Richard choked. “An Angel? Are you crazy?”
“Crazy is a state of mind beneath me – as are you, Richard Pointer.”
“How do you know my name?”
“I know all names, all fates, all journeys. Yours is a particularly interesting one. Your true mother abandoned you, but this you do not know. Yet that nagging feeling of rejection has spurred your every decision. You are a callous businessman, a competitive being, and a domineering husband. Your wife dreads you.”
Richard’s heart throbbed at the accusation, causing him actual pain. Perhaps the reason it hurt so much was because, deep down, he knew it was true. He was a control-freak and always had been. The fact that he allowed himself to control his lovely wife made him feel wretched.
“Do not fret, Richard Pointer. There are many men worse than you. Despite their dread, your family loves you. Go to them now. Comfort them as the end draws near. You have an opportunity that many will not. You know that the end is coming; you can say the things that need saying and die with an unburdened soul.”
Richard looked at the… Angel… and knew that it was all true. The world was truly ending and this being before him was its deliverer. Life was an inconsequential mess and it was now coming to an abrupt finish. Despite the fear that knowledge brought, Richard was indeed grateful for the gift of knowing. He would enjoy his final evening with his family; enjoy the final winter of man’s existence. Richard turned around and headed for the house, to be with his family and wait for the end of the world.
COLD SHOULDER
“Any more wine?” asked Amanda.
John turned to his wife and sighed. “Haven’t you had enough tonight?”
“Just go get another bottle and stop giving me grief. It’s not like I have work tomorrow. Maybe not all week if it keeps snowing like this – Whoop!”
John shook his head. He knew his wife was drunk because he was too. They’d polished off a bottle of red each and the heavy feeling it left him was dragging him towards sleep. Amanda was different though – she never quit while the night was still young. There was no point arguing with her, so John diligently went and got another bottle of Shiraz from the kitchen cabinet. There was another three bottles after this one and he worried. His wife would never drink them all – nowhere near in fact – but she may well keep going until she passed out.
Or turns nasty.
John re-entered the living room and unscrewed the bottle cap. He leant over Amanda’s glass and started pouring until the glass was almost full. He then topped up his own glass halfway.
“Sit down, honey. Never Mind The Buzzcocks is coming on. You like that.”
He did and was grateful that his wife was in an accommodating mood. He sat down beside her and put a hand on her lap. It was a struggle to focus on the television, however, because something was on his mind. “You think Jess is going to make it home from work okay?”
“Yeah,” slurred Amanda. “Why wouldn’t she?”
John shrugged. “The snow’s gotten pretty bad. Have you seen it recently?”
“Couple hours ago. Wasn’t that bad.”
“It is now. I’m starting to get a bit worried. You think I should try and walk down and meet her from the supermarket. Her shift finishes in ten minutes.”
Amanda turned the TV up slightly and frowned. “She’ll be fine. If you leave now you’d only end up missing her.”
John thought she was probably right. The weather was close to a full-blown blizzard now and it was difficult to see beyond a couple of feet. Unless he knew the exact path that his daughter took home, they would miss each other. He didn’t fancy going out in the cold pointlessly.
On the television, the programme began and John and his wife watched it. It was funny, but John couldn’t find it in him to laugh. The same wasn’t true of Amanda who was cackling at every joke, even if it was only mildly funny.
How the hell did we end up like this, he thought to himself secretly. Amanda hadn’t always been like this. The underlying edge of aggression she now possessed seemed to grow more volatile each year, and her drinking was becoming more commonplace. His own drinking had gotten much worse than it used to be too. After twenty years of marriage, an unspoken resentment had begun to take control of their relationship. John didn’t know how to stop it and was unsure if he even wanted to. It felt like something needed to change.
He wouldn’t change the past though. Most of those twenty married years had been joyous, moving down to contentedness in the latter half. And of course they had a beautiful daughter. Jess being born was the proudest moment of John’s life and he never stopped feeling that way about her. She was a strong girl with a character he admired. In fact she seemed to have many of her mother’s good points – he just hoped that she lacked some of the worst.
“You paying attention?” Amanda asked him, breaking him away from his thoughts.
He nodded to her. “Just tired. Think I might go to bed soon.”
Amanda huffed. “God, when did you become such a fuddy duddy? It’s not even ten yet.”
“I just can’t hold my wine like some people.”
Amanda scowled at him and leant away on the sofa. “What is that supposed to mean?”
John sighed and got up from the sofa. “Nothing. Nothing at all. You just do whatever you want, while I go to bed. Think that would suit both of us.”
“Would suit me better if your bed was somewhere else.”
Amanda often said nasty things when she was drunk, but that one was uncalled for. He turned around and faced her. “You keep saying things like that and you may just get your wish.”
Amanda stood up and came at him. “Don’t you threaten me.”
He took a step away from her. “You’re the one who bloody said it! Just sit back down. I’m not in the mood.”
He tried to walk away, but Amanda followed. “What’s your problem, John?”
He carried on walking. “What’s my problem? I’m fine. I just want to go to bed.”
“No,” said Amanda. “I want to know what your problem is.”
John hadn’t been aware that he had voiced a problem, but rationality was never a key component of one of Amanda’s arguments. He was starting to feel angry, but he had to keep a lid on it. The last thing the situation needed was two drunken people going at each other.
“Stop walking away,” Amanda shouted after him.
He did so, turning to look at her. He tried to stay calm. “Look, honey, I’m sorry if I upset you. I don’t want to fight. I’m just worried about Jess.”
Amanda huffed. “You needn’t be.”
Something about the way she had just said that raised the hackles on John’s neck. He felt a sudden stone of dread in his guts. “What do you mean by that?”
Amanda laughed and walked away. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
“No,” said John, following back after her. “What are you talking about? Why would I not worry about my own goddamn daughter?”
Amanda spun around and looked at him with a hatred that John hadn’t realised she’d had for him. Their marriage really was over, he realised. The suffocating sadness that he felt was lessened slightly by the relief that also took root inside of him. He didn’t care about any of that right now though. He wanted to know what Amanda had meant. She told him.
“She’s not even your daughter,” she shouted at him. “She never has been. I was fucking one of the neighbours when we lived in Burnley.”