Clovenhoof 02 Pigeonwings Read online

  He turned to his computer and wondered if other people were having more luck. He tried some searches. Where were signs of God to be found? What did they look like, and did people believe them? A few minutes later he realised that signs of God were far more numerous than he had imagined. The silhouette of the Virgin Mary on a griddle. The face of Jesus on a leaf and in a puddle of sauce. For some reason the face of Mother Teresa was regularly seen on Danish pastries, and God liked to write his name in Arabic on the insides of fruit and vegetables across the globe.

  Michael had been wrong. There were messages from God all across the world, he just had to find a way to see them and interpret them. He drummed his fingers on his desk for a few minutes then fetched his Bible.

  "Lord, speak to me. Please," he said. "I need some guidance."

  He opened it at a random page and stabbed his finger halfway down. He had landed on Chronicles 23:19. "He also stationed gatekeepers at the gates of the Lord’s temple so that no one who was in any way unclean might enter". His finger was against the word gates.

  Michael bristled with excitement. Here was something he could work with! That simple word in that straightforward sentence made everything suddenly clear. He had work to do. God wanted him to take on the role of gatekeeper, to protect the church here on earth and make sure that people came to it in a pure and wholesome way. God had even hinted how he should fulfil his mission. He was to emulate Bill Gates. He would use the power of technology and put himself in a position of influence. Getting a job would be important. He needed to quickly become a captain of industry. Michael stared at the screen and wondered how he'd do that.

  He searched the internet for "position of authority" but that simply brought up a number of news stories. "Captain of industry" was no better. "Seat of power" turned up nothing that would help with job-hunting, but the results included a bizarre Japanese toilet that played music, warmed the seat and provided a massage for the user. Michael was reminded that his bathroom still lacked a toilet. He read on, fascinated to find that there were some high tech options available. Was it possible that the whole process could be dealt with in a more pleasant way? Diverted momentarily from his need for a job, Michael began a separate quest for a solution to his more fundamental problem.

  ~ooOOOoo~

  Nerys chose to seize the bull by the horns and organised a curry night with the flatmates. Jayne would have to meet Ben, Michael and Jeremy eventually and Nerys preferred that to be on the neutral grounds of the Karma Lounge Indian restaurant. Besides, after her rant that afternoon, Nerys didn’t want to spend too much time alone with Jayne right now, and introducing her to her friends and having an evening of mindless banter was easier to face than any competitive sisterliness.

  Clovenhoof advised Michael on the most suitable meal for his unworldly constitution.

  "Tindaloo, every time. You'll love it."

  "It is a musical name," said Michael. "It sounds delicate and refreshing."

  Nerys had an idea of what was going on, so she loudly told Jayne about the milder options on the menu, and warned her about the corrosive horrors of Tindaloo and Phaal.

  Clovenhoof pouted.

  "Nice top Nerys," he said. "Are Ann Summers having another closing down sale?"

  Nerys ignored him and moved the poppadums swiftly out of his way before he could stab his finger through the pile as he often did.

  "Actually, Jeremy," she said. "Jayne and I wanted to ask your advice on something."

  Ben raised his eyebrows in surprise and Michael laughed softly.

  "As you all know," Clovenhoof replied. "I am an authority on many subjects. Ask away."

  "We thought you might know how to get a body disinterred, as you work for a funeral director," said Jayne.

  "Why on earth would you want to know that?" asked Ben.

  "According to the will that only just came to light," said Nerys, glaring at Clovenhoof, "Molly wanted to be cremated, and we buried her."

  "Easy mistake to rectify," said Clovenhoof. "I wouldn't try and do it officially though, there's a load of paperwork that you'll never get through. We'll just dig her up in the night and burn her in the garden at the flats."

  There was a chorus of ‘no’s, even one from the passing waiter.

  Michael got up from his chair.

  "Call of nature," he said. "Do excuse me."

  Clovenhoof shrugged at the faces around the table. Jayne's mouth remained open in horror for longer than the others.

