Work Text:
Anthony only realised that the pot of complimentary breadsticks was empty when his fingers closed around thin air. He had been perusing the Eden Garden menu for the umpteenth time, blindly eating, whilst he waited for his date to arrive. He had been coerced into it by his colleagues who all said he needed something to go home to. A-friend-of-a-friend or something or other. Not to mention giving him the hard sell, “he loves reading”, “he loves gardening”, “he hates social media”, “he’s perfect for you.”
Anthony had been waiting for his perfect-for-him man for an hour – well, two; he had arrived an hour early for fear of being late and to suss out the menu.
No calls to say they were running late or in an accident. Perhaps they had arrived, taken one look at him, and left as fast as they could. Or maybe they’d had no intension of coming at all – that it was all a cruel joke just to see if Professor Anthony Crowley could break his predictable, monotonous routine and go out, for once.
The restaurant was hardly full, but at every occupied table there were couples – first dates, blind dates who had shown up, Friday night dinner, anniversaries, and judging by the way they were gazing into each other’s eyes, all deeply in love. Anthony envied them. Despite his solitary existence, his still yearned for companionship.
‘Are we ready to order?’ asked the waitress, Muriel, more politely than the last waiter, Eric, who had wordlessly tried to collect up the dining ware across the table.
‘Hm?’ Anthony looked up. ‘Oh, sorry. Um. I’m afraid not. My… date still hasn’t arrived.’ He checked his watch. ‘And I’m still working out how much longer to give it before I call it a day and leave.’
‘Well, if I were you, I wouldn’t stay longer than twenty minutes.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘Because the barmen are betting how long before you give up and go home.’
Anthony glanced at the bar in time to see the two sneering men in question look away and pretend to polish glasses. ‘Right,’ he said heavily.
‘I’m sorry, I had to say something. They always do this; profit off people’s misery.’
‘Then I guess all three of us will be going home disappointed tonight.’
‘Can I get you something to go? Angel cake? On the house?’
Anthony smiled weakly. ‘Thank you. That’s really nice of you.’
Muriel smiled brightly. ‘I’ll be right back.’
Bobbing in a brief curtsy, Muriel bustled off and disappeared into the kitchens to get the dessert for one. Anthony sighed and took his glasses to rub his eyes wearily.
‘Crowley?’
Anthony opened his eyes and put his glasses back on, the better to see the softly spoken person who had just addressed him. A middle-aged, well-proportioned man around Anthony’s age came into focus, staring at him intently. He had golden wavy blonde hair and the brightest, bluest eyes he had ever seen. Both stood out starkly against his slightly pale skin. He was wearing a deep yellow vest over a shabby beige shirt. To the beastly bartenders, he would’ve looked like an overweight, pasty, forty-year-old-virgin booby prize to them. But to Anthony, he was an angel sent down from heaven.
‘Um… hello,’ said the man, fiddling with his pinky ring nervously.
‘Hi,’ whispered Anthony, slightly punch-drunk. He snapped himself awake. ‘Hi! Yes! Sorry!’ He jumped to his feet the same way gentleman always did in regency dramas, grinning like an idiot. ‘Wow. I’m so happy to see you.’
The man blinked in surprise. ‘You – you are?’
‘Yes. I was just about to give up hope. Sorry. I just didn’t expect – I wasn’t expecting someone like you.’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘You know, someone so…’
The man waited, looking intrigued and slightly worried about the end of that sentence.
‘…gorgeous,’ said Anthony.
The angel before him blushed, but was flattered and delighted by the word, seeming to light up from within. He looked tired, poor soul. He had shadows under his eyes.
‘Oh! I’m sorry, I’m so rude! Please, do sit down.’
Anthony pulled out the chair opposite him and the man sat down.
‘Thank you. That’s very kind of you.’
Anthony sat back in his seat. ‘I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t look much like a Brian.’
‘Oh. No, I’m… my name’s not Brian. It’s Fell. Asa Fell, with an “s.”’
‘Ah. So… you’re not the person I’m supposed to meet? My blind date?’
Asa shook his head. ‘I’m afraid not. I – I saw you from over there,’ he pointed behind him, ‘and I had to come over and – Oh no! I am disturbing you. You’re waiting for someone –’
‘No, no, it’s fine. He didn’t… It just wasn’t meant to be.’
‘Oh no. I’m so sorry.’
Anthony shrugged. ‘It happens. Some people are just meant to be alone.’
‘No one’s meant to be alone, Crowley. Least of all you.’
‘So, how do you know my name?’
