Clerical

Chapter Five

The sun is starting to set on this cold London afternoon. The streets surrounding Barry's flat are beginning to fill with regular people on their way home from another day at work. It's your typical busy main street.

The sight of Barry walking briskly down the street, laughing his head off like an escaped madman doesn't really turn any heads, this is London after all. He moves swiftly with no real awareness of his surroundings. All he can do is walk and laugh.

Gabriel follows not so far behind him, apologising as he pushes a swath through the crowds of workers, businessmen, and parents with schoolchildren.

With Barry being on the short side, Gabriel must poke his head up occasionally to keep his eye on where Barry is in this thicket of people. He shouts his name in concern, encouraging Barry to bring his march of laughter to an end.

Gabriel picks up the pace and follows Barry down a less busy side street, eventually catching him up.

Out of breath, Gabriel walks every so slightly behind Barry, who's still laughing his sides off.

“Barry, you have to listen to me. There's a very real danger to you.” Gabriel says sharply.

Barry keeps walking.

“Oh, mate, you know you really had me going in the flat you know. Bugger me." Barry sputters out through his laughter. "You have to 'enter me' do you? Credit where it's due, you play the long game I'll give you that one for free.”

Gabriel is visibly nervous as they walk.

“Not enter you as in… that! In a more spiritual way! Please, Barry it's not safe here.”

“Ohh of course in a spiritual way. What's that involve? A bit of Alanis Morissette on the juke box before you take me up the chuff yeah?”

Barry shakes his head, almost in tears from the laughter he cannot contain.

“Tell you what, mate, you f**k off right now, and I won't call the police about breaking into my flat and punching me in the face.”

Barry picks up speed to get away from Gabriel. Gabriel runs ahead, getting in front of Barry and standing in his way.

“They're trying to kill you, Barry! Without me, they’ll succeed, and you'll end up in some shithole squat for the rest of eternity.”

Barry pushes past him and keeps moving. Gabriel shouts on after him.

“Did they or did they not tell you that you've only got 5 days left max.”

Barry stops. He tries desperately to pretend there's another explanation for all of this. He searches hard for something, anything. But he can't find a logical explanation.

“They're playing you, Barry. They've trying to cover their mistakes. Let me help you.”

Barry turns to Gabriel.

“You're buying me a drink.”Barry proclaims.

The Old Dog pub. your classic East End windows and brass local drinking hole. The kind of place that feels a little sticky and plays Chaz and Dave on a seemingly continuous loop. It's a quiet place with only a few loyal, old, and dishevelled regulars. Some lurched over in a drunken stooper, most happy and carefree chatting with their friends.

Barry's always found a sense of calm in this place; its not like the other pubs in the area, its relaxed, low key, and not full of 'dickheads’.

Barry sits patiently at one of the circular tables in the corner while Gabriel gets some drinks. Some of the regular's spot Barry, and whisper to their conversation partners. He suspects they know that he worked at the café, and that the talk of the town will almost certainly be something regarding that. It's not everyday that this sort of incident happens, and at the very least provides these drunks something to talk about besides immigrants and football.

It isn't long before Gabriel returns from the bar with two crisp pints of lager. Barry scratches his face anxiously as he knows that bartender has a problem with people ordering lager instead of ale for some benign reason. That being what it is, Barry doesn't hesitate to take a large gulp of the drink. The cold, bitter, yet sweet taste of a sup-par European lager really takes the edge off what has been a rather trying day for him

Gabriel is not so keen. He sips his pint, turning his nose up at the taste. He pushes the full glass away from him.

“I'm not much of a drinker.” He says, still lapping at the bitterness of the drink.

Barry takes a good long drink, downing nearly half the liquid nectar in the pint glass. He burps and sighs loudly with relief.

“Good lord. That's really s**t, but bloody hell does it hit the spot.” Barry exclaims.

Gabriel rubs his hands together, looking around the little pub.

“Do they not do food in here?”

“No, they don't do food in here. This is a proper pub. They might make you a beef sandwich if you ask nicely. Or some pickled eggs or something.” Barry says while relaxing back in his chair. He looks like he's about to fall asleep.

“Never mind then. Barry, we have some things to discuss. But, first, I need you to accept who I am. My intentions are wholesome, and I bear you no ill will. I’m not a weirdo, you're not mad, this is all very real.”

Barry uses his arms to lean on the table. He looks deeply at Gabriel and see's something genuine in his eyes. He's close to trusting Gabriel, but there's something missing to get him over that final hurdle of faith. He so badly wants it to all be fake, but with everything that’s gone on, his scepticism is being put to the test. He sighs and looks away, shaking his head and giving a little chuckle.

