When Andrew Cawood's life begins to unravel an unlikely angel offers him a choice.

In life choices are never as easy as we would like them to be.

Part 1 of 2

The whiskey burned his throat as it went down. It wasn’t what he usually drank but the spreading warmth in his stomach told him it was what he needed. He put his glass back on the table and stared at it.

“You look like you needed that, Andy. Rough day?” The barman was smiling at him.

“You don’t know the half of it, Nick.” Andrew looked into the barman’s eyes. You could see tiredness around the edges but the lines were from laughter rather than stress. The bar was busy with a festive crowd but Andrew Cawood was a customer that he made time for.

“Let me get you another one. On the house.” Nick turned away to the row of optics and offered up a clean glass. Andrew watched him. He wouldn’t be so friendly tomorrow when they announced that Cawood Engineering, the town’s biggest employer would be sold. Everyone knew that if Global Systems got their hands on it production would be moved to Eastern Europe before the week was out. The snow that was falling outside would last a little longer than that. Global was buying the company to get it’s the patents and Andy was going to have to sell it. The factory was an inconvenience to them.

His free whiskey slid down more easily than the one before. They had that habit. They weren’t helping. The company was still going to be sold and there was nothing more he could do about it. The offer he had been forced to pass on to the shareholders would sell. There was no other way they could ever recoup their investment and in the current economic climate how could they possibly refuse.

He looked at his empty glass and pulled out his wallet. He seemed to come to a decision and he dropped a twenty pound note on the counter. Nick was serving someone else so he walked quietly out of the bar. It was at times like this that the need rose in him. He couldn’t face anyone with the need so strong. He had nowhere to go. No refuge. He needed a trip, some privacy in a hotel room but right now, when he was the centre of attention in a hostile takeover, he had nowhere to go. He walked away from the tinselled tumult of the pub, past his car and turned left towards the river. There was snow falling and the cold cut through his suit jacket, dispelling the warmth of the whiskey and the pub. He didn’t care. He wasn’t going to need it.

The footbridge over the river was quiet. No-one in their right minds would be out in this weather, which said a lot about his state of mind. He walked unsteadily out to the middle of the bridge and looked over. In the whirling snow the water below was oblivion black. He shivered as he took hold of a cable, pulling himself up and his legs over the handrail. The cold of the metal rail bit into his legs as he steadied his breathing. In his jacket pocket his phone vibrated and a cheery ring tone told him it was Emma. He pulled it out and looked at the picture that came up on the screen. A tear ran down his cheek as he pressed the cancel button and threw he phone away from him. He knew that Emma would be putting their daughters to bed, calling him in the hope that he could give the girls a good night message of love. He couldn’t face it. He needed to keep his resolve. He closed his eyes. The picture that came into his mind was not his wife and children, but himself, walking away from that afternoon’s meeting with the investment they needed. In the image Andrew’s hair was pulled back, she wore a straight skirt and a matching jacket. She had been successful because, for the first time in her life, she had been able to concentrate fully on the task in hand, without the constant distraction of knowing that she was the wrong person, in the wrong body at the wrong time. There was no way back and no way of fixing it. There was no hope.

He felt a thump in his back, propelling him towards the water. His hand slipped on the bridge cable and he began to topple forward, the blackness spreading itself out to envelop him.

“Saved Ya!” a voice screeched in his ear and then a pair of arms wrapped themselves around his middle and, taking advantage if his momentary imbalance, pulled him backwards. They tumbled together into the snow. Andrew was aware that he had the softer landing. He flailed his arm out and rolled to get off the body below him. He hauled himself to his feet struggling for breath and his dignity.

“Who asked you to save me? I didn’t need saving. I was just taking a look at the river.” He tailed off as he got a look at his tackler. She was dressed in black and stood out against the snow.

“Yeah, right. You don’t have to do all that for me. I’m not from round here. You don’t have an image to protect. You were going to jump, weren’t you?” She moved towards him, not at all ruffled by having him land on her, kohl ringed eyes locked on his, an admonitory finger thrust up into his face.

“You don’t know that. I might have been admiring the view. It’s a stunning one from here, you know.” Even as he said it he wished the words back in. Swirls of snow around street lights were all that could be seen beyond the bridge ends.

“Nice try. Want another go? ” There was something about her smile that drew him in. It carried something stronger too. A message that here was someone he should confide in. He was puzzled by it.

“Alright. I was thinking about jumping. I don’t know if I would have done it though.”

“You would have. I was sent to save you.”

“I would...? You were sent to...? Who sent you?”

“Can’t tell you. Not allowed to confirm or deny the presence of a higher power.”

“Higher power? Who are you?”

“Cassiopeia, AC2.” She waved a hand at him, as if he mid=gth shake it, but withdrew it before he could.

“What? Who?”

“Cassiopeia, I’m an AC2.”

“Cassio...? Hey, what’s an AC2?”

“Angel, second class.”

“You’re an angel? You don’t look much like an angel. Aren’t they supposed to be white? And where’s your wings?”

