The Epilogue

Two Years Later

"Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins."

-1 Peter 4:8

Crickets were strumming lazily in the hedgerows. Overhead, the sky was deep azure, with cotton clouds. The late summer haze hung over the fields, making it appear like glitter had been sprinkled on the grass. Every once in a while, a cloud of dust would puff up into the air from the country road as a car drove by.

Up the road came a young man, hands in his pockets, a slouch to his posture. His hair had a glow to it in the afternoon sun, something like a golden-ginger halo surrounding his head.

By his side padded a small black dog. The dog matched his master's stride, but didn't move quite as fast as he once did. Dog was now middle-aged, getting on to his twilight years. He could still bother the large ginger cat next door and chase rabbits, he just did so a little more slowly now.

Dog came to a stop and panted, feeling a little winded.

Adam Young noticed and also stopped.

"You alright, Dog?" he asked.

Dog coughed a couple times, then looked up and wagged his tail.

As the pair rounded the corner towards the Young's house, Adam heard his name being called.

"Adam! Oh, Adam!"

"Here, Mum!" the young man hollered loud enough for the entire village to hear.

His mother looked out of the kitchen window. She smiled when she saw his face over the hedge. "Aubrey wants you, Adam. She's been asking for the last half hour."

Adam went around to the front garden. He opened the gate, Dog trotted in, heading for the bone he'd left near the rose bushes.

The front door opened. A little girl of three stood there, with pudgy legs and pigtails. At seeing her big brother, her plump face turned into a huge smile.

"Adam! Adam!" she cried.

Adam squatted, perched on the heels of his trainers and held out his arms.

The little girl toddled down the steps. She picked up speed and tripped over her shoes.

Adam swooped in and caught her. Aubrey burst out in giggles. Adam tickled her. She giggled even louder, flailing her arms about.

The roar of a powerful engine came over the peaceful landscape.

I'm taking my right in destiny, willing to play my part
Living with painful memories, loving with all my heart
Made in heaven, made in heaven it was all meant to be yeah…

Adam scooped up his little sister. She grabbed at his neck with a happy gurgle.

Dog paused in chewing his bone.

That's what everybody says to me, can't you see, oh
I know, I know, I know that it's true
Yes it's really meant to be deep in my heart…

Adam stood just as a big black car came roaring down the road. The melodious sounds of Queen were floating though the air from the open windows.

When stormy weather comes around, it was made in heaven
When sunny skies break through behind the clouds
I wish it could last forever, yeah…

Adam grinned. He waved as the giant vintage car went from the furious speed it was traveling to a gentle halt outside the gate.

The driver leaned out of his window, one hand on the steering wheel.

"Adam Young," he said with a sharp-toothed grin, his sunglasses slipping down his nose on one side.

Made in heaven, made in heaven, it was all meant to be
Made in heaven, made in heaven…

Adam shifted the squirming Aubrey and shook Caudery's hand.

"Mr. Caudery and Mr. Fell."

The stocky man in the passenger seat gave Adam a cheery wave.

"So, what's it like being normal?" Caudery asked.

"Fine."Adam shrugged.

"No Antichrist or other demons lurking around?"

"Nope. None."

Caudery grinned back at him. "Excellent."

Aubrey twisted in Adam's arms and shot a fat little hand in Caudery's direction. Her fingers connected with his sunglasses and she pulled them off his face.

Caudery laughed while Adam tried to get the glasses away from the toddler before they went in her mouth. Aubrey didn't want to give up her prize, but Adam managed to snatch the sunglasses just as she was going to bite down on the arm.

"Sorry," Adam said, handing Caudery the sticky plastic frames.

Caudery didn't mind. "She's only a baby."

His orange eyes twinkled brightly at Aubrey as she tried to eat his finger.

"Speaking of babies, you here to see Newt and Anathema?" Adam asked.

"You guessed it," Caudery replied, wiping off his finger on his tie. "We made it from South Downs in three hours."

"How fast were you driving?" Adam asked.

Fell groaned. "Too fast."

Adam grinned. "Wicked."

"That's one word for it," Fell muttered, managing a smile.

Adam continued to grin. "Dad refuses to let me drive his Morris until I learn to drive at a more reasonable speed."

"Wise man," Caudery commented.

"You're the one who taught him, Caudery!" Fell said.

Caudery opened the glove compartment and pulled out a clean, dry pair of sunglasses.

"I didn't teach him to drive like an idiot."

