Wuthering Dormice (aka Bike) Part 904 by Angharad Copyright © 2010 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

I stood watching Julie in animated conversation with her father, I wasn’t close enough to hear what was being said, but at least they were both smiling and occasionally laughing together.

Her mother was glaring at her pencil skirt and vee necked jumper. “She looks like a tart–and you’re supposed to be advising her?”

“She looks the same as a thousand other sixteen year old girls,” I sighed. Whatever I said, Mrs Kemp was going to give me a hard time.

“You think you’ve won this, don’t you?”

“Won what? I wasn’t aware we were in a contest, Mrs Kemp.”

“What was it then? Your money seduced my son into making himself look like a girl, and a slut at that. I hope you’re happy now?”

“I would feel far happier if she’d been allowed to do this under your guidance...”

“Never–over my dead body,” she snarled at me.

“I think you’ve answered your own point, Mrs Kemp, if Julie had had some freedom to express herself in your home, she wouldn’t be living with me, now.”

“What you’re doing is against nature–turning a boy into a girl. It’s against God’s holy law.”

Ah–believers–oh boy. I don’t want to hurt them, but they keep sticking their heads above the parapet. Okay, let’s go with what she might understand.

“If we’re talking about the will of God, then I’m afraid your husband has to be dead again–this time for keeps.”

“What? What do you know about it? God would never hurt my Bradley.”

“I saved his life.”

“No, I prayed for it.”

“If you did, I was the answer to those prayers.”

“You–you’re a demon.”

“No a Sagittarius, but I did wrestle with someone to keep him here.”

“Who?”

“Someone called Samael.”

“Who’s he when he’s at home?” she sneered.

“I thought you knew your Bible, Mrs Kemp.”

“You think a posh education makes you better than me.”

“No, it makes me more educated–that’s all, genetics made me cleverer.”

“You arrogant bitch,” she snarled.

“Ask your local priest who Samael is.”

“It’s probably some made up name you’ve thought up just to make me look stupid.”

“You do that well enough without any help from me, and Samael is a name from the old
Testament.”

“You and your clever tricks.”

“Okay, it’s no trick–he’s the Angel of Death, especially for those who are damned.”

“Don’t talk such rubbish.”

“Okay, I won’t–but the next time he comes for your husband, I won’t stop him.”

“How could a thing like you stop him?”

“I have my ways.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Fine–that’s okay with me.”

“I suppose you’re a sorceress are you?”

“No–just a poor working girl–well okay, quite a wealthy working girl, but that has nothing to do with it. The universe seems to have chosen me to defend the souls of those it decides might have a second chance–but they have to change, or the chance is withdrawn, and the second time round, I don’t come to help–so you’re on your own.”

“That is pure rubbish.”

“Isn’t it, but it made you think for a moment, didn’t it?”

“Not for one second–you didn’t save my husband, my God did.”

“Does He know about the ovarian cyst you have which is about to turn cancerous?”

She paled, then recovering her wits responded, “He knows everything.”

“In which case, maybe he should tell you get it seen to, and quickly.”

“How do you know about it–you are some sort of demon, aren’t you?”

“You couldn’t be further from the truth, Mrs Kemp, but if that’s what you wish to believe, that’s fine with me. Give my regards to Samael when he comes to see you. Your daughter and her father seem to be getting along quite well.”

“You did something to him, didn’t you?”

“Yes, saved his life.”

“You did something to his mind–he’s different.”

“No I didn’t–I told you what I did, I kept away the angel of death, and he was then strong enough to recover.”

“That’s all rubbish.”

“Of course it is–I’m a scientist who just happens to get brought in to stop people dying once in a while.”

“See–I knew it, all that Bible stuff–pure nonsense.”

“Absolutely–only fools believe it all, except as allegory. Science is what counts.”

“Science–hah–blasphemy you mean.”

“It may be blasphemy, but it’s what could save your life.”

“I’m quite well; thank you.”

“You won’t be–I promise you, I’m not trying to mess you about–you have a cyst on the ovary which is cancerous.”

“How do you know?”

“I know these things.”

“You’ve made it so, haven’t you? You’ll be happy when I’m dead, then you’ll have no competition for John, and I suppose you’re after Brad as well?”

“Mrs Kemp, if you die, I have to deal with a very distressed teenager. I’m not in competition with you over anything. The same coincidence which caused me to save your husband has caused me to save your daughter. Jung would call it meaningful coincidence or synchronicity. It happens very rarely. I wish you no harm, Mrs Kemp, we angels aren’t allowed to do that, but I am charged with looking after Julie until she is able to make her own decisions–given that you signally failed. I’m going home now, and she is coming with me.”

“If you’re an angel–I’m the Virgin Mary.” She poo-pooed me, then added, “If you’re an angel why can’t you cure this cyst thing for me?”

“I’ve already sorted the patch in your lung and liver, if I did that too, you’d never know would you–instead, you have a chance to realise who you’re up against. Remember Samael won’t be cheated twice. See your doctor–you have a month before it becomes untreatable.”

I walked away and Julie saw me leaving, she hugged her father and kissed him on the cheek, she ran to her mother who was very uncomfortable with her hug. The older woman glared at me–I wasn’t exaggerating, she had a month before she started to die.

“You spent a lot of time talking with my mother,” she remarked when we were back in the car.

“Yes, I was urging her to see her doctor.”

“She won’t, she doesn’t like him.”

“In which case, she has six months to live.”

“What?” she gasped–“You’re trying to scare me.”

“I’m not, Julie. She has a malignancy in an ovarian cyst–I’ve asked her to see her doctor.”

“Can’t you cure it for her?”

“No–I sorted two other sites while I was talking to her, I can only do so much.”

“But, Mummy, you have to.”

“Why do I? I’ve told her where the problem is, doesn’t she have some responsibility for her own health.”

“But you cure people?”

“Sometimes I can’t.”

“Or won’t.”

“It isn’t a case of that–the energy only allowed me to do what I did. If I hadn’t
she’d have been dead by Easter.”

“You’ve got to tell her.”

“I tried that, Julie.”

“Stop the car.”

“Why?”

“I’ll tell her.”

“Tell her what?”

“I’ll tell her you’re really an angel in disguise.”

“I told her that–she doesn’t believe me, or wouldn’t believe me.”

“She’ll believe me.”

I stopped the car and she calmly walked out in front of an ambulance which was screaming into the hospital. It knocked her sideways like a leaf caught in the breeze. My heart seemed to stop.

I remember running in slow motion towards her screaming her name–she lay like a bundle of rags, her limbs all twisted by the side of the road. Had she done this to prove her point? Was it an accident–didn’t she see the ambulance racing towards her? More to the point–was she saveable–did I have the strength to fight off Samael once more?

I scooped her up and started running towards A&E, hoping that I could work the trick once more–and that Ken Nicholls was on duty to let me.