Gabriel

Gabriel

Cordelia awoke in the warm log cabin, rolling over to cuddle her husband Joshua, only to find a note explaining his absence:

Dear Cordelia,

    I didn’t want to wake you; you looked so peaceful.
    I’ve gone for a quick ski. Enjoy spending half our savings in town.
                                                 
Love Joshua

Cordelia didn't mind; they chose the Alpine resort because of its perfect mix of shops and snow, and the former was more her thing anyway. Besides, she could always meet him for lunch.
  A series of sharp knocks at the door pierced her thoughts. Her blood turned to ice.

***
Cordelia's cool green eyes traced the edge of her office building, a dark glassy obstacle brooding against a grey sky. She gritted her teeth and marched inside, avoiding anyone familiar in the lobby, picking up pace until she reached the safety of the lifts. The relief that she was alone cooled her burning skin. Joshua's dead, she thought, that's what they will think when they see me. Poor Cordelia, the newly-married widow.
  Her stomach churned as the lift ascended, opening onto the fourth floor. The hardwood corridor led to her small office at the front of the building. Cordelia sat at her desk, which after three months had developed a film of dust, and buried herself behind her thick red hair. She noticed a picture of Joshua on her desk, so she stuffed it in the top draw just as her boss strode in.
  “Good to see you, Cordelia.”
  “Thanks Morgan.”
  He fixed his gaze on the fake pot-plant by the window. “It's short notice, I know, but you will be meeting your new secretary this afternoon.”
  Cordelia blinked. “Huh? What about Sylvia?”
  “Didn't she tell you? Today is her last day; she is retiring.”
  Sylvia had shown her the ropes, and been a great confidant ever since Cordelia had started her internship at the firm. Another loss then. She felt like she was fighting a war just to keep afloat and now her ally had abandoned her.
  When her boss left, the room seemed stuffy and quiet, the only sound was the incessant ticking of the clock. Finally Cordelia snapped and unhooked it from the wall, tossing it out the window. She hoped the transgression would make her feel something — anything — but it didn't.
“Why me? Why now?” She called out, staring at the dull clouds. There wasn’t enough time in the world to ask the questions sewn into her lonely soul. A single thought overwhelmed her mind. Please help me get through this. Who she was speaking to she didn't know, but now she felt calm enough to face her colleagues.
  The last few hours before lunch passed and Cordelia arrived in the packed canteen, pushing through the crowd of warm bodies and steaming plates of food. At last she located Sylvia, sitting alone in the corner where it was quieter. Cordelia wondered over, assuming the other seat wasn't free, as Sylvia's coat was draped over it.
  “Hey.”
  Sylvia jumped up, pushing back her fine grey hair before embracing her. “I've been waiting for you,” she smiled, the lines around her eyes crinkling. “I got you a coffee.”
  She removed the coat from the seat. “Are you sure you don't want any?” Cordelia asked, sitting down. Sylvia forced the cup into her numb fingers.
  “You should have told me you're leaving.”
  Guilt was an emotion that Sylvia had never mastered. Instead she shrugged, peeling off her knitted cardigan. “I didn't want to give you anything else to think about while you were...away,” she said. “It's just time for me to potter around and be a lady of leisure.”
  “You are anyway,” smiled Cordelia, “but I guess I can forgive you.” She sipped the scalding coffee and stood up. “Let me buy you something.” Sylvia shook her head. “An edible leaving present.”
  “Wait—”
  It was too late. Cordelia had already swivelled round and crashed into a six foot three inch solid object, spilling coffee down the crisp white shirt. She looked up at the golden mane of curls, the baby blues, the glowing skin.
  “Cordelia,” said Sylvia, who was suddenly by her side. “May I introduce Gabriel — your new secretary.”
  “Oh heavens! I am so sorry, I just didn't see you.”
  “No, that's ok, really; coffee-brown is my favourite colour anyway.”  His open smile was like a blast of warm sunshine. “Just don’t make a habit of it.” 
  “I am such an idiot. Can I get you anything? Some paper—” Her voice quivered, her cheeks blazing red.
  Gabriel shrugged. “I'm just off to the men's, don't worry.” He patted her on the shoulder with a gentle touch, as if he thought she would break under the pressure. As he walked away Cordelia found herself cracking the first genuine smile she could recall.