He slid the new glasses on.

"And how would you describe your driving?" Fell asked.

"Fast."

Aubrey giggled and Adam grinned at this exchange.

"You can park the Bentley behind Newt's Turpin," Adam said.

"Don't tell me he got another useless car," Caudery groaned.

"You'll see," Adam said, holding his squirming baby sister tight.

Caudery dodged out of the way of Aubrey's sticky little hands and engaged the clutch.

Anathema and Newt's cottage had a cozy look to it. It was freshly painted, the wisteria vine well-trimmed and trained, the grass in the garden clipped to a perfect length.

Caudery parked next to a small green car. It was not the original Dick Turpin, but it was of a similar make. Caudery inspected it more closely and was pleased to note it was not a completely junky vehicle. It had power steering and power windows anyway. And by the looks of it, there was even a cassette deck.

"Oh cooie! Mr. Fell and Mr. Caudery!"

Caudery straightened up. He'd know Madame Tracy's voice anywhere.

Leaning out of the window of the cottage next door was the very lady in question.

"Oh, hello!" Fell said with a smile, walking around the two cars.

Caudery joined him. "I didn't know you moved to Tadfield, Tracy," Caudery remarked.

"Oh yes, last August," Madame Tracy beamed. "And it's not Madame Tracy anymore, and it's also not Agatha Potts. It's Agatha Shadwell."

Caudery shook his head in exasperation while Fell gave her his most sincere congratulations.

"Married, how delightful!" Fell said with a smile.

"So you finally hooked him," Caudery said matter-of-factually.

Agatha laughed. "He hasn't deserted me yet."

She looked somehow younger without all the makeup and the scarves and robes she used to wear. Her hair was a shade of pale blond, mixed here and there with gray, but her eyes were clear and bright, and her face full of life. Caudery wondered if domesticated life had done the same for the ex-sergeant Shadwell.

A moment later and Shadwell himself shuffled into the kitchen behind her.

"Got any tea, Ag?" he grunted.

He looked the same Shadwell as he always had, except that his hair was neat and his clothes had the appearance of having seen the inside of a machining machine more than once a year.

Shadwell stopped when he saw the two visitors outside the window.

"Shadwell," Caudery said with a smirk. "Enjoying retirement?"

"Er…" Shadwell fumbled with his words. "Er… aye."

Agatha turned to him. "Tea is on the hob, Terry."

Shadwell made a beeline for the kettle and left the kitchen as quickly as his loafers would go.

Agatha chuckled. "He's shy, poor dear."

Neither Fell or Caudery imagined that Shadwell could ever be shy.

"Embarrassed more likely," Caudery muttered."How's it living with ye old ex-witchfinder?" He jerked a finger after Shadwell.

The ex-Madame Tracy giggled. "He can be very sweet at times. Mind you, he'd never want me to say that. Last year, he asked what flowers I liked and the next day they appeared on the table. Pretended he didn't know a thing about it. Silly thing. He's taken to puttering about in the garden. Poking in the flowerbeds, putting in mulch. Hasn't a clue what he's doing. There's a bit of a rivalry between him and that Mr. Tyler from over on Cherry Cross. Mr. Tyler did not like how he was pruning the hedge and Shadwell has kept doing it in the same fashion just to spite him."

"Just like him," Caudery just loud enough for Fell to hear.

The principality shoved him with an elbow.

"You're here to see the new addition, aren't you?" Agatha said, leaning on the windowsill.

"Indeed, we are," Fell confirmed.

"Well, I'll see you later, then. We'll do dinner."

"We are expected back-" Fell began.

The lady would hear none of it. "You're having dinner here, young man, and that is the end of it."

Fell babbled for words. Caudery leaned close to him.

"Better be wise and surrender now," he whispered in Fell's ear.

"We would be delighted," Fell said, while wanting to poke Caudery in the ribs, then wondering where that unangelic thought had come from.

Agatha smiled. "Marvelous. Consider yourselves captured for the evening. Now I'll see you later, dears."

She withdrew into her kitchen, the flowered curtains fluttering.

Fell turned to Caudery. "Now we won't get home until after dark," he complained.

"You scared of the dark, then?" asked the devilishly grinning seraphim.

"You know I'm not," Fell grumbled. "I just don't like being in the car while you drive in the dark. Makes me jittery."

"Fine. We'll spend the night," Caudery replied. "No big deal. Relax."