“Don’t got no wings. Look.” She did a twirl, hitching up her long black skirt and going onto her points. The effect was spoiled by her long black laced up kick-the-door-down boots. The back of her black lace blouse was wing free. “I get wings when I make the next grade. Class one. I love having wings. I’ve been promoted three times.”

Andrew shivered. Suddenly he was really cold. “What are you doing here, anyway? What do you want with me.”

“I came to save you. You are my challenge.”

“I don’t want saving. I want to die. I’ve let everyone down, I’m worth more to my family dead and I really do hate myself and there isn’t any way out of it.”

“I bet you don’t really hate yourself. I bet that you think if we changed one thing about you’d love yourself again.”

“Why would you say that?” Andrew gave her a long, suspicious look.

“Come off it. I’m an angel. I now lots of things. You’d better get your head round this. Angels are here to help you. You don’t have a guardian angel because there are just too many of you these days, but we do try to be there for the good ones when we can.”

“You think I’m one of the good ones? I’ve deceived my family, I’ve lost the business my father built up and the new owner’ll put half the town out of work after Christmas.”

“You care. You’re main concern in all of this hasn’t been your own reward, but the whole business. You put your family and your employees before your own needs all the time. We don’t want to see that drive you to your death. I can help you, but you have to tell me how.”

“You’ll think I’m loopy.”

“Nah. Not allowed to. Anyway, I already know. You have to tell me. I can’t do anything for you unless you tell me. Make a wish, if you like.”

“I wish I’d been born a woman.”

“That’s it?”

“I’ve screwed this life up because I’ve never really managed to be happy. I know if I hadn’t been constantly fighting with who I am I would have made a much better job of it.”

“That’s easy then. Much easier then wishing you’d never been born. Isn’t there a pub over there?”

“Yes. It’s just round the corner.”

“Let’s go and get a drink then.”

“That’s it? Aren’t you going to grant my wish or anything?”

“Don’t you think I would, if I could?” Cassiopeia started walking off the bridge. Andrew found himself need a short run to keep up.

“What was all that about then?”

“All what?”

“Making me wish when you couldn’t grant it.”

“I could grant it.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

“I did.”

“You...” Andrew looked down. This body wasn’t his. He had a body that was capable of running three miles in the morning before breakfast. This body hadn’t so much as run for a bus for several years. If she was ever going to run anywhere now she would need a serious sports bra. On the plus side she was dressed more warmly now. Ugg boots, jeans, several sweaters and a down jacket suggested that she had been more prepared for the weather this morning. She could feel her bra binding under the mass of clothes. She pulled on the angel’s arm.

“What have you done? Who am I?”

“You’re you. The you that you would have been if you’d been born a girl.”

“I thought I’d be younger. I’ve missed all the best bit.”

“No you haven’t. You were born a girl. That means you’ve lived it all already. You can remember it.”

Andrew was silent for a minute. She struggled for a moment to hold two conflicting sets of memories in her head, and then they stopped fighting, and lay in her head side by side. She found that she could slide easily between the two. She was Jayne, a contented woman, but she could somehow shift her focus and she was once again Andrew, a man with a massive conflict and a rage that he continually had to suppress. She looked in confusion at the angel.

“What’s going on, how can I be two people at once?”

“You aren’t, you’re just you. You’re two different you’s. The you that you have always wanted, no that’s wrong isn’t it? Needed to be, and the you that you were."

“Why am I both?”

“I want to give you chance to try the other you on. To see what you and your life would have been like.”

“You’re giving me what I always wanted. Why are you doing it this way?”

“It is a huge difference. I thought you should see both sides for a little while. It might affect how you feel about it.”

“But if I have become who I always was, wanted to be, the other me won’t have existed and I won’t know about him. Why would I even think twice about choosing?”

“You aren’t thinking straight. It’s not that easy. You have lived that life. I can’t take you back to live a new one. I can’t remove your past. It will always live on for you, a story that you will know but can never tell. So you have to have the chance to undo it before it is too late. Come on. Let’s take a look at this new world where you were always a woman. Is that bar along this way?”

“It’s not far. If you’re cold, why don’t you fly us there?”

“No wings, remember?”

“Oh, yes, you lost them. Trust me to get an incomplete angel. How did you lose them, anyway?”

“I was busted. It’s the third time. I can’t help it. I see something interesting and lose focus or get too close to someone and screw up. Then they bust me back down and I have to start again.”

“And I’m your promotion project?”

“Yes and no. If everything works out for you I’ll get promoted again and have some coolio wings. But that’s not why I’m here. I’d be here, doing this, whether I could get promoted or not. We have syempathy, you and I.”

“Syempathy?”

“It’s a good word, isn’t it?”

“It might be, if I knew what it meant?”

“It’s new. It’s sort of a cross between sympathy and empathy. It means we understand how each other are and want to help each other.”

“You mean, you know about the feelings I’ve always had?”

“Yes. I had them myself, once.”

“Angels get gender dysphoria? I don’t know if I can believe you.”

“I wasn’t an angel then. I was a boy, except that I wasn’t, really.”

“Then how did you become...?”

“I was standing where you were one day. But there weren’t angels spare to look after me and I jumped.”