Asa looked slightly awkward. ‘Well… if I told you, you’ll think I’m crazy.’
‘No, I won’t.’
‘Crowley –’ Asa impulsively reached across the table and took both of Anthony’s hands in his. ‘Do you believe in soulmates? Do you believe two people can be connected? That you can meet for the first time and feel as though you’ve known them all your life? That you could look at them and it’s like you’ve found everything you’ve been searching for, without realising you were looking for it? That they complete you?’
Anthony looked down at their clasped hands, feeling electricity pass through them. ‘I think… I never used to, but… I suppose…’
Asa looked as though he was in agony. ‘You don’t remember me?’
‘Should I?’
Anthony met those blue eyes again and felt like he could gaze at them forever, like they were stars in his telescope. He felt something stir in the depths of his soul.
‘Do I?’ he said.
‘Asa!’
Anthony and Asa both jumped, releasing each other’s hands, as a tall woman slapped a claw-like hand on Asa’s shoulder. She had a name tag clipped to her blazer “Michael” next to a picture of the Red Queen.
‘Are you bothering this man? I do apologise, sir –’
‘No, no, no. You don’t understand, Dr Michael –’ said Asa hastily.
‘Doctor?’ said Anthony.
‘We know each other – I know him – we’re friends –’
‘He must have slipped away from our group,’ said Michael with an unconvincing caring tone as she tried to drag Asa to his feet. ‘Nurse Maggie was meant to be supervising this lost duckling.’
‘Nurse? Sorry, what’s going on? What happening?’ said Anthony, standing up too.
‘I can explain –’ began Asa.
‘The minibus is waiting to take us all home, Asa. You don’t want to make everyone late for paint class, do you?’
‘Well – well, no. But please. We’re just in the middle of a conversation. If I could just – Ouch!’
Michael’s fingernails dug deep into Asa’s arm as she started to pull him to the exit.
‘Hey! There’s no need for that!’ said Anthony angrily. ‘Asa?’
‘Please, Crowley –’ Asa reached out and took Anthony’s hand again. ‘Everything that I said… I meant it.’
‘Good day, Mr Crowley,’ said Michael.
‘Professor,’ corrected Anthony, though she had already half leading, half dragging Asa away from the table.
‘Be grateful it wasn’t Mr Needle,’ she hissed at her charge. ‘Though I still haven’t ruled it out.’
But all Asa could do was looking pleadingly over his shoulder at Anthony as he was escorted out of the restaurant. Anthony watched on helplessly, completely baffled.
‘One angel cake to go,’ announced Muriel, appearing at his side with a recycle bag depicting the Garden of Eden.
But the only angel good enough to eat had already gone out the door. Anthony grabbed his satchel and hurried after them, leaving the waitress standing there holding the dessert.
Outside in the daylight Anthony saw Asa being manoeuvred onto a minibus with the rest of the day-outing party he was with. Asa spotted Anthony and raised his hand in feeble apologetic goodbye. Anthony responded with a “what’s going on?” gesture with his own hand. Looking ashamed and embarrassed, and a little disappointed, a teary-eyed Asa ducked inside the minibus without protest and took his seat next to a blonde woman in a nurse’s uniform.
When the door was rolled shut, Anthony saw ‘Mad’s March Hare Mental Health Institute’ on the side.
Anthony felt sick at the callous name and devastated as he watched the back of Asa’s bowed head as he was driven away.
He had known all along that someone would have to be mad to love. And that somebody actually was.
*
‘Same again!’ called Anthony, raising his empty whisky glass.
The barman of the Wise Wizard came over with a fresh bottle of Talisker, taking away the empty one.
‘Evening Anthony,’ said Nina, who was clearing empty glasses from the next table. ‘How did the date go down?’
‘Like a lead balloon,’ mumbled Anthony.
‘Oh. You didn’t like him?’
‘Nothing to like. He didn’t show up.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Then an angel fell down from heaven…’
Nina frowned. ‘How much have you had to drink?’
‘Asa Fell. With an “s”.’
‘Oh, you did meet someone!’
Anthony necked back an almost full glass of amber liquid in response.
‘It didn’t go the way you hoped?’
‘Mm-mm!’ Anthony shook his head as he swallowed, setting down his glass on a coaster. ‘He’s great. Apart from the fact that he’s mad as the Hatter.’
‘Well, all men are mad, Anthony. Why do you think most of humanity is still single?’
‘No, Nina. I don’t use those words lightly. He actually lives in the loony bin. I saw the van – literally says, “mad as a march hare.” I mean, he started sane… until he told me we already knew each other – and that, I would remember.’