Fell smoothed out his jacket and patted his bow tie. "I am perfectly relaxed, thank you," he said stiffly.

"Could have fooled me," Caudery teased, poking a long finger at Fell's bow tie, messing it up.

Fell sighed. "Let's just go in before the baby grows up, shall we?"

Caudery snorted and led the way up the walk. Caudery's knock on the pale blue door was answered moments later.

Newton Pulsifer looked the same; a thin young man with spiky ginger hair and metal-framed glasses. He was wearing jeans and the usual chequered shirt.

"Hello, Newton," Fell smiled warmly at his former assistant.

"Sir," Newt greeted him, then his eyes wandered to Caudery with uncertainty.

"If you call me 'sir', I'll smite you with a bolt of lightening," the man said with his mouth a firm line and his black eyebrows drawn down tight over his sunglasses.

Newt stepped back, his hand on the door tightening.

"Caudery! Behave!" Fell scolded. "Don't scare Newt."

Newt's face went a shade of pink as Caudery began to chuckle.

"Sorry, Newt. Couldn't help it."

Newt swallowed and nodded. His unease around Caudery hadn't subsided over time or distance, and the man's sarcastic humour and sharp teeth didn't help the matter.

Newt opened the door wider. "Anathema's waiting in the garden," he said.

"And you don't need to worry, I haven't smitted anyone in weeks really," Caudery said as Newt shut the door after them.

Newt looked alarmed.

"Caudery!" Fell snapped, giving him a glare.

"S-s-sorry," Caudery said and clearly was anything but.

Fell grumbled.

Caudery grinned. "Lead the way, Newt."

Newt scurried past them into the sitting room, wondering why his wife had thought it a good idea to invite the two of them.

A large picture window opened from the sitting room to the back garden. The window went right to the floor of the room and by ducking, one could pass out into the garden. Flat stones were arranged under the window on the outside for steps.

Newt went though the window with Fell and Caudery following. Late summer flowers added unexpected bursts of colour among the various trees and shrubs in the garden. A little patio was set against the house on the near side with a bench and deckchairs.

A black and white dog lay stretched on the stones in the sun, and on the bench sat Anathema. In her arms was a bundle all wrapped up in a blue blanket. She looked up when she heard the sound of visitors.

She smiled as Fell tried to squeeze through the window.

"If you push the glass to the left, it will open wider," she said.

Fell pushed and tumbled into the garden. Caudery stepped through behind him, managing not to stumble.

The dog lifted her head and looked at the newcomers with interest. Seeing them as no threat to her family, she got up and gave a large stretch, proving to be a greyhound by her long limbs and streamlined body. She shook herself and and trotted over, starting by sniffing Fell's hands.

Caudery reached out and scratched the dog's ears. Immediately, the tail began to wag furiously. Caudery scratched under the chin. The dog whined loudly.

"Heaven, shh," Newt said. "You'll wake him."

Fell was reminded of the original reason for their visit and stopped rubbing the dog's nose.

"May we see?" he asked softly.

Anathema nodded.

Caudery gently pushed the dog aside.

Anathema stood, holding the bundle close. The two angels were careful to not make a sound.

The smile of a proud mother was on Anathema's lips. She gently unfolded the blanket. A plump little face surrounded by dark curls was revealed.

If it had belonged to an angel, the face couldn't have been more precious. The baby shared his tan colouring and curly hair with his mother and his nose with his father. A hand poked through the blanket as the baby moved in his sleep.

Fell smiled. "He's so precious," he said, looking down at the bundle.

Newt stepped next to Anathema and put his hand over hers.

"He is, isn't he?" he echoed, having eyes only for his son.

Caudery took off his sunglasses to no one's notice and studied the sleeping infant. "He's not bad for a human," he voiced, twirling the arm of his glasses.

Anathema and Caudery didn't hear the remark. Only Fell gave him a quick glance.

Caudery had to smile. "Alright, he's adorable."

Fell couldn't agree more. The angel put a hand to his face and sighed, looking over Newt's shoulder.

"Fell, you're cooing," Caudery whispered.

Fell blushed. "I wasn't."

"Yes, you were."

"It's not my fault the baby is so cute!" the angel retorted with fluster. "It's just… well, oh I can't explain it, Caudery!"

"It's the miracle of life," Caudery said, hands in his pockets.

The baby stirred and opened his eyes.