  "Suit yourself. Why does it matter though? Molly's in no position to mind whether she was cremated or buried. Are the will police after you or something?"

  "No," said Nerys. "It's just that we want to do the right thing, in honour of her memory. She wanted her ashes to be scattered in a place where she walked out with her first love."

  "It's so romantic," breathed Jayne.

  Michael returned from the toilet. He nudged Clovenhoof discreetly in the ribs.

  "Can I show you something?"

  Michael started to pull a jar from his jacket pocket, but Clovenhoof's hand pushed it firmly back in.

  "No. Not now, not ever. I look at my own poo. I quite often think I'd like to show other people when it's a good one, but I've learned that nobody's all that keen."

  Michael looked downcast. He'd have to put the jar with the others, but he still didn't know if it was normal.

  "Does it matter if it's really Molly's ashes?" asked Ben. "If you're doing it to honour Molly's memory, then maybe it's not important."

  "Her soul's in Heaven anyway," said Nerys.

  Michael noticed a look of surprise cross Nerys's face, as if she hadn't expected those words to pop out of her own mouth.

  "You are dust, and to dust you shall return," he said. "You might say that all ashes are Molly's ashes. Earthly remains are unimportant."

  "Are you suggesting," asked Jayne tentatively, "that we should get some other ashes and scatter them as if they're Molly?"

  Nerys nodded slowly.

  "It could work, I suppose."

  "I'll get you some proper ashes from work if you like," said Clovenhoof, shovelling lime pickle into his mouth on a fragment of poppadum.

  "I find it most perverse," said Michael, shaking his head.

  "Oh really, Mickey? You think that's perverse?" said Clovenhoof. He leaned over and patted Michael's pocket. "Would you care to turn out your pockets and repeat that?"

  ~ooOOOoo~

  On the Monday, when Nerys had gone out to work, Jayne decided to begin the search for the Dogpool Potter’s Field where Molly had wanted her ashes scattered. The will had said it was where Molly had first ‘walked out’ with her love although that probably meant it was just the location of the bush where they’d had their first clumsy fumble or whatever it was kids did back in the fifties. Nonetheless, it would be nice to do one decent thing for Molly and, if she found it, maybe Nerys would be a little less scathing about Jayne’s affection for her aunt.

  A search of Nerys’ A-Z revealed several roads called Dogpool and a Potter’s Field retail park but no actual Dogpool Potter’s Field. Eventually, Jayne chose to trust in fate, clipped the lead onto a playful Twinkle and set out into Sutton Coldfield with hope and good vibes to guide her.

  Autumn leaves covered the pavement after a heavy frost from the night before. Jayne hadn't expected Birmingham to have so many trees, and she smiled at the sight of Twinkle scuffling through the drifts with his diminutive paws.

  "Shall we go and look in the shops, Twink?"

  She drifted in and out of the shops on the high street, carrying Twinkle in her arms in an effort to circumvent any no-dog policies.

  She entered a second hand bookshop called Books ‘n’ Bobs. She browsed the shelves, murmuring to Twinkle about the interesting titles.

  "Hello, Jayne."

  She turned to the counter.

  "Ben. I didn't realise you worked here."

  "It's my shop," he said with a small, proud sweep of his hand.

  "Real
ly?" said Jayne. "A local businessman."

  "I suppose I am."

  "I love a good bookshop," she said and pulled a heavy history book off a shelf by way of demonstration. "I can lose myself for hours."

  She blew the dust off the top of the book and placed it on a different shelf, where it quite clearly belonged.

  "I have customers who've been lost for so long that I send sherpas after them," said Ben. "I issue balls of string to new people so that they can find their way back."

  Jayne smiled and, putting Twinkle down to free her hands, continued to move books around to their correct positions.

  "I'm sure I'll manage," she said, "I'm starting to get the hang of Boldmere now, I've walked all over the place today."

  "Yes?"

