florescent lights and his attire reminded her of something her grandfather had worn in his day. It was the man she had seen once before.

"Come in, Fell," Caudery said. "Don't be shy."

"It isn't a matter of being shy," the other said, accepting the invitation, and stepping into the room. "Hello, Mrs. Alms," he said. "I don't know if you remember me."

Mrs. Alms gave him a smile, melting his awkwardness. "Mr. Aloysius Fell. I do remember."

She extended a hand. Fell took it gently. She smiled, he blushed. She liked him already. One couldn't help it.

"Mrs. Alms," Caudery said, "how would you like to go to the seaside?"

"The seaside?"

"Once you're done here."

She thought for a moment. Memories of the past had again settled in their proper places, but the feelings had remained. The sense of the wind, sun and water. The joy of life she had felt then. A feeling that had always stayed with her.

She looked up at the two young men, at Fell's plumb face with blue eyes and Caudery's sharp, handsome features.

"You know, Anthony," she said, "the seaside sounds wonderful."

The outside of A. Z. Fell and company still bore the signs of being a victim of the fire. The walls were still blackened, the windows broken. A thin layer of frost covered the stacks of lumber still sitting by. The yellow police tape had been removed, but the place was avoided by most of the Soho populous. There was a strange feeling about the bookshop. In the old days, it would have been called "eerie," or depending on the generation, "strange vibes." The construction workers were being paid, so regardless of how they felt about the job, they came all the same. 15

The foreman arrived from his lunch break to find a paper stuck under his van's windscreen wiper. The paper had his name on it. He put his lunchbox on the bonnet.

On opening the paper, he discovered it was a letter containing a cheque. The letter requested he finish the restoration of the bookshop as discussed and when complete, to donate it to the city as a bookshop for children in need. The letter was signed A. Z. Fell, esquire.

When the foreman unfolded the cheque, he nearly dropped it in his surprise. The cheque was for ₤ 2,000,000.

He stared. He was still staring at the cheque when a large black vintage car screeched to a halt opposite his van. A tall man in black got out of the driver's seat and the owner of the bookshop the foreman was rebuilding stepped from the passenger side.

"Good afternoon, Becket," Mr. Fell said brightly.

The foreman tried to communicate and failed, his mouth making unintelligible sounds and the letter and cheque shaking in his hands.

"Be careful not to lose that cheque," Fell advised.

The man held it out shakily. "Are… you sure you didn't make a mistake, sir?"

"I hope not." Fell took the cheque. He held it to the light, brow furrowed. "No, looks to be in order. Nothing amiss."

He gave the cheque back to the foreman.

"You can take the rest of the day off, if you need to," Fell said.

The man stammered and darted for his van, the cheque clutched tightly. A cuppa tea and a rest seemed to be in order.

Caudery watched him go and chuckled. "Nearly gave that poor bloke a heart attack with your generosity, Fell," he said.

"Nonsense," the principality returned. "He'll be alright in a day or two."

"As long as he doesn't lose the cheque," Caudery added, looking at the slanted bookshop sign.

"He won't," Fell said with conviction. He pulled out his key and unlocked the doors.

Caudery made no remark about the irony of locking the front doors of a shop that was missing walls and windows.

Fell pushed open the doors and made a gesture for Caudery to go inside.

Caudery shook his head. "After you," he bowed.

"You're absurd," Fell said, but not without a laugh.

The first thing Caudery saw inside was his fern, standing bushy and tall by the coat-rack and an armchair. A small side table bearing a mug on top sat by and a book was on the chair, looking as if someone had just been reading. 16

Caudery took off his glasses and looked around. Frost sparkled on the sections of the floor which were exposed to the elements. Several tarpaulins served as a temporary roof overhead. The bookcases were all upright, but looked odd with only a few books stacked in each. And then there were the plants.

Everywhere there were plants. Caudery's plants.

Caudery went over to the caladium. It was still in the blue teapot. Caudery fingered the leaves, tracing the veins and following the change of colours. Caudery hadn't doubted Fell's ability to take care of his plants, but he did feel some surprise at how lush and full they were. No dry or damaged leaves were to be seen. No dead flowers. And not a single plant was frightened anymore. 17

Caudery smiled.

"I hope they look alright," came Fell's voice. He was standing by with a cardboard box in his arms and a worried expression on his face.

Caudery straightened up. "More than alright," he replied. "In the peak of health."