Anathema sat down on the bench, balancing him in her arms as he started to move around. The other arm poked out of the blanket, followed by two feet in little socks. Anathema placed her hand on his tummy, moving her hand slowly in a circular motion. The baby gurgled and smiled.

Newt also sat down, smiling as the baby giggled happily.

Heaven, the greyhound, sat on her hunches by Anathema's side, watching the tiny human with alert eyes and a dogish interest.

Caudery reached a hand down and petted her head.

"What do you say to this, Heaven?" he asked the dog. "Do you understand your namesake?"

In reply, she leaned back into him and licked his hand. Caudery chuckled to himself.

The baby let out a loud shriek, then laughed, trying to put his father's fingers in his mouth.

"What have you chosen for a name?" Fell asked. "Last thing I heard you were undecided."

"Not anymore," Newt said, pulling a sock on one baby foot that was about to become airborne. "This is Nissan Pulsifer."

"Nissan," Fell repeated.

"It's Hebrew," Anathema twirled a blue coloured fingernail in the baby's hair. "It means omen or miracle. We both saw the name and felt it was perfect."

"Perfect," Fell said.

"I'd say it is-s-s," Caudery said with a hiss.

Baby Nissan Pulsifer gave a shout and clapped his hands in glee.

From the outside, the cottage was nothing extraordinary. It had a thatched roof and white-washed walls, as all the old seaside cottages did. A green gate led into the garden, well tended and neat. Off to the west, great fields of green and yellow rolled on for miles, ending in the valley known as Devil's Dyke. Swallows darted over the grass, swooping back and forth. To the east of the cottage, the fields ended in cliffs and beyond them was the sea. The water was shimmering in various shades of blues and greens, ever changing under the early morning sky.

Flowers bobbed in the sea breeze beside the cottage and inside the cottage, the outdoors had been invited in. Every room held a plant of some description, adding a burst of unexpected green.

In the sitting room, a large peace lily covered in blooms sat next to a white leather sofa. A few small ferns and caladiums mixed with old books on the shelves. A large philodendron took up residence in a sunny corner in front of the windows. The top of it just about brushed the ceiling beams.

Another peace lily graced a bedroom and a very bushy ostrich fern sat perched on a plant stand, ready to greet those who came in at the door.

Mrs. Alms was in the kitchen. The kettle was on the hob, whistling merrily. Mrs. Alms was at the sink, watering a potted sunflower. They were dwarf sunflowers, a gift to her from Fell and Caudery, just because.

The cool water ran down the stems and off the leaves, catching the golden sunlight in the droplets.

She hummed to herself a bit of a catchy tune from her youth.

Though it was barely dawn, Mrs. Alms had been up for hours. It promised to be a beautiful day, as all the days had been. Even when the weather was cloudy, the sun still shone for her. Every day was better than the last, and if Heaven was anything like it was at Eden Cottage, Mrs. Alms would be more than content. She already felt blessed beyond measure, it was difficult to be anything other than perfectly happy.

Th kettle gave a loud whistle and she turned the gas off. From a cupboard she pulled a trio of mugs. She took cream out of the icebox.

She glanced at the clock over the stove. They should be here any minute now. She checked her watch against the clock and adjusted it so they were in sync.

Mrs. Alms set the sunflowers in the center of the dining table. Three place settings were arranged on the cloth.

She filled a watering pail and wandered into the sitting room. The plants all seemed to reach towards her as she went from one to another.

She straightened the record albums stacked beside the vintage phonograph. Most of the records belonged to Caudery and featured artists the lady had never heard of, but the classicals had all come from her own collection. The album of Handel's Water Music had been an anniversary gift from her late husband.

On the mantel sat a small array of framed photographs. One was Mrs. Alms and Frank as sweethearts. Another when they were older. The other photos were all square and in black and white, and a few of them appeared to show scenes from before the invention of the camera. Was that a shot from ancient Rome? And a person would be sure to swear those fashions were from the 1790s' France. But of course, one could be mistaken.

The photograph given the prestige of placement in the middle of the mantel had been taken in a cafe. Two young men were in the image, one blond-haired, holding a book, the other dark and wearing sunglasses. They were both smiling at each other, as if they had just met and slipped into easy conversation. It looked to be the start of an enduring friendship.

Above the row of photographs there hung a sword. It wasn't the usual adornment to hang over a fireplace nowadays, but this sword had a special significance to its owner. The sword was long and gleamed celestially. It was a sword belonging to a warrior and had been wielded by an angel. One day it would again.