The following morning Cordelia took her time walking through the lobby, her heeled shoes tapping against the marbled floor. Wearing a tight-lipped smile she stopped to speak to a few people she worked with, including peroxide Jane at the reception desk. “Sorry for your loss.” It was like a sad jingle, one she heard five times before reaching the lift. Already her shoulders were slumped. So much for being positive.
  I have friends who care about me, she affirmed, but the words fell flat.
  Gabriel was waiting in the office, a familiar looking clock in his hands. So he's punctual. Despite her best intentions, she scrunched her face with a look that read: don't push me today.
  “Morning Cordelia! Lovely day, don’t you think?” Gabriel's chirpy voice disarmed her.
  “Where did you find that clock?”
  Gabriel's chesty laugh filled the small space. “I found it after it flew out of your window yesterday.”
  Cordelia's cheeks turned from pale to maroon. First you crack a clock on his head and then you cover him in hot coffee, she thought, cringing. He must think I'm nuts.
“Thanks for bringing it back – lucky it didn’t break.”
  “Actually it did, but I fixed it for you. I figured you needed it after all,” Gabriel said as he placed it back on the wall.
  Cordelia ruffled through the folders in her desk. “Take this to Matthew, will you? Tell him he can thank me later.”
  “What's it for?” asked Gabriel, his voice high-pitched with curiosity.
  “The Bramley case.”
    Gabriel raised an eyebrow and wandered off with the folder. He finally returned, a lot later than she was expecting.
  “I’m sorry I took so long Cordie, I lost my way. This place is bigger than I thought.”
  No one calls me Cordie anymore. “You’ll get used to it. Did you get the file to Matthew?”
  “Yes, yes, safe and sound — he seemed very pleased to receive it. What was it, a million pound cheque?”
    Cordelia started as Gabriel clapped his palms together.
  “Let's just say I dug up some dirt; it's my job.”
  She frowned as he went through a series of unfathomable facial expressions, one shoulder leaning against the door.
  “What's the matter?”
  His voice, when it finally came out, was deep and tender. “I wanted to say I heard about Joshua and the avalanche and I’m sorry. It wasn’t right for that to happen to someone like you.” His eyes were glued to his shoes.
  Cordelia shot him down with a frosty stare. I haven’t told anyone how Joshua died!
  “It wasn’t my place.” Gabriel was pained, and the look really didn't suit him. It jarred Cordelia from her suspicions.
  “It's a touchy subject.” I must have told someone else, she thought.