Nina considered this, glancing in the pocket of her apron at the Nina Simone LP record she had been given as a gift, not having the heart to tell them she had nothing to play it on. Something about the record and the giftee had given her a pause.
‘Tell me something,’ she said carefully. ‘Did you believe him, when he told you he knew you?’
Anthony thought back to that angel face. And how he had felt. ‘Yes… Sort of…’
‘Then – and I don’t often say this – follow your heart. Maybe you should find out where he thinks he knows you from before you give up on him. Love doesn’t come around that often. And True Love is rarer. You need him. And it sounds like he needs you.’
*
‘How can I help you, Mr – Professor – Crowley?’ asked Michael sitting behind the desk of her office.
‘I want to ask you about that man the other day,’ said Anthony. ‘Asa? I was wondering if maybe I could see him.’
‘I don’t think that’s a good idea. He’s not well.’
‘Clearly, he’s well enough for a field trip outside of his place.’
‘Well, that’s my mistake. I misjudged his condition.’
‘His condition?’
‘Mr Fell has issues with reality.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I just think it probably wouldn’t be a good idea for you to see him right now. It’ll only confuse him.’
‘You said “probably”, which means you might make an exception.’
Michael steepled her fingers, smiling. ‘Well, perhaps for family. Or a generous donor?’
Anthony smiled mechanically. Did he look like an eccentric billionaire? Or a mafia boss with hundreds of pounds to throw around? ‘Or in exchange for my silence.’
Michael’s smile faded a little. ‘I’m sorry?’
Anthony pulled out his phone. ‘The rec room on my way in looked pretty grim. And I happened to catch some footage of some really shocking displays of treatment that goes on here in the name of mental health care.’ He pulled his phone away before Michael even twitched to grab it. ‘And all already uploaded to the cloud, and sent to my good friend, Nina, just in case you’re thinking of confiscating my phone.’
Michael glared at him.
Five minutes later Anthony sat in the recreation room of the mental institution, waiting for Asa Fell. He had a visitors’ badge pinned to his jacket with a big top hat on it. There were patients all around him; some with a nurse supervising them. Most looked almost normal; reading, painting, playing Connect 4. While others were muttering to themselves; huddled in corners; or in the case of one catatonic man in a wheelchair, staring blankly out the window, whether or not they wanted to be positioned there for hours or still possessed enough mental faculties to acknowledge or appreciate what they were seeing.
Anthony knew it was unkind to think it, but being surrounded by these mentally ill patients was making him uncomfortable, as if he might catch whatever was wrong with them the longer he stayed, and then never leave this place. Well, at least he would have one fellow patient to keep him company.
A plump blonde nurse, “Maggie” according to her white rabbit’s name badge, came into the room all motherly smiles, bringing with her a bemused Asa. He never had visitors. She pointed out Professor Crowley to him and Anthony stood up, raising a hand in greeting. Anthony had never seen anyone so relieved to see him. Asa had an infection smile that could light up the world. He walked over to Anthony as though he was his salvation and eagerly sat down opposite him. Anthony returned to his seat.
‘You remember it,’ said Asa breathlessly.
Anthony’s insides twisted like snakes. ‘Um, no.’
Asa’s face fell.
‘Sorry.’
Asa looked like all his hopes and dreams were crushed but tried to accept it with grace and dignity. He nodded, his lips pressed together, staring down at the tabletop. ‘So, what are you doing in a place like this?’
‘Did she hurt you? Michael?’ Anthony wanted to know.
Asa shook his head mutely, not meeting Anthony’s eyes.
‘Are you sure?’ he pressed. ‘Are you sure you’re sure?’
Asa nodded, though he was scratching the crook of his arm through his shirt. A tiny red spot seeped through the fabric. ‘She reduced my reading time… And no pudding for dinner.’
‘Wanker,’ muttered Anthony before he could stop himself.
Where did that come from? Even Asa looked up in surprise.
Anthony tried to blow passed that moment. ‘Where is it you think you know me from? I take it you’re unfamiliar with my work? Or read my book?’
‘You’re a writer?’
‘Well, I wrote one book. I have two boxes in the garage, so you can imagine how well it sold on its first run. So, how do you know me?’
The less Asa knew, the more Anthony would know if he was lying or mad.
‘I… I’m not exactly sure.’ Asa sighed. ‘I know it won’t make any sense.’
‘I’ve dedicated my life to unravelling the mysteries of the universe. Try me.’