  "I’m looking for this park or field or whatever where Aunt Molly wanted her ashes scattered."

  "Have you looked in the A-Z?"

  Jayne pulled the street atlas from her pocket and gave Ben a look that she hoped said, ‘I may be a woman but I’m not stupid.’

  "Maybe we should try the internet," said Ben, gesturing to the computer on the counter.

  Jayne gave an unconvinced shrug.

  "So, do you like Boldmere?" said Ben, as he began his internet search.

  "Oh yes," said Jayne. "I can see why Nerys chooses to live here, even though I'm sure she could afford a huge place, what with her doing so well at work and everything."

  "Really?" said Ben. "I had no idea, I thought she was just an administrator."

  "Oh yes, she told me. That's why she's so busy and she doesn't have time to spend with the men who are always chasing her."

  "Nerys? This was definitely Nerys?" Ben asked, coming closer.

  "Yes, of course. Why?" asked Jayne.

  "Nerys spends so much time trying to trap a man, I'm surprised she hasn't actually dug a pit outside the house."

  "No!" said Jayne. "Surely not. That’s more like my other sisters, Lydia and Catherine." She put down the book she was holding. "Actually it sounds like my mom too." She thought for another moment. "Actually... it does sound like Nerys a few years ago. I just assumed she had more luck since she moved to Birmingham."

  Ben shook his head.

  "Apparently not." He gave her a look. "You're not desperate to find a man yourself then?"

  "No," said Jayne. "I don't go round looking as hard as the others do. I firmly believe that I'll cross paths with Mr Right when it's meant to be."

  "Nerys believes the same thing," said Ben. "But she just makes sure she crosses a lot more paths than everyone else."

  That made Jayne laugh.

  "Here," said Ben and turned the screen around so Jayne could see. "I must admit that I can’t find Dogpool Potter’s Field on most maps but there’s a reference to it here and an old Ordnance Survey map I could print off."

  "Could you?"

  "I could," said Ben and did just that.

  This was good news.

  "Oh, Twinkle, we'll have some good news for your mistress, won't we?"

  She looked behind her. No Twinkle. She looked behind and under the shelves.

  "Twinkle?"

  She turned on the spot and looked towards the open door of the shop.

  "Oh no. Twinkle."

  Ben scooted round the counter.

  "Come on," he said, locking up the shop. "We'll soon find him, he can't have gone far."

  "Nerys is going to kill me," said Jayne.

  ~ooOOOoo~

  Clovenhoof hummed happily to himself as he tidied up a client at Buford’s Funeral Directors. He had had the job for no more than five months and was continually surprised by two facts: one, that he still enjoyed it and, two, that he hadn’t been fired yet. He worked for a few minutes on padding old Mr Waddington’s mouth, wondering how much of the deranged gerbil look he could get away with. He sighed and adjusted his work. Manpreet, his supervisor, had strict ideas about this subject.

  His mobile phone rang as he decided that he could get away with giving Mr Waddington the ‘gobstopper in each cheek’ look. He answered the call to a cultured female voice.

  "Hello, I have a dog here that belongs to you, I believe."

  Clovenhoof thought for a moment. Did Twinkle have Molly’s phone number on his collar?

  "Little ratty looking thing? Bad attitude?"

  "It’s a miniature Yorkshire terrier, and he seems a fine fellow to me," said the voice.

  "Well that can’t be Twinkle then."

  "Yes. Twinkle is what it says on his collar."

  Clovenhoof sighed.

  "Tell me where you are. I’ll come and get him."

  ~ooOOOoo~

  Ben and Jayne had strayed far from the high street.

  "Twinkle!" called Jayne. "Nerys is going to kill me."

  "I’m sure she won’t," said Ben. "You were trying to do a nice thing, taking him for a walk."

  "We’ve already argued about Molly’s will. I’m sure she’ll think I’ve done it on purpose."

  "Jayne," said Ben, placing a hand on hers. "I can vouch for you. I know you were just distracted for a moment."