When Gabriel came back after running some errands, his strong arms loaded with paperwork, Cordelia decided it was time for a lunch break.
  “What are you doing?”
  “Trying to shut the door,” he sighed, collecting up the sea of copy-paper falling to the floor. “Seems I can't do both at once.”
  Cordelia grabbed her handbag and coat. She waited for Gabriel to get out the way but he mistook it for an invitation. “Are we going to lunch?” he asked.
  “Sure,” she said. “I'll meet you down there.” She considered ducking him by going out in the gardens, thus leaving him wandering around the canteen. “I'll be outside,” she added.
  Her legs were restless from sitting, so she took the stairs, bumping into Matthew on the last flight. “Hey Cordelia. I wanted to come and see you but I thought you'd need some space.”
  “Thanks, that's thoughtful. I don't think I can bear any more sympathies.”
  His guilty look spoke volumes. “Even so,” he said, “if you need to talk.”
  Matthew was the opposite of Gabriel in terms of colouring. He was less of an Adonis and more tall, dark and handsome.
“Well.” Cordelia hesitated, her bitten nails digging into her palm. “I was thinking about having a house warming. Why don't you come along?” 
  “I'd love to. Are Sylvia and Gabriel coming?”
  “Gabriel? Maybe. What do you think of him?” she asked.
  “He's something else. Seems genuine though. Told me you dropped coffee on him.”
  “I'm never going to live it down,” groaned Cordelia, diverting her eyes from Matthew.
  “He didn't sound bothered. He was very respectful.” He put one foot on the next step. “Better dash; I'm snowed under.”
  Cordelia winced at the phrase. Matthew had no idea what he'd said, and hurried up the stairs, leaving her alone in a cloud of cologne.
  The square gardens belonged to the office blocks, four glass backs containing the greenery. Even though they were in the city centre, the trees twittered with birdsong and flowers bloomed in colourful clumps.
  “Boo!” shouted a voice from nowhere.
  “Gabriel!” she yelped. “This is a professional environment, not a game of hide and seek!”
  “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
  She tried to change the subject. “Is that lunch?”
  He handed her a brown paper bag to match his own, and they shuffled along the stone path until they reached a bench. It was covered in old bird droppings but they relaxed on it, mentally scraping the mess off.
  “I’m exhausted,” said Cordelia as Gabriel eyed the hungry looking birds on the grass.
  “I’m not surprised. This law stuff is hard work, and I’m just the secretary!”
  “Yes well.” Cordelia rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t help when you’re moving house at the same time.”
  “Oh?” He watched her, a small crease forming on his smooth forehead.
  “When Joshua and I married we sold our house and went skiing for our honeymoon. The plan was to stay at my father's until we found a new home. Little did we know that I was the only one coming back...” Cordelia's voice trailed off as she bit back the rising flood of tears.
  Gabriel touched her hand.
  “I suppose that's where you’ve been the last few months?”
  Cordelia was a little annoyed. Who keeps telling him what I’ve been up too?
  “How did you know I was away for three months? For all you know I’ve been here the whole time,” she snapped.
  Gabriel hastily removed his hand. “Matthew told me, remember when...” he stopped, realising she'd got the picture.
  “Oh, sorry. I’m just finding it difficult; you’re new so I thought you wouldn’t be in the know. I was looking forward to a fresh start.”
  Gabriel smiled in an uncomfortable way, and reached into the lunch bag for his sandwich.
  “Will you come to my house warming?” she asked after he'd taken a few bites. “Maybe having some people around will make it feel more like home.”

It was too quiet at the house. By 9pm Cordelia was sitting alone in her local dive, light-headed and woozy. Her flaming red locks commanded attention but she wouldn't even meet the eyes of her admirers. As the alcohol infused her blood, her mood worsened but at least her cold limbs began to thaw. 
  At first she didn't recognise the man slamming the door against the wind. She turned and saw in her mind Gabriel dropping the pile of papers. He was out of work clothes, dressed in a grassy-green casual shirt and deep blue combats.
  He headed straight across the room, as if already knowing where she was, his face grim. “You look as miserable as I feel,” she said, slurring her words.
  “Drowning your sorrows won't solve a puzzle.”
  “It's my body. No-one else's. I'll do what I want.”
  “Orange juice please,” said Gabriel to the barman. He returned his gaze to Cordelia, who by this time appeared completely spaced out.
  “You should think about grief counselling.”
  “Yeah, because that will bring my husband back.”
  “It's better than poisoning yourself and it'll help you deal with the pain. Joshua wants you to be happy.” His voice grew intense. “I know he does.”
  “Of course, I forgot. You know everything don’t you? How he died, where I’ve been for the past three months and oh yeah, you know he wants me to get a shrink! Tell me, how is it that you’re so close to Joshua and me that you know these things?”
  Gabriel reached for the orange juice, taking it out of the barman’s rough hands. He looked at her like he was searching for microscopic bugs that might be contagious.
  He leaned close, as if to kiss her which frightened Cordelia, although she didn’t move. His index finger rested on her stomach. “But it's not just your body, is it?”
  She shivered hot and cold at once, the electricity from his touch shooting through her abdomen. Her head lifted slowly to question Gabriel but he was nowhere to be seen. Just then she found a note on the bar in front of her. Get a cab home.

