Prologue

The Beginning - The Phone Call

I stepped out of the shower with my towel wrapped around me, my hair dripping wet and the water falling onto the floor. The flat was empty, just the sound of the television making it known that the flat wasn’t empty. Walking into the bedroom I wrapped the towel around my head and put on my lilac night dress on, barely reaching my knees. The living room was only a hallway apart from the bedroom so I could hear the news as clearly as I needed to. A lady talking about the new eco-friendly lifestyles filled the rooms, her voice strained and her struggle to appear excited and happy clearly showing. Soon it was followed by the weather, and as usual it was a total lie. There had been no sun for three weeks. Rain, rain and rain. But apparently a mini heat wave was to occur soon and for everyone to be prepared. And now, sitting next to me is Sophie Day, a woman who has lost her husband to… as she says, an ‘angel’.

I chuckled, walking into the room and lounging on the couch. Something about people coming up with crazy stories was particularly interesting. I turned the volume up and relaxed, looking at the screen to see an old looking woman with a few wrinkles and a mix of brown and grey hair. She looked distressed, her hand repeatedly tapping on her wedding ring finger.

So, Sophie, you’ve told us that an angel came into your husband’s room and made him unwell.

This wasn’t the only story like this. There had been a few stories about angels in the hospital, good and bad. However, the bad stories had a bigger popularity with the news and magazines. With the ‘good angels’ there had been no need for a story, they had got better like most patients. It was only the moderately famous people who had been given a slot in the newspapers, just to say ‘thanks’ and ‘kind regards’ to the angels who helped their friend or relative get better.

Yes, Sophie answered. Her voice shook, like mine whenever Toby would enter the flat after slamming the door. A slammed door was never good with Toby. It would usually result in a few broken plates or glasses. His favourite thing to smash would be one of my paintings. My thoughts were that maybe he felt like he was hurting me in doing so, so we could both suffer together. After the first few I had learned my lesson, so I ended up just buying cheap unwanted paintings that would look better with a bit of edge. It wasn’t his fault though. Six months ago his mother had breast cancer and died, and he never fully got over that. Adding to that, two months ago his company had money problems and since then he’s been worried about paying his staff, paying the bills and being able to stay in the flat and eating properly. Nothing I could say would satisfy him, but I’ve always thought that he would be a wreck if there was no one to, at least try and make him feel better.

Her whimpers flooded my ears as she tried to recall what she saw. A dark, mystifying angel who snarled a lot. Right.

The living room was a relaxing shade of turquoise, something I thought would help Toby calm down even if it was just unconsciously. At least I was trying, I’d tell myself. I went for a modern look. There were white leather sofas in a semi circle shape and opposite the television stood in front of the wall next to the window showing us the Eiffel tower and a few impressively structured flats and hotels, especially at night. With the mirrors hanging around somewhere in every room, it looked spacious and homey compared to some of the other flats people owned. This one was more like a suite in a five star hotel. There weren’t any spare rooms to put unwanted items in but it didn’t matter. We had enough.

“And one day I came back from the canteen and he was… he was dead. Laurence wasn’t there anymore and that’s when I put two and two together.”

“Laurence, was that the angels name?”

“Yes. And if anyone else meets an angel called Laurence, don’t trust him!” She gasped, unable to escape the tears flooding down and falling from her cheeks. “He’s bad  news and will only hurt the people you love.”

I could see the presenter trying desperately to hide her smug grin from the cameras. Like the camera man could sense it too, he stayed focused on Sophie, who was now sobbing into her sleeve and muttering things to quiet for me to hear even with the volume turned up high. A few seconds passed and the camera finally went back to the presenter.

“Please join us after the break where we next discuss the advantages of living outdoors.”

The theme music came on shortly followed by adverts. With my hair still wet I turned towards my bedroom to dry it further, not giving too much attention to the big ring of water left on the chair.

The phone jolted me and I jumped. I hurried back into the living room to pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Is this Riley Meadows?”

“Yes it is. Who is this?”

“It’s the hospital.”

I stepped back subconsciously. The room suddenly turned from a relaxing turquoise to a worrying and panicking blue and green. The air around me felt colder, the hairs on my bare legs and arms on edge.

The voice carried on, regardless of my silent terror and deep breaths. “We found your number in Toby Collins wallet. You are his partner?”

“Yes.”

Part of me wanted him to skip all the explaining but another part didn’t. What if he was dead? Or what if he just went to get a check up and he needed a ride home?

“I’m afraid there’s no easy way to say this,” he paused, “but Toby has had an overdose and is unconscious. He went into a coma just a few minutes ago and we thought you’d want to come and be with him. We don’t know what the outcome is going to be, so you need to be prepared for anything.”

I gasped, like the lady on the news. However, my tears weren’t ready to come out yet and instead my hands just clung to the nearest table, my fingers wrapped around the curve. “When did he come in?”

There was a knock on the other line. It sounded like a clipboard being carried.

“He came just a couple of hours ago. Around three o’clock.”

I nodded before muttering so he knew I was listening.

“Also Mrs Meadows, we need to get his personal details written down so we know if he may be allergic to anything. Do you think it would be possible to come down?”

“Of course.”

Not caring for the goodbyes, I slammed the phone down and raced towards my room to get changed. The blood had drained from my face as i expected the worst.

Author's Note

I've focused more on description, and this is the prologue so i need to set the scene and get it out the way for the plot. Tell me what you think :)

Reviews

[Louisa.Warren.]

Funnily enough, it's about all three :P

[A.C. Flanagan]

its interesting, but its hard to tell what its all about. Is it going to be about the angel of death, or about a dysfunctional relationship, or just following this girl. with that said, it peeked my interest.