Asa swallowed, moistening his lips. ‘A couple of weeks ago, I was watching TV, just flicking through the channels, and happened to land on an interview of you with Brian Cox. And the moment I saw you, it was like I was hit over the head. All these feelings and memories came flooding back at once… of my life… only… it was… another life.’
‘What sort of memories?’ asked Anthony curiously.
Asa left out the Big Bang and dates from before the twenty-first century for fear of being thought insane. So he tested the waters by saying, ‘A garden… Rome… Paris… The Resurectionist pub in Edinburgh… dining at the Ritz… mostly in my bookshop… or like my bookshop on Berwhick Street.’
‘And I was there?’
‘Yes. We seemed happy. We knew each other. We liked each other.’
‘I’ve never been to any of those places. I hadn’t had the pleasure of visiting your bookshop.’
‘I know that, I do. But I can’t get you out of my head. Waking or sleeping, you’re there. That’s why the other night when I saw you in the restaurant I had to talk to you, Crowley – Anthony – because… if you remembered me…’
Asa looked pleadingly at Anthony, as if he held his fate, his life, his very sanity in his hands.
‘I wish I did, Asa,’ said Anthony apologetically, wishing he could give a different answer. ‘I really do. But I… don’t.’
A tear ran down Asa’s cheek. Anthony impulsively reached out and covered Asa’s hand with his own.
‘And that’s a tradgey, because you seem like someone awfully nice. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.’
‘It’s all right. It’s quite all right.’ Asa let a short wet laugh, wiping his face with his hand. ‘I’m crazy.’
‘You’re not crazy.’
Asa didn’t believe him. ‘How would you know, Professor?’
‘Because crazy people don’t know they’re going crazy. They think they’re getting saner. And, well, we’ve all got something, haven’t we? I mean, it takes a lot of bravery to go up to a complete stranger and tell them you think you know them from some strange, fantastical alternative universe. I lecture two hundred people and I’m scraed just saying “hi” to someone that I like.’
Asa smiled. ‘You’re doing splendidly.’
Anthony smiled. ‘I don’t just storm mental insitutions for anyone.’ He reached down into the bag he’d brought and produced a tupperware containing the uneaten angel cake. ‘Compliments of the Eden Garden. And it’s no fun to eat alone. Can I tempt you?’
Asa didn’t need convincing. ‘Temptation accomplished.’
They sat there sharing the angel cake. Well, Anthony mostly wacthed Asa eat. He was fascinated. He had never seen someone eat with such enthusiam, or appreicate what they were eating.
‘Mmm,’ Asa moaned with an ecstacy that made Anthony feel very aroused, as he finsihed the last bite. He set the plastic spoon down and wiped his mouth with his handkerchief. ‘That was absolutely scrumptious.’
‘I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone use that word in real life before.’
‘Ah, well, my mother used to say it. Another one she used to say was “tickety boo.” And… let’s see, what else? “Squiffy.”’
‘Squiffy, that’s good. I like that one.’
‘Hopelessly, yet amusingly drunk One she always got mixed up on was “wiggle on.” But I quite like it.’
‘I actually think that sounds better.’
‘Do you have a favourite funny words?’
‘Oh, I don’t know, er… I would say it was: bingle, bongle, dingle, dangle, yikerty-doo, yickerty-da, ping-pong, lippy tappy tootar. I was very squiffy at the time. Actually, less squiffy, more squashed.’
Asa giggled. Anthony chuckled, grinning.
‘Hello,’ said Nurse Maggie, bustling over. ‘Sorry. I hate to break this up, but it’s almost lunchtime.’
Indeed, they had been talking for so long that the rec room had emptied, Nurse Maggie staying as chaperone.
‘Oh. I’m so sorry, Maggie,’ said Asa.
‘Don’t worry, Angel. It’s good you came, Professor Crowley. It’s been so long since Mr Fell has even cracked a smile.’
Asa blushed. ‘I suppose you have to leave soon,’ he said, his tone clearly indicating his wish for Anthony to stay.
‘Can you ever… get out of here?’ asked Anthony. ‘On a day pass?’
Asa nodded. ‘Yes. I’m here voluntarily. Though I don’t think Michael would like it.’
‘Oh, Michael and I have a little understanding. She won’t be a problem.’
‘You…’ Asa lowered his voice to speak in hushed tones, less the furniture was listening in, ‘blackmailed her?’
‘Ceratinly not!’ said Anthony airily. ‘I just limited her options. I was hoping we could continued our conversation… over dinner. Or a picnic. Or something.’
Asa’s eyes widened. ‘You mean… a date?’
Anthony nodded.
‘The two of us? On purpose?’
