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“Do you have anything to say, Marty?” George asked.

“I was protecting her.
I am her guardian angel.”

“Protecting her from what? Her destiny?
You should
have seen the danger.
That trick with the knife c
ould have exposed what you are.
Do you remember the last time an angel was caught?”

I interrupted, “Ben wasn’t my destiny – I didn’t like him that way.”

“Yo
u shouldn’t have had an option.
If a guardian angel directs you to someone, it is where you are meant to
be.” T
his time, a different angel spoke.

“What about free will?” I asked.

“If we’d left you to your own free will
, you’d have been an alcoholic.
You needed guidance.” The angel’s words cut like a knife.

“Then Marty saved me in more ways than I knew.”

“Shall we see some more?” George soun
ded like he was enjoying this.
He turned to the screen and transmit
ted more images from his eyes. The pub car park. Marty holding me, whispering.
Me passing out,
and him carrying me home.
The montage continued to f
ootage that was new to my eyes.
Ma
rty carrying me up the stairs.
Marty breathing in the scent of my ha
ir as he lifted me onto my bed.
Marty gently removing my shoes.
Marty unpeeling my handbag from my grip and p
lacing it on the bedside table. Tucking me into bed.
A
lingering kiss on my forehead.
Marty holding his head in his hands
, every inch the tortured soul.
I shuddered, thinking o
f the heartache I’d caused him.
Him writing a letter to me, folding it in half and kissing it, as he laid it on the pillow next to me.

“You could see in my house?” I gasped and turned to Marty, “didn’t you say angels wouldn’t spy in the house?”

“Lovers’ tiff?” George interjected sarcastically.

Marty ignored him and st
ared into my eyes. “I didn’t think they would. I’m so sorry.
This is all my fault.”

“Yes it is,” another female angel contributed to the discussion, “you should have left
when you realised how you felt.
You shouldn’t have dragged the poor girl into it.”

“Sally, I suspect
she was a willing accomplice.
If anything, she pulled him in deeper.” George’s voice stabbed in the air and he turned to the clouds to show a
nother scene from our romance.
Us,
sitting at the kitchen table.
Marty and I exchanging gifts.  Him placi
ng the necklace around my neck. The almost-kiss.
“It doesn’t look to me like she’s being forced into anything.”

“I wasn’t. I fell in love.
With a wonderful man – surely that’s not a crime.” I was pleading now, seeing them debating the issue amongst themselves gave me a glimmer of hope that I might be able to persuade them to let Marty stay with me.

“He’s not a man.” George said the words
as though they were a victory.
He turned back to the screen of clouds, showing images of my arrival back from the cinema with Ben, of Marty explaining that he had broke
n the only rule he had to keep.
George turned back to me, “he told you outright
that you weren’t meant for him.
And you still pursued him.”

“She’s not the one at fault.
I am.” Marty, still defe
nding me now, after everything.
Still my hero.

“Marty, we saw you trying to
explain that you weren’t human.
She knew something was different about you and still she threw herself at you.” George’s eyes projected a different vision – the dark hallway, our bodies in silhouette against the storm-ridden background, pressed up together, he
at scorching out of the image.
I could see my hands, just shadows in the image, reaching for him a
nd his hands pushing mine away.
His silhouette walked away, leaving m
ine to crash to the floor.
The memory of the
scene still ripped me inside.

“She didn’t know I was an angel then and I walked away, no harm was done.” Marty’s voice was flooded with emotion.

“So, did it end when she found out what you are?” George knew the answer and produced
images to justify his opinion.
Me, pressing myself against Marty, discussing the
costume for ‘
Starlet
’
, Marty and I sharing a bed, the scene from the day before – where our emotio
ns were getting out of control.
“No, she still tried to lead you into temptation.”

“You can’t blame him for my
mistakes.”
My cheeks were burning with the shame of seeing my own actions replayed in front of an audience of angels, but I had the overwhelming sense that Marty and I had done nothing wrong.

“Claudia,” Olivia, whom I had decided was the most compassionate angel to our situation, spoke up, “we realise that to you, as a human, it is a struggle to see what is wrong wit
h you and Marty being in love.
To us, it is a big problem, which is why we have called you both here.”

“How did you summon me?
Marty said you could only talk to me if I fainted – I cou
ldn’t be forced to come here.”
My inqui
sitive nature overtook my fear.
I trusted Olivia, after all, she had defended me
from some of George’s vitriol.

She smiled.
“You are the first human we h
ave ever successfully summoned.
We aren’t sure
why.
My personal suspicion is that it worked because you are so aware of the workings of the angel mind – hence, Marty’s powe
rs have stopped working on you.
You have to understand, we are just as curious about you as you are about us.”

