Clovenhoof (15 page)

“Manual?”

“Yes the manual, the instruction book. It tells you exactly what to do, and if you stick with that you’ll rarely get problems.”

“Since when did people do what the book told them?”

Ryan nodded knowingly.

“I know. Bane of our lives.”

“So you agree that humans should never have been given free will?”

“Um, I don’t think I said that,” said Ryan.

“Why would you give them free will, if they could do anything they liked?”

“Isn’t free will sort of the point of us being here?”

“But some of the stuff they’ll do will be wrong, or evil or stupid. They might mess up your computers, for instance. Any time you make it all better, someone will come along and break it again.”

Ryan gave Clovenhoof a sideways look.

“But that’s what I’m here for, to make things better. Sometimes you can see that people caused the damage, but that just means that they have to pay for the repair. They still deserve to have stuff that works, don’t they?”

“Well I suppose you get paid either way.”

“That’s true.”

“It’s not like you’re doing it because you care.”

Ryan frowned at that. For a genius, he did seem somewhat uncertain.

“There are lots of people in the world who live completely selfless lives,” he said.

“Really?”

“Like some people are working hard to protect children or end wars. They probably feel as if the odds are against them ever making a difference, but they’re doing what they can, and that’s what’s important.”

“But the crazy thing is that evil’s allowed to exist.”

“Allowed?”

“Any decent God would prevent suffering by making humans do the right thing, and not cause all that harm.”

“Most people I know do the right thing.” Ryan said. Clovenhoof rolled his eyes but Ryan continued undaunted. “But sometimes, you need some exposure to the bad stuff out there so that you can appreciate the good stuff. It’s all about balance.”

The computer chimed into life.

“Oh look, the leads have done the trick.” Ryan said. “Now you can Google your questions.”

“Google?”

“Oh. Let me show you.”

Ryan opened a browser window and showed Clovenhoof how to search the internet. Guided by Ryan he asked the internet how to find out what kind of illness he had. He found the NHS Direct site, which offered to check his symptoms.

He dismissed suggestions about pregnancy, mental health and wounds. He went into the section about headaches, as this was the thing that he’d found the most unpleasant. He answered a series of questions. He couldn’t find where to enter details of his running nose and his wrong-smelling farts, but he thought he was on the right track.

A red warning flashed up on the screen

“It says I’ve got to go the accident and emergency department.”

“Are you not well?” said Ryan.

“What do you think?”

He clutched his head and wondered what could be happening to him. If it was death, then maybe he had a chance to get back where he belonged, but he had no idea that it would
hurt
so much. He thought about the damned in hell. He liked to think of them as his playmates. Did their torments hurt like this too? They always seemed so... playful. This unfortunate new knowledge would kill the party atmosphere if he ever did get back.

He sighed and looked on the computer to see where he’d find an accident and emergency department near his home. It provided him with both directions and a map.

Clovenhoof was impressed despite his imminent demise.

“So, what you were saying about balance,” he asked Ryan, picking up his computer, “do you really believe all that? That bad actions are balanced by good actions, and vice versa?”

“Yes I do, as it happens,” said Ryan. “It’s been a fascinating discussion, Mr Clovenhoof. Tell you what, I won’t charge you for those new leads.”

He winked conspiratorially at Clovenhoof.

“That’s very kind.” Clovenhoof said. He turned to go and then, almost as an afterthought, he leaned over and head butted Ryan, flattening his nose and sending fresh blood across the pine counter.

“Just making sure there’s balance. Didn’t see that coming did you, genius?”

“I went to try and make things up with him,” said Ben, “but he just, well, you know...”

“Acted like a total knob?” said Nerys. “Yeah I know. He’s a pig. In fact, that reminds me.”

She went across to her table where there were magazines and pieces of paper and scribbled out something she’d written. “There.”

“What are you doing?” Ben asked.

“I’m working on my Valentines card list. Clovenhoof’s definitely off.”

Ben remembered their previous encounter and edged quietly towards the door.

“Don’t worry, the photo’s all done. I got Dave to do it. It’s at the printers now.”