Car tyres crunched over the gravel drive outside.

Mrs. Alms set her watering can on the coffee table. She went to the cottage door and opened it just as the vintage Bentley's engine was shut off. The car doors swung open and two men stepped out into the morning air.

"Ah, finally here at last," said the stouter of the two. He paused and took a deep breath.

"Until we're called back into service by the Lord," the other agreed, adjusting his dark sunglasses.

"And until he does, this is home to me," the first replied, walking around the back of the car, giving it a pat on the chrome-work as he did.

"Hello, my dears!" Mrs. Alms called with a smile.

Both men smiled.

"Hello, Mrs. Alms," Caudery said. He drew her into a gentle hug with one long arm and kissed her on the cheek.

"Oh Anthony, really," she laughed.

He grinned, the gleam of his sharp white teeth and his orange eyes combined to make him even more handsome in Mrs. Alms' eyes.

"You deserve it," he said. He gave her arm a squeeze and went into the cottage.

Mrs. Alms turned to the other young man before her. He was more reserved than Caudery and a bit shy, but she liked him all the same. He was just as handsome, just in a different way. He wore bow ties and patterned jumpers and Caudery wore slim, dark suits. Two halves of one whole.

Mrs. Alms held out her hands. "Aloysius. How was the journey?"

Fell took her hands.

"Tolerable," he said, smiling. "Caudery slowed to seventy-five once we entered Oxford."

Mrs. Alms gave another laugh. "That is good to hear, my dear!"

Fell kissed her hand and stepped into the foyer.

Mrs. Alms shut the front door before any of the curious birds flew in.

Caudery was in the sitting room, admiring the tree of a philodendron. The green leaves were swaying gently in the breeze from the open windows.

"Bartholomew certainly has come into his own," Caudery said to Mrs. Alms.

She beamed happily, picking up her watering pail. "It's all in the Green Grow spray," she said. "I've sworn by it for years."

"It's all down to the hands who do the tending," Caudery replied, moving the plant pot with the toe of his boot.

"We almost can't see the bookcase now," Fell said, coming from the direction of the bedrooms. He had combed his blond hair and put on a clean jumper and bow tie.

"Problem?" Caudery raised an eyebrow.

Fell rolled his shoulders, the closest he could get to shrug. "Just remarking."

Mrs. Alms tipped the spout of the watering pail into the pot of a hosta.

"The tea water is hot, if you boys would like a cup before breakfast," she said.

"I rather fancy a walk first," Fell said. "Stretch of the legs after being in an automobile for hours."

"Sounds good to me," Caudery said, hanging the Bentley's car keys on a hook beside a tartan scarf. "Care to join us, Nanc?"

Mrs. Alms shook her head. "Not today, Anthony. My knees aren't what they were. I think I will just sit in the garden."

"No working on the flowerbeds," Fell reminded her. "Just a sit-down."

"Of course, dear. Have a good walk. Breakfast will be ready by eight."

The meadowlarks were trilling in the tall grasses. Swallows darted across the sky as it changed to shades of brilliant orange and gold.

Fell and Caudery walked slowly along the dusty country lane. Traffic rarely came this way, even in the height of summer. It was just wide open spaces of rolling fields, endless skies and the sea.

The onshore breeze was strongly scented of salt and rippled through the grass like waves on the water. It was in wild beautiful places such as this that one felt free and closer to God. At least, this was Caudery's opinion.

"It's harder when you're in a city, surrounded by man-made structures of metal, glass and concrete," Caudery said thoughtfully. "It isn't natural. No being was created to live in a cage; made of steel bars or otherwise. We were created to be free."

Fell watched the swallows dance overhead.

"Even the birds wish to be free," he said. "Free from the fear of being hunted, eaten and the ongoing ordeal of survival."

"One day, they shall be," Caudery said, hands deep in his trouser pockets. "One day, all creation shall be free as it was created to be. Free and in complete harmony with the One who created and designed it all. One day."

"One day," Fell repeated.

From behind the golden clouds, the new morning sun appeared, sending forth rays of light over the shimmering water, echoing the yellow flowers scattered in the fields, as the day began to unfold in all its spender.

And so here we will leave Fell and Caudery, walking lazily through the summer haze, the two angels perfectly content in the Almighty's service and in each other's company, patiently waiting for that day when all would be made new.

The End

Notes:

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

-Credit for Made in Heaven belongs to Queen and Freddy Mercury.