‘If you don’t mind being seen with a scruffy old astrophysicist.’
Asa couldn’t think of anyone better to spend the day with. ‘I’d love that.’
Anthony grinned. ‘Then let’s talk to someone about getting you out of here. You’ve been locked up long enough.’
*
They ended up having a picnic in St James’ Park. Sitting on a bench, staring out at the ducks swimming along. A white and black swan floated nearby. Asa had brought Anthony a book from his bookshop: Arthur Eddington’s book on Relativity. It was only a second edition but Anthony, who had always wanted a copy of this, felt Asa had given him a priceless treasure. When it came to presents, it was never the cost or value of the gift, but listening and knowing what the person you cared about really wants.
Anthony was unpacking the hamper he’d brought telling Asa about all the different types of sandwiches he’d made them – unsure what Asa might like, he’d decided to them all.
‘…a bottle of lemonade… couple of penguins – sorry, I’ve never had a packed lunch without picking up a penguin since I was a wee boy. That and shortbread.’
Anthony noticed Asa looking pensively out across the water.
‘Is something wrong?’
‘Not wrong,’ said Asa. ‘Just… off.’
‘Oh. Have you been here before?’
‘No. No, it’s not that. It’s just being here with you feels so… familiar. Like a picnic we never had.’
Anthony didn’t know what to say to that.
Even Asa heard it. ‘Wow! I sound complete insane, don’t I?’
‘No. Not completely.’
Asa sighed and rubbed his eyes wearily. He was a complete mess. ‘Why do you even want to be with me?’
Anthony fiddled with a knapkin. ‘Why do you want to be with me?’
Asa looked round, astonished. ‘What do you mean?’
If anyone should have low self-esteem, Asa ticked all the boxes; from body image to quirky habits, to how he dressed, to believing he and Anthony Crowley already knew each other. What on earth did Anthony have to worry about?
Anthony shifted uncomfortably. He was a middle-aged, single man who had barely sold one book in his whole academic career and he had never even had a first kiss. ‘I mean… well, look at me.’
‘I am,’ said Asa unfazed. He leaned towards Anthony, bridging the whickerwork basket divide between them. ‘I want to be with you, because I like you.’
‘Yes, but… you’re only saying that because… well… you’re adorably delusional.’
Asa could see he would have to use actions rather than words. He leaned in all the way and kissed Anthony, who froze for a moment, then closed his eyes and returned the kiss, the sounds of the park around them turning into roaring unitellible noise –
Colours burst behind Anthony’s eyes and images from another life flashed across his mind; a world where Heaven and Hell, angels and demons were real. Where he was a demon – the Serpent of Eden – and Asa was an angel with fluffy blonde hair and twinkling blue eyes. Where they co-existed throughout humanity’s history, from Before the Beginning, to stopping Armageddon, to the Second Coming, to giving up their very existence to allow a world where humanity can have free will. The real world. Their world.
Anthony’s eyes snapped open and he parted with a gasp, his heart racing and brain reeling.
‘What is it?’ asked Asa anxiously. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘I…’ Anthony blinked hard. ‘I… I think I’m remembering stuff.’
Asa caught his breath. ‘You are?’
‘Oysters… our black Bentley… Jane Austen Ball… lunch at the Ritz… A.Z. Fell bookshop… I call you “Angel.”’
Asa nodded eagerly. ‘Yes! Yes! That’s right! Then… Then I’m not crazy?’
‘No, I don’t believe you are.’
‘You saw them, didn’t you?’
Anthony nodded. ‘Aziraphale and Crowley.’
Asa welled up just thinking about them. The other “them” in the universe that never was, who put Romeo and Juliet’s tradgic love story to shame. ‘They gave up everything for us. They deserved their happiness.’
‘What do we do now?’ said Anthony.
‘We live. As best we can. Let’s do it for them. For us.’
‘For all of us,’ Anthony agreed.
‘Do you suppose we’ll see them again?’
‘I think so.’
‘Optimism, my dear?’
‘Why not? A love and friendship as strong and enduring as Aziraphale and Crowley’s can never be destroyed. It just survives in a different form. I truly believe in whatever pocket universe they’re in, they’re watching over us.’
‘In the garden. The universe out there. And their whole world beside them. Everything they ever wanted.’
Anthony took Asa’s hand. ‘They’re not the only ones.’
Asa smiled and Anthony grinned back. They rested their foreheads together just like the white and black swan, nestled with its heart.
‘Cheers,’ said Crowley. ‘To the world.’
‘To the world,’ said Aziraphale as they clinked glasses in a toast to All of Us…