Cordelia crawled out of bed with a hangover the size of a small island. She stumbled into her new shiny en-suite and grabbed hold of the still unfamiliar basin, tilting her head in the direction of the mirror. “I look a mess,” she mouthed at her reflection. “Maybe Gabriel is right about the counsellor.” She thought about his parting words and the way he'd touched her stomach.
  It didn't make sense, to have this rising intuition. She pulled out the scales and hesitated before gaining the courage to use them. “Five pounds fatter,” she huffed.
  The needle fluttered as she shifted her feet, and suddenly it hit her.  Snapshots of early mornings, rushing to the bathroom, feeling exhausted, the lack of a monthly cycle. It was obvious, she thought, that it was the grief and occasional heavy drinking. She felt the rounded curve of her belly.
  It was a Sunday afternoon, and Cordelia only had another hour to get to the chemist. Not since she was late for her final law exam had she ever dressed so quickly. Joshua would be proud, she thought. “Come on Cordie—you can't guild a lily”. His words echoed like her footsteps on the pavement.
  Cordelia acted with a mind in suspended motion, buying the first test she saw. Even as she read the instructions and waited for the longest two minutes of her life, everything was blank. The rush of pounding blood flooding through her ears was the only thing telling her any of this was real.
  The results flashed up on the digital stick. Pregnant, it read.. Cordelia did the calculations in her head. 12 weeks. 3 months. Oh Joshua. Joshua.
  Then, Gabriel. Gabriel knew.
  Cordelia sat glued to the bathroom tiles. Lost in reverie, she gasped when the doorbell rang. Her legs felt like jelly as she descended the stairs and opened the front door. “How did you know?”

Cordelia dubiously invited Gabriel into her new home. She had given him the address for the house warming, but part of her felt he probably already knew it.
Gabriel found the leather couch amongst the boxes and packaging in the open-plan sitting-room. He still hadn't answered her question, so she switched on the kettle in the adjoining kitchen.
  “You look like you need a hand Cordie. How have you been coping?” Gabriel instigated, his tone oblivious to the ruck they had the previous evening.
  “Fine fine, never better: life has been fantastic after all, you know, being pregnant with my dead husband’s kid. Green tea Gabriel?” Her hands shook with anger, as if his knowledge of her was a violation.
  “I was just looking out for you last night,” said Gabriel with no hint of surprise at her revelation. “Yes please; I love green tea.”
  She brought him the Chinese cup, and watched as he placed it on the glass coffee table in front of him. Cordelia noticed him staring at the bottle in her other hand, the one she picked up automatically. “I suppose I shouldn’t now I know, although you knew before me. How is that even possible?”
  Gabriel said nothing but then relented under her piercing green glare.
  “I just sort of know these things.”
  Cordelia was not convinced. She let her eyes glide around her front room and sighed.
  “What do I do now?” Her voice was frayed with fatigue.
  “Well, in your condition you can’t move these heavy boxes. I’ll help with that if you’ll let me. And you need to see the doctor to check things out.”
  Cordelia thought about all the alcohol and nodded.
  Gabriel sprang to his feet and grabbed the closest cardboard box he could find. He opened it and saw that it was full of unwashed clothing, men’s clothing. Gabriel folded the items and laid them on the sofa’s arm rest. “What do you want to do with these?” he asked.
  Sunlight reflected her tears. She wiped them away and shakily walked to his side. Cordelia picked up Joshua’s old shirts and cradled them, breathing in the fading scent of her husband. “Don't crinkle them,” she said.