“When I last went to church they told me that was a direct route through to hell.”

“What did they know? The scriptures were written by some fat old men who, if they lived today, would wear suits and advise governments.”

“So if I’d jumped I’d have become an angel?”

“Not necessarily. It depends a lot of other factors. I don’t really know what the progression was. I just knew that I’d made a lot of people very unhappy and I wanted to help people. Next thing I know I’m an angel.”

“You don’t look much like an angel.”

“You said that already. Can’t angels be Goths? Is that in a scripture too?”

“No, I, er, I didn’t...”

“It’s alright. Just teasing. I can look however I like. It’s one of the good things about the job. If I concentrate hard I can get promoted again and then I’ll be promoted up to AC1. Archangel,” she explained, catching sight of the look on Jayne’s face. “I do good at that and I get to go up to another level of existence.”

“What’s that like?”

“I don’t know. Don’t know if I want to. I kinda like it here.”

“You didn’t get demoted by accident, did you?”

“I’m not going to answer that question. Oh look, there’s the pub. Are you going to buy me drink for saving you?” Cassiopeia pushed the door open and stood aside to let Jayne through. The bar looked as if nothing had been invested in it for years. It was quiet and her feet stuck to the carpet as she walked to the bar. A dejected length of tinsel ran the length of a bar that badly needed a wipe down. Jayne barely noticed. The inner joy that had been bubbling in her since she had become aware of her change powered her to the bar.

“I’ll have my usual, please, Nick, and what do you want, Cassieopeia?”

“Just call me Cass,” the angel whispered, taking hold of her arm. “I’ll have a snowball, please.”

“That’s enough of the comedy act.” Nick gave them a sour look. “How would I know your usual? You've never been in here before. I haven’t got all night.”

“A whiskey, please, Nick, and a...” Jayne looked at Cass.

“You really don’t have snowballs?”

“Do we look like the kind of bar that serves snowballs? What you see is what we got. Are you old enough to be in here?”

“I’m much older than I look. Just give me a coke, please, then you don’t have to worry.”
Jayne unzipped her jacket, snagging it in her bag strap on the down.

“This is strange. I have all these new memories but I’m struggling to remember some simple things.”

“You’ll soon get the hang of it. Anything you’re not sure about. Just ask me. It’s why I’m still here.”

“Well, I do have to pop to the toilet.”

“I’m not helping with that. You won’t have any trouble. I’ll be out here, getting the drinks.”

The Ladies toilet was far from clean and it was unheated. Jayne suppressed the urge to check out her new anatomy. She was tempted but between the cold and her new memories making everything feel familiar it didn’t seem important. She made sure she touched the fewest possible surfaces as she left the cubicle, pausing to study her reflection in the mirror. She was herself. Her face was recognisable, rounder and softer, Andrew hiding behind trimmed eyebrows and a wider mouth. Her body was rounded in the places he had always wanted it to be and more. She was carrying weight, and her clothes were cut for comfort and cold weather. They weren’t the stylish clothes that Andrew would have chosen. She probed her memories and found some of a younger Jayne, a party girl who had definitely glammed herself up. She smiled at her reflection and liked what she saw.

In the bar, Cass was waiting for her at a small table in the middle of the room. The pub was quiet, making her the centre of attention. Jayne sat down on an uncomfortable stool.

“What’s happened to this place, it’s changed?”

“I thought we might come to that. You’ve got two sets of memories in your head, haven’t you?”

“I’m not sure they really feel like two sets. My old memories have sort of pushed over in my head. This life’s memories are the strong ones now. My old life has sort of shunted sideways and it’s like a story someone told me.”

“For a limited time you can shunt them either way. You can choose which life you remember.”

“But I know which life I want. I mean, I’m not as fit as I was, and I have a lot less money, but I’m who I should always have been.”

“That’s not the point. You’re the person you always could have been. Genitals don’t make as much difference to who people are as the papers would have you think. But if you have that basic unease with your identity then it affects the choices you make about your life. Many people have their lives destroyed by the disconnection. Others are driven by it and make more of their lives. You are one of the lucky ones. I’m giving you a choice, but it wouldn’t be fair to have to make the choice without all the information. So we’re going to make a tour. We’re going to take a look at both lives so that you can choose properly.”

“But how can you do that?”

“I’m an angel. Didn’t I tell you?” Cass put her tongue out. It gave her a cheekily demonic look.

“Yes. You said, but how does it work?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Don’t you think I can understand it?”

“It’s not you, it’s me. I don’t understand it. That’s why I can’t tell you?”

“Have you put anything in that coke?”

“No. I’m like this naturally. Drink up now, we’ve got a long way to go.” Cass swallowed her drink and stood up, twirling around on her chunky booted heels.

“Oi! Pack it in. You’ll break the furniture.” Nick, the barman, gave her a sour look from the other side of the bar.

“Don’t you allow happy in here?”

“Never heard of it.” Cass made a face at him, took hold of Jayne’s arm and turned towards a door in the side wall of the bar. Jayne didn’t remember there being a door here before, but she let herself be led through it.