“Curious?” George all but snarled at me. “She hasn’t e
ven asked what the Dominion is.
She shows no respect.”

“George, are y
ou showing Claudia any respect?
Can’t you understand how scary this is for her?” Marty’s voice was
getting angrier by the second.
He hadn’t let go of me since this had started.

“Claudia,” Olivia said, “perhaps I d
idn’t explain at the beginning.
The Dominion is the name for a group of special ang
els, elite angels, if you like.
We’ve served for a long time and our job is to monitor the behaviour of other ange
ls; to pick up on any problems.
I wonder, now, if we should have stepped in earlier to rectify this issue.”

“Why did you leave it so long?
You knew Marty ha
d fallen for me before I did.”

Behind my ear, I heard Marty sigh and, to my surprise, he answered. “Because I
was meant to be joining them.
After being your guardian angel, I was meant to become one of the Dominion.”

Olivia
smiled a pitying smile at him.
“We hoped you’d have
enough experience to walk away.
We were so hopeful when you conta
cted Alfie.
We so wanted you to do the right thing.”

“He is a disgrace to our name.”
George apparently had enough venom for both me and Marty to share equally.

“What will happen to Marty now?” I’d realised there wasn’t any hope of him being allowed to st
ay with me.
I just wanted him to be safe.

“He should be cast into hel
l.” George’s anger was intense.
I gasped and felt Marty shudder behind me.

“He will suffer no such punishment.” Olivia’s voice had a finality to it and her gaze wilted George’s determination to cas
t the love of my life to hell.
He visibly shrank back an
d nodded in agreement with her.
“He will be demoted, of course.
He cannot be
trusted to guard a human again.
H
is emotions are uncontrollable.
However, he has worked closely with the dying for many years, easing their suffering and he
lping their transition to here.
He will be transferred to the greeting team, welcoming those souls who have recently passed over.”

I felt Marty nod at her.
“Thank
you, it’s more than I deserve.
What abou
t Claudia?
Will she still have our protection?”

Olivia sighed.
“We cannot offer that anymore.  She has forfeited
her right to a guardian angel. I wish we could assist more.
Marty, you will have until midnight to rectify the mis
takes you have left down there.
Wipe their minds of your ability to fly, sort out the vacancy you will be leaving at the hospice and tidy up any other loose ends.”

“Does he have to wipe my mind?” I couldn’t believe this was the way it was going to end.

“It’ll make things easier for you to move on,” Olivia said with compassion, making me feel even worse.

“Please,” I begged, “leave me with my memories of him.”

“As you wish.
Remember to l
ook away when he tells you to.
I wish we could have met
under happier circumstances.”
She came forward to shake my hand.

“So do I,” I murmured.

Marty and I started to sink back down to Earth.

Chapter 15

He pulled me close.
He start
ed speaking quickly in my ear.
“When we get back down, everything will go back to the usual speed, it’s l
ike it is paused at the moment.
I’m going to alter the minds of everyone
in the room, all at one moment.
If you want to remember everything about me, it is vital that you do not have your eyes open when I do that.”

We were still drifting back to Earth, like
snowflakes dancing in a breeze.
“How does it work?” I asked.

“Do you remember how I explained wiping the names from your
memory?” He asked and I nodded.
He continued: “It’s the sam
e principle, on a larger scale.
It will look similar to how George projected the images.”

“And I just have to close my eyes
and I’ll remember everything?”
I was desperate not to
lose the memories I had of him.
In spite of everything, I wouldn’t have changed a thing about our time together.

“Yes,
I promise.
Claudia, I’m sorry we couldn’t have had our happy ending.”

“Shhhh,” I
whispered, “it doesn’t matter.
A few weeks with you
was worth risking everything.”
We were nearing the roof of the theatre a
nd our journey was nearly over.
We passed through the roof, into the building and down to the stage, where we were reabsorbed by our bodies.

Screams, muffled in my disoriented ears, were the first thing to a
lert me to the passing of time.
My eyelids fluttered open and I saw Marty, eyes wide open staring at me.

“Are you OK?” Marty whispered. I nodded.
“Close your eyes.”

I did as he told me, putting my arm across my
face to further protect myself.
I heard a collective gasp from the other people in the room and
felt a warm glow on my hands.
Then it was over and Marty was gently pulling my arms away from my face.