“That was good of him. I bet he’s top of the list.”

“Dave?” Nerys laughed. “Don’t be silly. We can’t give him ideas like that! No, my list is broad, but it’s very carefully selected.”

“What are all the magazines for?”

“
Hello
magazine is for the celebrity break-ups. Eligible men on the rebound. These others are trade magazines we get at work. I can target all the movers and shakers in the most lucrative fields. Then I always check the obituaries, local and national, to see if anyone interesting has been recently bereaved. You’d be surprised how they respond to a bit of kindness and attention.”

“So, how long
is
your list?” Ben asked.

“I’ve ordered a print run of five hundred. I can call off more in blocks of fifty if I need to.”

Ben blew out his cheeks.

“Aren’t you afraid of rejection?”

“I’m less afraid of rejection than I am of not finding Mr Right.”

“Am I on the list?”

“Oh Ben, you are funny!” laughed Nerys.

“I don’t think you realise, this is pretty serious.” Clovenhoof said to the receptionist at Good Hope Hospital.

“Please take a seat, sir, someone will be out to see you soon.”

“But I’ve been here for an hour already.”

“You might have to wait for a bit longer, there’s a queue.”

“But it’s an emergency! My computer said so. I think I’m dying!” Clovenhoof yelled.

“Please don’t get agitated, sir. We’ll be with you when we can. I’m fairly certain that you’re not dying.”

“Are you a doctor? No. You’re a pencil pusher. I must be dying. It hurts so much. Do you know my legs feel wobbly as well? My head is thumping and my throat hurts, of course I’m dying.”

“It sounds like a cold to me.”

“A cold? A COLD! Are you crazy? People get colds all the time! There’s no way that this is a cold. I’m in AGONY.”

He turned to the waiting room.

“Nobody here’s really suffering, are they? Not like I am?”

“Sir, there are people here with much more serious problems than you. There’s a woman with a broken arm, several people with bad lacerations and a boy with glass stuck in his knee.”

Clovenhoof wandered over to the woman who was cradling her arm.

“Are you sure that it’s broken? That sounds pretty serious.”

He picked it up, making her scream with pain and shock, and saw that it was an unusual S shape at the wrist.

“Oh yeah.”

“Security!” said the receptionist into the phone.

“Listen,” Clovenhoof said, addressing all of the waiting patients. “Why do you put up with this? If you’re really suffering then who wants to sit and wait for help? It’s completely stupid.”

A large security contractor took him by the arm at that point and led him away to a room where he sat for another two hours, glaring sullenly at his captor.

Eventually a head appeared around the door.

“Mr Clovenhoof?”

“Yes.”

“I am Doctor Singh. We’ll do an examination on you now.”

Clovenhoof gave a weak smile. At last! Someone would find out how ill he really was.

He followed Doctor Singh to a cubicle, and took a seat on the edge of a bed.

“Roll up your sleeve for me please.”

Clovenhoof exposed his arm and closed his lips around the thermometer that was slipped into his mouth. The doctor put a cuff onto his upper arm and pressed the button to inflate it. The machine made a noise like a wounded buffalo.

“Aaargh! What are you doing to me?” yelled Clovenhoof. “It’s crushing my arm, make it stop!”

“It’s just to measure your blood pressure,” said the doctor, pressing his stethoscope to Clovenhoof’s lower arm and pressing another button to deflate the cuff. “Really nothing to worry about.”

He paused as he looked at the results, and pressed the inflate button.

“I’m just going to check that again.”

There was a small
ting
and the end flew off the thermometer.

Doctor Singh turned to look.

“Oh, that is most unfortunate. A faulty thermometer. Let’s get another.”

He fetched another thermometer and put it in Clovenhoof’s mouth as he repeated the blood pressure check. Clovenhoof managed not to yell this time.

Doctor Singh’s pen hovered over his clipboard, a frown upon his face, when there was another small
ting
and the second thermometer broke.

He crossed out everything he’d written and wrote
faulty equipment
across the section.

“OK, we have the gremlins today. Let’s get some history. Did you ever smoke?”

“No,” said Clovenhoof, “but I worked for years in a smoky environment.”