“How did the doctor's appointment go?” Cordelia was late.
  “Gabriel, how did you—” She shook her head as he blushed, looking away as if he were a school boy asking a girl out on a date. “Never mind,” she said, “stupid question.”
  “It’s obvious really. You just found out you're pregnant, and I believe that someone as professional as you wouldn't be late unless it was essential.”
  Cordelia began to laugh at the normal explanation. “So you’re a detective now? That still doesn’t explain how you know about everything else that nobody has told you, does it?”
  “No, it doesn't...but break my suspense Cordie; how did it go?” Gabriel said, guarding the words tickling at his throat.
  “Fine, I’ve got to book an appointment at the hospital, I’m 12 weeks. Is that right Gabriel?”
  “No actually, I think you’ll find that you're 12 weeks, 2 hours and 43 minutes pregnant,” he shot back, exposing a neat row of teeth as he grinned.
  She sent him off to fetch some forms from reception. There's something up with that kid, she thought as he dawdled around the office before finally getting on with the task. Out of her periphery, she saw something detach from his shoe. Curious, she ventured over and lifted the torn segment of paper from the floor. Cordelia was sure it was Gabriel's handwriting, and she compared it to a note he left her a few days before.
  I feel her sadness run through my blood. If only I could tell her. I will. I can’t, I won’t! I have too, but not yet; the timing isn’t right.
  She folded the trodden down paper and placed it in her drawer with the picture of Joshua, unable to throw either away.
  Matthew showed up before Gabriel managed to. Gabriel really wasn't cut out for an assistant role but Cordelia couldn't comprehend firing him when he'd already been so good to her.
  “We won the Bramley case!” shouted Matthew as he strode over to her desk. “Thanks to you. That dirt you dug up was like fresh soil from the compost heap!”
  Cordelia stood up and gave him a semi-hug over the table. “That's great.”
  “So, how are you?” He rubbed his hands together, his mind on the victory.
  “Fine. I need to talk to you about something—someone—Gabriel.”
  “Gabriel?” asked Matthew, standing a little straighter. “Has he upset you? Because if he has—”
  “—No, not at all. There's something off about him though.”
  When Matthew took a few seconds to reply she was sure she'd lost him.
  “Ah, must be his friendly genuine demeanour,” he teased. “Most people around here are always so moody and stressed, except you of course.”
  But Cordelia was determined to get to the bottom of it and really find out how Gabriel knew so much about her. Still, deep down she agreed with Matthew; Gabriel was a good person, she felt it.
Cordelia wrapped her wavy red hair into a bun on top of her head, sighing as she studied her reflection in the wardrobe mirror. Her green silk dress was tighter than usual, and her reflection less radiant.  She unravelled the bun, deciding it looked more like a hairy snake rather than an elegant coil.
  The sitting room was freezing, so she bent down to the radiator on the far wall to turn it up, banging against the shelf as she stood. Cordelia rubbed her head, noticing a picture of her and Joshua on Safari in Africa. She took hold of the silver frame, scrutinising the picture and even without her glasses, she could make out a figure in the distance, skin covered in white linen and a matching turban. Squinting, she saw a ring of golden hair leaking out under the headdress.
  “It couldn't be,” whispered Cordelia, but she didn't have a chance to think on it; her first guest had arrived.
  “Evening!” greeted Sylvia, handing over a present wrapped in the shape of a wine bottle, “Hope you like it!”
Cordelia invited her in with a smile and a gesture of her hand. As Sylvia took a seat in the sitting room, Cordelia took the wine into the kitchen and uncorked the bottle. She looked at it and then at her stomach before placing two wine glass on the kitchen counter, only pouring into one. Under the kitchen sink, to her relief, she found a bottle of blackcurrant squash.
  She made up the blackcurrant juice and took both wine glasses into the sitting room where Sylvia was waiting, reading a magazine she found on the coffee table.
  “Here you go,” she said, careful to pass the right glass over to the correct person. Cordelia took a slow sip of her deception.
  “Good enough for my girl?”
  “Yes, lovely thank you!” she said, one eye on the front door.
  Matthew and Gabriel arrived together, and Cordelia started to feel hemmed in. She was glad Jane couldn't make it; three was more than enough for her, and besides, Matthew had brought enough wine for a party. It was an effort to keep the pretence, but she refilled glasses like a drought was coming, sneaking into the kitchen every now and then to top up with blackcurrant.
  Gabriel followed her in on the third trip and cornered her by the cooker. “Please tell me that's not what I think it is,” he said, pointing to her glass.
  “It's blackcurrant,” she said. “Matthew's kind of drunk, isn't he?”
  Just then he appeared in the doorway, looking rather relaxed. “Gabriel, give us a minute?”
  Cordelia shot him an inquiring look as Gabriel made himself scarce. “What's up?”
  “My blood pressure,” Matthew chuckled. “No, I wanted to tell you something.” He joined her by the cooker and took her hand, rubbing it between his palms. “I have always been fond of you,” he started, “for a long time. It's not just the drink. Cordelia — I never said anything out of respect for Joshua but—”
  She jumped back, panic rising in her throat. Was he coming on to her? “I can't,” she said, “I can't.”
  “Wait, I don't mean now.” He retook her hand. “But maybe one day, when you're ready. No pressure I swear. I will be your friend for as long as you need.”
  Cordelia stared into his brown eyes, watching his neat black brows frown. She had planned on telling everyone tonight but now the words wouldn't come; she couldn't watch the look of hope on Matthew's face turn to fear.
  Long before midnight, her friends left in a flurry of hugs and goodbyes. Gabriel lingered in the hallway, but then he just shook his head and left. Cordelia could feel his disappointment, and she retired to her double bed, staring at the French doors leading to her balcony.
  Tossing and turning replaced sleep as she recalled Matthew's proposition, her thoughts turning to the life inside her; if she could cope, how she would earn a living? It felt so wrong that Joshua wasn't here to talk to. But then if he was, she would be sleeping peacefully...
  When she woke it was pitch dark, but she could make out the flakes of snow sticking to the doors.
  “Cordelia.” The voice was so soft it melted her heart. “Cordelia. Come.”
  The command dug inside her like a hook and she climbed out of bed, slipping on a lacy dressing gown. The doors creaked as she pushed them open, silvery moonlight shining through the crack. Her feet felt thick snow but somehow it wasn't cold. A figure, warmly dressed, formed in her vision, rising out of the curtain of falling snow. She saw the gloved hands, the ones that had held her so often. They gripped the small fingers of two toddlers, both with red cheeks and copper hair, just like her own.
  Joshua was here, and he was flanked by two cherubs.
  “Cordelia.”
  “J-Joshua?” It must be a dream. She strode forward and flung her arms around him, sinking into his chest. “Oh God, Joshua! I've missed you so much!”
  She stepped back, touching his silken cheek. Then she took in the children. Their big green eyes and fat faces were hauntingly familiar. “Who are they?” she whispered but held her belly, sensing the answer.
  “Ours,” said Joshua.
  “Both?”
  “Yes.”
  The revelation felt like an obvious fact. Cordelia knelt in the snow and grasped the two children. They nestled into her chest as she swallowed her sobs. Can this be real? 
“Why have you come here?”
  “To remind you to love again, Cordelia. To love yourself, our children, to love another. If your heart shuts down...” he reached out to touch her chest, “...then it will be like you died too.”
  “So I should move on, just like that?”
  “Better than staying where you are. If we don't keep going, we stop. You can't stop now.”
  “How is it possible for you to be here? Can you stay?”
  Joshua smiled. “No, but we have a friend in common.”
  Cordelia looked up and he stepped to one side, revealing a shining silhouette, robed in moonlit snowflakes. His mane flamed gold, and endless orbs of watery blue locked into her soul. It was his voice that called her. Gabriel's voice.
  “You,” she stuttered, rising to her feet. “You are angelic.” The light of creation pulsed behind him.
  But then the scene crumbled, and everything went black.