Fell broke into a revealed smile. "Oh, really? I haven't tended to any flora or fauna to speak of since 380 BC, so I couldn't be sure if I was doing it correctly. I watered them when the soil was dry and trimmed off the bad with scissors."

Caudery tickled the center stem of the caladium. It wiggled happily.

"You didn't sing to them by chance?" Caudery asked.

"No indeed," Fell said, "but I did find that the peace lily enjoys Handel."

Caudery stifled a laugh. "You and Mrs. Alms will get on fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive, angel."

The bookshop soon emptied. Caudery and Fell packed it all up, from the books and plants to Fell's ancient little computer. The Bentley again gave up its backseat to filled cardboard boxes, the boot proved to be useful for the bulkier items. It took several trips and the use of some blankets and rope to tie the furniture to the Bentley's roof, but between the two of them, they did it.

All that remained inside the bookshop were the large bookcases and pillars. Not a book or chair to be seen.

The backroom was clean as a bone and not even the rug was left behind.

Fell took down the bell and shut the door, flipping the slightly burned sign to closed. He locked the door one last time.

Two hundred years of history were being left in the empty shop.

Fell's hand lingered on the doorknob.

It was the end of an era.

But it wasn't the end.

The angel turned his back on the bookshop. Caudery was waiting by the Bentley. Fell got in. Caudery started the engine.

Fell looked down at the gold bell in his hand. It dinged softly.

Caudery let the Bentley sit and purr. He looked at the bell.

"It's over," he said, reaching out and flicking the bell with a long finger.

Fell tucked the bell in his coat. "Perhaps," he agreed. "But when something ends, something else begins. Life is a journey after all. We know the Beginning and the End, the middle is up to us."

Caudery looked at him over his sunglasses. "New beginnings, eh?"

Fell folded his hands and nodded. "New beginnings," he said with a bit of excitement to his placid voice.

Caudery smiled. He shifted the gears and the car shot into drive. The radio played softly without either of them having to touch it, and the Bentley drove like an absolute dream all the way to Mayfair.

Notes:

-All scripture comes from the NKJV and the NIV translations.

-Credit for the beginning prophecy belongs to my friend, Tiger Egern

-Credit for Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy belongs to Queen and Freddy Mercury

1 Which looked exactly like the fangs of snake, as the real Caudery's teeth had been. Because he was a snake.

2 This worked almost the same way as an energy beam centering onto one focal point. Fell had used it when he held the Bentley in one piece. He could also do it so his celestial being shone through his materiel one, where the spiritual overcame the physical, viewing the unseen with his unseen eyes.

3 Fell's rank was compared to Caudery's, in medieval earth terms, as a bondman is to a crown prince.

4 As it says in Romans 6:4 : "Therefore we were buried with Him through baptism into death, that just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, even so we also should walk in newness of life."

5 He could always take up his pestering again later. There were always gullible people with food in the park around lunchtime. The drake was an expert in who had the best sandwiches.

6 It was, of course, Queen.

7 Mr. Tyler was the main contributor to the Tadfield Observer's letter column. The newspaper would receive three or four letters from him every week and it had gotten to the point where they could no longer print his letters due to the volume of negative feedback from the other readers.

8 The feline species are not the only animals with selective hearing. Canines can also be rather good at it, as quite often can their human owners as well.

9 Dog wasn't so keen on the taste of apples. He just hated to be left out of anything Adam was doing.

10 "… In Your light we see light." -Psalm 36:9b

11 The archangels already had their corporal forms, which though not actually human, had the appearance of them. A few of the seraphim, such as Caudery also did, and a few ones of less rank whom the Almighty had assigned to minister among His creation on earth. Fell had been one of these angels.

12 As it says in Mark 13: 32: "But of that day and hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father."

13 And a day without rain by the seaside is nothing short of perfection itself.

14 A wonderful dream it had been, but still only a dream. And with all dreams, it was time for it to come to an end.

15 A common, yet not widely admitted human philosophy is that almost everyone is wiling to anything if the price is right.

16 Which was and always had been very much the case in Fell's bookshop. There was always a book being read or a cup of tea partly finished.

17 Love and fear can not exist together. As a demon, Caudery did love his plants, but he couldn't show them that love, because he was an imperfect creature. The same principle applies to us as human beings. As it says in 1 John 4:18: "There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear, because fear involves torment. But he who fears has not been made perfect in love."