“Claudia, it’s OK, l
ook at me. You’re safe.
You were lucky I was standing on the edge of the stage ready to prompt you, any further away and I wouldn’t have been able to pull you out of the way in time.” He was saying the words for my benefit, so I would know the cover stor
y.
Nobody else would remember that he fl
ew from the balcony to save me.
I could hear the rushing movements of people co
ming to help, calling my name.

Donna was one of the first to reach us, genuine concern in her face. I was almost more shocked by her anxiety than I was by
the light nearly falling on me.
The theatre technician was right behind her.

“Claudia, are you OK?” Donna was shrieking and tears had streaked down her face.

I swallowed.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Don’t move, you might have a neck injury.” She looked white with fear.

“I didn’t hurt my neck, Marty broke my fall and the light didn’t hit me.”

Marty had already stood up and was holding out his hand to help me up. Momentarily, I thought I saw whispers of a silver mist on the floor, but when I lo
oked closer it was gone.
I was seeing things from stress and instantly tried to relax myself, desperate to av
oid raising any more attention.
I just wanted to be alone wi
th Marty, time was running out.
Donna pulled herself together and addressed everyone else.

“Rehearsal is over. Everyone out.” Then she hissed to the theatre te
chnician, “How did this happen?
You n
early killed our leading lady!
I’m going to the Dean; this shoddy work was a lawsuit waiting to happen.”

“I’m taking Claudia home.” Marty grabbed me round the waist and ushered me off of the stage.

“I need my han
dbag. It’s up in the balcony.”
I felt wobbly now that we’d moved.

“I’ll run up and get it.”

“No, don’t leave
me alone, I’ll come with you.”
I didn’t want to spend a moment without hi
m. I only had until midnight.
Like something out of a fairytale, the magic that had kept my handsome prince here was running out at midnight.

“Come on, then.” He held my hand and led me up the stairs.

I cleared my throat. “Marty?”

“I’m listening.”

“Now that they know, I have something to say to you.” I pulled on his arm, forcing him to st
op in the middle of the stairs.
He faced me, walking down a step, so tha
t his face was level with mine.
I w
rapped my arms around his neck.
“I love you.”

He smiled, then pulled me cl
ose for an urgent, hungry kiss. “I love you, too.
You were worth everything.”

“Let’s get home,” I whispered and he led me gently into the balcony to collect
my possessions.

As we left the theatre, a light dusting of snow had settled on the ground, as though the world had b
een sprinkled with icing sugar.
A handful of snowflakes wafted down from the sky and the early evening had
taken on a magical appearance.
I was reminded of the snow globes I had collected as a child – this must be how i
t felt to be trapped in one.
I wished that we were in a little bubble, impervious to the outside influences
that were soon to rip us apart.
Marty pulled me close to him and ble
ssed my cheek with a soft kiss.
Instinctively, I went to pull away from his tender touch; a habit we’d had to endure to hide our love.

“We don’t have to pretend anymore,” he whispered in my ear.

I moved my lips to his, and savoured the feel of his kiss, wanting nothing but to
stay safe in his arms forever.
A distant rumble of thun
der echoed around us.
Marty put his arm around me and we walked in perfect sy
nchronisation towards our home.
Anyone who would have seen us would have thought we made the perfect couple, an exampl
e of two souls clearly in love.
Nobody would have guessed that our love story would end at midnight.

I tried to be brave, not wasting any time we had left by feeling upset, but every s
econd seemed to slip by faster.
I glanced behind me at our footprints in the snow, two peo
ple headed on the same journey.
I couldn’t believe that our union, something that felt so natural, so right, was forbidden by the angels.

We lingered on our way home, watching the snow fall and staring at the st
ars in the sky.
After weeks of having to rush home to avoid watchful eyes – an act that had proved to be useless – it was a revelation to be able to wander about, strolling hand in hand and enjoying stolen kisses.

All too soon, we were back at our house. The hallway, once the scene of heated desire, now felt like a pressure cooker, the echoing of the grandfather clock ticking away every second relentlessly; reminding us, with every sound, that our time together was running out and not
hing we could do would stop it.
I felt like my heart was breaking with every beat.

Marty needed to ring the hospice, to explain w
hy he would no longer be there.
I listened to his phone call, biting my lip to try to stop the tears that were thre
atening to spill from my eyes.

“Hello, it’s Dr Glean, could I please speak to Dr Alexander.” There was a pause as his call was transferred. “
Dr Alexander? It’s Marty Glean. I feel terrible for this.
I’m very sorry to do this at such short notice, but I will not be avai
lable to work for you anymore.”
He sounded
so clinical about it, so cold.
I looked at his face and it revealed the struggle he was having to stay composed. “I’ve been called to urgent business, far afield.” Really far a
field, I thought sarcastically.
Then I had an idea,
a tiny spark of a possibility.
I pulled on the hem of Marty’s jumper to get hi
s attention.
“Could you please hold on for a moment?” he said to Dr Alexander.