  Jayne gave a small smile.

  "We’ll look for a few more minutes, but I think we might need to tell Nerys what’s happened. I can’t imagine that we’ll find him now."

  "Hang on," said Ben, looking at the sheet of printing paper in his hand. "We’re near Dogpool Potter’s Field."

  "But Twinkle!" said Jane.

  "It should be up the second turnoff on the left," he said, peering at his sheet. "There should be some allotments there."

  They walked up the road that Ben indicated and then stopped as they saw what was ahead.

  "Ben," said Jayne. "Is it possible that you’ve made a mistake?"

  "No," he said after consulting his map on last time.

  "That’s not a field."

  "No."

  "That’s a supermarket."

  It was slightly more than just a supermarket. It was a huge supermarket, possibly the size of the entire field it had been built upon.

  "I guess they redeveloped the area," said Ben. "What will we do?"

  "Well, it’s the place that she wanted."

  "Well, you could just go ahead and do it."

  "Scatter the ashes there?"

  "Just, you know, really quickly while nobody’s looking."

  ~ooOOOoo~

  Looking for God - My search for employment

  Today I sought some help with my search for employment. My upstairs neighbour, Nerys works at the Helping Hand Job Agency, so I went there to visit her.

  She greeted me warmly upon my arrival. In fact, it appeared to me that she viciously elbowed some colleagues out of the way so that she might serve me herself, but I am inexperienced in office etiquette.

  When she realised that I was looking for work she sat me down and gave me a number of forms to fill in. Details about my address and computer skills were easy enough to relate, but I hesitated when at the section which required details of my experience. If I reveal specific details of my working life prior to my arrival, I fear they will not be taken seriously. I left that part blank.

  While I was writing, Nerys started to take some notes. I told her that I had seen someone on the television who had a job that I thought was very suitable. When I told her that it was the Commander of UK Armed Forces, she sat, with her pen poised over the pad and asked me what made me think I was suitable. I told her that I was a fearless warrior, but she kept pressing for details, so I said that I had military training but it was overseas, some time ago. Sometimes I wish I still had my flaming sword, so that I could more easily convey the magnificence of my military bearing (can’t remember when I saw it last). I thought that might sate her curiosity, but then she started to talk about concentrating on my current skill set. She looked at the form and seemed pleased that I was proficient with computers. I asked if that would be sufficient for me to run one of the large pharmaceutical or petrochemical companies. They have a great deal that needs sorting
out, in my opinion. She told me that they did not have that kind of vacancy.

  She was also dismissive of my willingness to enter politics, as Prime Minister or Secretary General of the UN. She even suggested that the Adversary had persuaded me to come in and ask stupid questions (I believe he may have made a nuisance of himself in the past). I was about to question the long-term viability of a job agency with such a narrow view of the world, when a commotion from the doorway disturbed us. Nerys’s sister Jayne was there, with Ben.

  "Oh Nerys! Something awful has happened!" said Jayne.

  Nerys stood up, clearly alarmed and asked what had happened, looking from one to the other of them. The door then crashed open and the Adversary entered, looking very pleased with himself. He held aloft the small dog known as Twinkle. The dog attempted to gnaw his horns, which I must admit made me smile.

  Nerys was confused that the Adversary was walking the dog, and suggested that it was not a good idea to bring animals into a place of work. I pointed out that the Prophet would never enter a house in which there was a dog although that just seemed to cause confusion. Nerys then turned to her sister and asked her what the matter was. A curious look passed between Ben and Jayne and then Jayne started to talk about dusty books in Ben’s shop, and the fact that some were mis-shelved. I can understand the frustration that this might cause a tidy person, but it did not seem like the kind of drama that should create such a scene and disturb my job hunting.

  Nerys took the opportunity, while were all together, to make sure that we would all attend a small ceremony at the weekend to honour her Aunt Molly. I agreed on the understanding that she would seek out some suitable employment opportunities for me.