“Do you know how mental this all seems?" Barry asks with a laugh.

“Oh, aye, of course I do. But the fact of the matter is that it is real. You went to heaven, you saw it with your very eyes.”

“Those guys were strange.”

“Oh, Harry and his little lickspittle? Set of cunts, Barry.” Gabriel laughs loudly. “I bet he lost his bleedin' mind when he figured out they'd messed up, didn't he?”

Barry laughs himself. He's much calmer than before, and with another mouthful of his drink, he remakes eye contact with Gabriel.

“Where do you play into all this? You were there, at the café, what was that about?”

Gabriel throws his hands behind his head and bites his lip.

“Everything is planned, Barry. That old saying that goes ‘everything happens for a reason’ is pretty much on the money. That bus was meant to plow into that building and you were meant to die, Barry. It was written long ago.”

“And you know that how?” Barry’s eyes narrow.

Gabriel senses the hostility and lowers his tone. “Because I was your guardian angel, before they kicked me out anyway. We're usually there in spirit to watch over and make sure it all goes down how it should. But, since I live on earth, I thought I’d be there in person. I said I’d see you again, because, I thought I'd be going with you.” Gabriel takes a long pause, his eyes well up a little. “But they screwed me. Just like they screwed you with their little error.”

Barry finishes his pint off.

“That sounds bonkers.” Barry says bluntly.

“Yes, it is. It wasn't an accident Barry. These people are sly, they stop people from coming to heaven to make way for others that don't deserve it. They'll probably end up switching your file with someone else's to do that. They're corrupt, and I want us to work together to give it back to them as good as we can.”

Barry reaches over and grabs the remainder of Gabriel's pint. He gobbles it down his gullet like a drainpipe. He wipes his mouth.

“So you're telling me, that there's some sort of criminal conspiracy in heaven to do some shady s**t and they've deliberately messed about with my file to make sure I'm killed at a different time? Is that it put succinctly?”

“…Yes.”

“Why?”

“Greed, money, whatever the motivation I’ve caught them doing it before! It needs to be exposed, but to do that I have to help you!” Gabriel says loudly and forcefully. “You have to let me come inside you, Barry!”

The patrons of the pub turn to look at the pair. Barry notices all eyes on them, his rosy cheeks showing his embarrassment. One man in the corner raises his glass to them and smiles. Gabriel lowers his voice.

“The HAT score thing, it's very real, but anyone under a certain level doesn’t really flash up on the system. We get yours high enough, they can’t screw you over, you get into the inner circle of heaven, not in some shitty little apartment either.” He whispers.

Barry stands up.

“I need the toilet.”

He walks away in the direction of the toilets. He moves past the old men and women drinking, who keep their eye on him, muttering something under their breaths as he passes by.

As he enters the toilets, Barry's mind is on the decision in front of him. He's never really had to make any big decisions in his life, his childhood was fairly standard, and his flat has been in his possession since his dad died 15 years ago. Now, with the possibility of an angelic conspiracy at his front door, he knows he may have to take some responsibility.

He's finding it hard to pee as he overthinks about what's to come. Where will this whole thing take him? He wonders. It could, and most likely is, complete bull s**t on the part of Gabriel, for all he knows he could be looking to scam him or something.

The pee finally comes out, and he quickly finishes up and leaves the toilets without washing his hands in the filthy sink.

He makes his way back to the table where Gabriel is patiently waiting, but he doesn’t sit down.

“I'm sorry, Gabriel.” Barry says ashamedly.

As Barry moves to walk away, Gabriel springs to his feet in desperation.

“They'll kill you, Barry!” Gabriel shouts. All eyes are back on the pair.

“I'll take my chances, thanks.”

Barry walks out the front door. Gabriel follows quickly behind.

Outside Barry once again moves quickly away. It's now dark, without a cloud in the sky, it's a beautifully crisp night.

Gabriel runs to him and stops Barry in his tracks.

“Please, Barry, you have to listen. I can protect you. We can- We can do this together.”

Before Barry can answer a bolt of lightning comes from nowhere and strikes a flowerpot on the window ledge where the pair stand. The pot tumbles off its perch and tumbles towards Barry's head at an incredible pace. Thankfully, Gabriel pounces into action, pushing Barry out of the way, only just escaping the deadly pottery missile as it explodes on the floor.

Barry stares at it, completely stunned and wide eyed.

“There's- no rain clouds.” He stutters.

Gabriel gets to his feet, and dusts himself off. He extends his hand to the floored Barry.

“I can save you, Barry. All you have to do is trust me.”

Barry takes a long hard few seconds to think. The shock of the event still fresh.

Eventually he reaches out to Gabriel's outstretched arm and grabs his hand.