“But isn’t there anywhere else you’d like to go? Any old familymembers you’d like to visit, old friends you’d like to see?”
All Kent was interested in right now was the money. “No, what’sthe point? There’s no point living in the past, is there? Look to the futureand all that. Mine’s looking pretty rosy, but then I expect you know that already.”
“Well, just in case you change your mind, I’ll be back here atthe same time tomorrow,” said the angel.
“Sure, whatever,” replied Kent, in a blasé and dismissivemanner. “Catch you later.”
“Oh you certainly will,” was the angel’s final commentbefore vanishing.
Kent headed for the lifts and the long walk home. It waswindy on top of the car park and starting to rain, the chill of the Novemberwind slicing into his old and inadequate jacket. Never mind, he could buy himselfa new one now. He quite fancied one of those big sheepskin coats, the kind thatthe football commentators used to wear on Match of the Day.
He remembered his earlier thought about where home might or mightnot be and pulled out his wallet. Checking his driving licence, he wassemi-relieved to see that his address hadn’t changed. They must have paid the mortgageoff and stayed put, then. That was fair enough; perhaps they had decided toenjoy the money rather than tying it all up in property. He just hoped he hadn’tfoolishly blown the whole lot in the intervening years. He wasn’t going to getany enjoyment out of it now if that was the case.
He walked out of the town centre with a spring in his step, despitethe rain which was now starting to lash down around him. By the time he gotback to the house he was soaked.
“Doesn’t look any different,” he remarked out loud. Debs’sold Peugeot 206 was still on the drive in its usual place. That was odd. He wouldhave thought she might have got herself a better car with his little windfall.He certainly wouldn’t have denied her if she had asked. She almost certainly wouldhave done. She was always saying she wanted a new car. They had bought the Peugeotbrand new in 2003 but now it was getting near the end of its life.
The lights were on in the house, giving Kent a sense of déjàvu. It was a feeling he was becoming extremely familiar with thanks to hisrecent activities. Here, everything was exactly as it had been the previousevening other than the weather. Tonight it was wet and windy instead of crispand cold.
He turned the key in the lock, opened the front door andwent straight through to the kitchen. Reliable as ever, Debs was there slicingsome onions.
“Hey, babe,” he said. “How’s it going?”
If he was expecting a similar reaction to his use of thisterm of endearment to that of the previous evening, he was about to be sorely disappointed.
“Don’t you babe me!” she snapped. “Where have you been? Yousaid you were going out to get a paper and you’ve been gone two hours. Not inthat pub, I hope? I am not having you turning into one of those blokes whopisses his redundancy money up against the wall.”
So, they had still made him redundant, then. It seemed his heroicsin foiling the robbery had counted for nothing in the long run. And he said asmuch out loud.
“I still can’t believe they kicked me out, not after the serviceI’ve given them over the years. What about when I caught that gang from robbingthe betting shop practically single-handed? I should have got a medal for that.”
Maybe he had. He wouldn’t know. “I didn’t get one, did I?”he asked Debs, with a hopeful look.
Debs was looking at him with a perplexed look on her face.
“What in the name of bloody hell are you talking about?” sheasked.
“You know, you must remember. Five years ago, on Grand NationalDay, the armed raid on the betting shop. We caught the lot of them.”
“You have been in that pub, haven’t you? Either that or you’relosing your mind. You never caught those robbers. When did you ever catchanyone? I don’t wonder they kicked you out. You’re no bloody use to man orbeast.”
She was getting annoyed and was starting to get at him, justlike she always did. The brief renaissance in their relationship the previousevening was well and truly over. She was right back to nagging fishwife modenow.
This was all wrong. Why hadn’t her memories been changed? Andcome to think of it, what had happened to the money? He took a good look aroundthe room. There was absolutely no evidence of any newfound wealth here, just asthere hadn’t been outside the house.
“What about the bet on Auroras Encore, then?” he said. Hewas already beginning to anticipate the response. A sense of impending doom waswashing over him. Something had gone seriously wrong here and her reply merelyconfirmed his suspicions.
“Oh don’t start going on about that again,” she said. “I’msick of hearing about it. How you were going to bet on it, but forgot becauseyou got distracted by the robbery. I’ve heard it all before, Richard. It’s justyet another of your sorry ‘woe is me’ tales.”
This was all a load of crap, then. The angel had beenplaying with his mind. That’s if the angel even existed. Maybe Debs was rightand he really was losing his mind. Had he simply been hallucinating all ofthis? It had all seemed so real. But as real as it might have seemed to him,clearly it hadn’t been real for Debs. From her perspective, nothing hadchanged.
He was willing to bet that if he went up into the attic todig out his old records, he wouldn’t find “What Difference Does It Make?” upthere either.
What he certainly didn’t need right now was a row with Debs.The disappointment at discovering all his plans had come to nought was onething, but having her haranguing him was only going to rub salt in the wounds. Therewas only one thing that was going to cheer him up