“Marty, could you ask if
I can volunteer at the hospice?
If I could go in and sit with the l
onely people who are suffering?
See them off, like you do…did.” I corrected my tense and felt a so
litary tear escape from my eye.
He leant his head to one side and wiped my tear away from my face.

“Why would you want to do that?
It’s soul destroying work, emotionally draining.”

“It’ll b
e my only way to link with you.
I’d be with them at the end down here; you’d be w
ith them at the start up there.
That way, you’ll
know I’m still thinking of you.
I know they can’t know, and I woul
dn’t want to use them that way.
I just want to keep some of your kindness here.” I held my chest where my
heart was.

“No.”

I couldn’t
believe he’d deny me anything. I was stunned for a second.
“Why not?” I choked the words out.

“You won’t be able to move on if you’re still trying to stay connected to me.”

I practically spat out my words. “I don’t want to
move on.
I want to stay connected to you.”

“I know you do,” Marty sounded like he was talking to a child, “but, darling, w
e can’t have what we both want.
I need you to move on with your life. Forget about me.”

“Do you honestly think I could do that?” I was appalled by the idea.

“I’d like you to try.” He resumed his phone call. “Sorry, I could forward a list of suitab
le replacements for my vacancy.
I know they are available immediately and they are all just as quali
fied, if not more so, than me.
I am, again,
so sorry for letting you down.”
He looked at me momentarily,
his eyes flashing with regret. “Goodbye.” He ended his call.
There was no
thing to say for a few moments.
The clock in the hall continued its incessant countdown of seconds, each tick sounding like the hammering of nails in a coffin.

I took a deep breath.
“Will you?” I asked.

“Will I what?”

“Forget about me?” I held m
y breath, afraid of his answer.
In an instant, he was at my side, holding me against his body, caressing my back, stroking my hair.

“Never.”

“Then how can you ask me to forget about you?”

“Because I can’t bea
r to watch you waste your life.
I won’t be able to com
e back, as much as I’d love to.
You can’t pin your hopes on us.
We’re null
and void from midnight tonight.
Our
story isn’t going to happen.”
He kissed the top of my head.

I lifted my face up to his.
“Will you be moving on?”

He gave me a bittersweet sm
ile and shook his head, slowly.
“No.”

“Don’t you realise that this is as life changing for me, as it has been for you?”

He sighed. “Those words make me so
happy and so sad all at once.
I’m so amazed that you could feel so strongly for me and so distraught that I have altered the course of your life so catastrophically.”

“The only catastrophe here is that we can’t b
e together.
Loving you was never a mistake.” I punctuated my
statement by kissing his lips.
He reciprocated and our discussion was put on hold for a few seconds.

“Claudia, I can’t bear to think of you going through the rest of your life not feeling this
way about someone.
Please, you have to try.”

My bravado was slipping.
I’d lost the battle and the reality of saying goodby
e to him, forever, was looming.
“I don’t kn
ow how I’ll live without you.”

“You will.
You lost your parents, you were devastated, yet you survived.” He gave me the tiniest hint of a self-deprecating smile and continued: “Losing me will be nothing compared to what you’ve already been through.”

He was r
ight, in part.
The untimely death of my parents had plunged me into a pit of despair, from which
I never thought I would escape.
There had been times when I’d thought death would have been a better option
than carrying on without them.
Remembering that time, the lowest point of my life, when I’d begun planning on joining my parents in death, plante
d a seed of an idea in my head.
I knew, before I discussed it with him, that he would never agree to it.

“Marty…you know you will be meeting people as they arrive up there…what would happen if I turned up?” The words were just a whisper in the silent house.

His face was horrified.
He looked furious and I s
tarted to shrink away from him.
He held my face in both h
is hands, staring into my eyes.
“Y
ou are never to think that way.
Never.”

I risked further fury with my next question. “Would we be able to be together?”

He shook his head, disbelief etched across his beautiful features. “You really would do anything for me, wouldn’t you?”

I nodded, unable to speak.

“Then, stay alive.”

I was beaten.
I
couldn’t go against his wishes.
“You’ll be watching me?”

A ghost of a smi
le danced on his lips. “I will.
I don’t think I could bear not to watch over you.”

I let my tears speak for me.
I wish
ed I could do the same for him.
To not know anything
about him would be unbearable.
“Is there anyway for you
to let me know that you’re OK?
You’ll be watching me but I’ll have no way to know how you are.”