“Matthew? Can we talk?” Cordelia stood by his polished wooden desk, admiring how clutter-free his office was compared to hers.
  “Hey. Gabriel's not here if you're—”
  “No, I know. I haven't seen him though.” Not since last night, she thought. And yet, Gabriel and Joshua were smoothing her path, as one skier creates the slipstream for the other, easing the ride. She saw them in her head, skiing into the distance, rising into the sky. Angels. That's what they are.
  “Oh wait, he asked me to give you this.”
  Matthew handed her a fold of thick paper. Cordelia traced her fingertips over the curly script, knowing with each word she read that Gabriel was receding farther away. Never be afraid to ask for help. I won't be far.
  “Is everything hunky-dory?”
  Cordelia tucked the note into her blouse pocket, choosing to redirect the conversation. “Did you mean what you said last night?”
  Matthew blushed. “Of course,” he said, standing up and walking around the desk. “Always.”
  Cordelia swallowed hard before taking a deep breath. “I'm pregnant with twins.”
  As she waited for the scream of horror, the quick exit, the rejection, she felt the same nervous exhilaration she had when Joshua called her after their first date. For the first time in three months, she just wanted to be held.
  Sunlight broke through, pouring in the tinted windows of the office. Down the hall she could hear the whirring of a photocopier.
  Matthew wound his fingers into hers and pulled her close, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “I have always wanted children.”