Flights of Angels Read Online Free Page A

for the emergency rations in their joint account.
    ‘Just be patient. We’ll get there,’ he always promised with a smile and a kiss. But his words would always fall on deaf ears.
    And so, the circle of discontent continued until, one day in July, he’d come home to an empty house. And an empty bank account. Felicity Maddox had done a runner with the rations.
    There was nothing Simon could do about it except get over it and start again.
    Six months later, he was still getting over it, and it didn’t help that he couldn’t type or couldn’t spell.
    He switched the computer off, not bothering to reboot it. Stretching his arms out in front of him, he sighed heavily. He’d have to start it all again. Later. First, he’d have a cup of tea.
    He walked through to the kitchen, grimacing at the intestinal debris from his take-away the night before. He had to get himself sorted out. He opened the cupboard and took out a white mug with a lip-shaped chip before shuffling towards the tea canister. Opening it up, he delved inside, his fingers scraping the metal bottom. He’d run out of teabags.
    He rolled his eyes up to the ceiling and, in doing so, caught sight of the clock. It was ten past eight and he should have been at Kristen’s over an hour ago.

    ‘God - Simon! You look terrible!’ Kristen gasped half an hour later, ruffling his hair affectionately as he stepped into her kitchen.
    ‘Thanks,’ he said, letting her kiss him.
    ‘Are you all right?’
    He ran his fingers through his curly fair hair and sighed by way of an answer.
    ‘Oh dear,’ Kristen said. ‘Have you eaten?’
    He shook his head.
    ‘How about shepherd’s pie?’
    ‘Hey! How come I didn’t get shepherd’s pie?’ Jimmy called from the living room.
    ‘’Cause you got fish and chips!’ Kristen yelled back.
    ‘I don’t want to put you out,’ Simon said, his belly rumbling loudly at the mere mention of food.
    ‘Don’t be silly. Here,’ she said, pulling a can of Jimmy’s lager out of the fridge. ‘Go through and sit down. If you can find room.’
    Simon took a swig from his can and wandered through to the living room. He liked Cabin Cottage but could never quite work out how two people lived in such a tiny place and still got on so well with each other. He and Felicity had shared a large, three- bedroomed semi and still managed to get on each other’s nerves. Kristen and Jimmy were lucky.
    ‘Hi, Jim,’ he said, stepping carefully into the living room which looked like Whitby Harbour in miniature. ‘How’s the ship-building going?’
    Jimmy looked up from his home on the carpet and grinned. ‘Marvellous.’ He beckoned to Simon who got down on all fours to examine the latest masterpiece.
    ‘I don’t know how you do it. I just wouldn’t have the patience to work on something so small,’ Simon confessed, turning the miniature boat around in his hand, admiring each tiny detail.
    ‘Well, I couldn’t do your job,’ Jimmy said, resting on his thick denimed haunches. ‘It would drive me mad being sat in front of a computer all day.’
    ‘It’s great,’ Simon defended. ‘When it goes right.’
    Jimmy nodded as if he understood. ‘Like everything else in life.’
    Simon gave the briefest of smiles and handed the boat back to Jimmy.
    ‘God - look at you two on the carpet!’ Kristen said as she entered the room, looking at the two men in her life. ‘Just like a pair of kids!’

    ‘Well, that was a complete waste of a lager and shepherd’s pie,’ Jimmy said after Simon had left, putting his arms round Kristen’s waist and pulling her towards him.
    ‘What do you mean?’ Kristen frowned.
    ‘We didn’t get a word out of him. I’ve known budgies that talk more than him. I don’t know why you bother.’
    ‘Oh, it’s just his way.’
    ‘You know what your problem is?’
    ‘What?’
    ‘You care too much.’
    ‘Is that so bad?’ she asked, eyes widening.
    ‘It is when it makes you unhappy,’ he said, ruffling her hair