“How about alcohol? How much would you say you drink?”

“Well, I like to drink Lambrini. It’s very weak.”

“Well, go easy on it while you’ve got this cold.”

“A cold! You people clearly don’t know what you’re doing!” Clovenhoof yelled.

“I do think it’s possible that you have a secondary infection as well. You’re running quite a high temperature.”

“An infection? Is that serious?”

“It can be, if untreated. I think I’ll give you a shot of antibiotics just to be on the safe side.”

Clovenhoof felt a swelling of pride. He
did
have something life threatening after all.

The doctor rubbed his arm with something chilly and then produced a small instrument that Clovenhoof regarded with interest.

“What’s tha – oww!” he howled and leaped back. “How can you call yourself a doctor? You’re an inflicter of pain! If I still had my old job, I’d snap you up with skills like that! Did you make a hole in me?”

“Just a little prick.”

Clovenhoof gave him a look.

“Now you’re just being offensive.”

Nerys finished writing the last address.

“I need to make sure that these get in the last post and I can make it if you’ll help me.”

“You’ve got plenty of time yet.”

“No, I haven’t. They all need swalking.”

“They need what-ing?”

“They need a SWALK. It stands for Sealed With A Loving Kiss. Here, put this on.”

Ben examined the offered lipstick.

“SuperVamp?” he read out. “Can’t I have something a bit less -”

“Just put it on.”

Ben applied the lipstick with an obvious lack of training. Nerys sighed and applied some more, so that it was at least symmetrical.

Ben tried his first SWALK. He closed his eyes and pressed his lips to the envelope.

“Whoa, steady! It’s just meant to be a light peck!”

Nerys examined his work and sighed.

“You’re not supposed to be snogging them, it looks like a crime scene. Do it like this.”

She demonstrated the required technique, puckering up and dabbing lightly.

“Then you put a bit more lippy on after every four or five.”

They worked their way down the pile, Ben becoming much more adept at handling the lipstick.

“Good, that’s the lot,” said Nerys finally, packing the envelopes into carrier bags. “Er, Ben. Why are you putting on more lipstick?”

“This is the best my lips have felt for weeks, they get really dry in the winter.”

Clovenhoof walked home from the hospital. However, he soon regretted attempting something so energetic, particularly when the computer under his arm revealed itself to not simply be silvery and very clever but also very very heavy. It started to rain heavily. He was only a short way from home but he couldn’t afford another soaking, not when he had an infection. He scurried up the pathway of St Michael’s and sheltered in the doorway.

The door opened and the vicar, the Reverend Evelyn Steed, backed out, keys in hand to lock up. She glanced at Clovenhoof and then did a double take. She clearly remembered him.

“It’s Jeremy, isn’t it?”

He nodded glumly.

“Can I help you?” she asked him, with an expression that suggested she was thinking he might be there to cause further trouble.

Clovenhoof shook his head and stared at the floor.

“No, really,” she said, softening. “Can I?”

Clovenhoof shrugged.

“You look unhappy,” she said.

He looked up. The last thing he needed was one of God’s happy band trying to tell him that Jesus wanted him for a sunbeam. But then she
had
asked, and it had been quite a while since anyone had been kind to him.

“I’ve been feeling bloody awful.”

“Oh, dear. You’ve not been watching Satanic horror movies again?”

“No. I’ve got a horrible, life-threatening infection, but everyone keeps telling me it’s just a cold. Even when I’m better I’ll still be here, in this place, where everyone hates me.”

“I don’t think they do,” said Evelyn and then stopped. Clovenhoof could see the memories of his last visit to the church parading in front of her mind.

“I can’t imagine ever being happy again,” he said.

“Listen, Jeremy. We all have days that seem black, when the world seems like a cold and friendless place. You’ve been happy in the past though.”

“Oh, yes.”

“Can you remember what it felt like?”

“Of course. There was a time when everyone would do as I said.”

“Er.”

“I could have whatever I wanted.”

“No, that doesn’t sound like genuine happiness to me. It’s much easier to be genuinely happy without power and material things.”