Status: Actuve (=
Angels and Rain
Six.
“Mornin’ lazy arse” I greeted Kiaity cheerfully as she came into the kitchen looking like death.
“Watch it, Ryves. A night on the floor has not been kind to me.” She plopped down on a chair and
started spreading jam on her newspaper.
“You look stoned” I told her helpfully.
“Oh, cheers then, Layn.” She got up again and boiled the kettle.
“I suppose you know that you’re jamming your paper.”
“Shit!” She held up a copy of the dripping Telegraph, with Gordon Brown now sporting a fantastic red
moustache. “I was going to eat that!”
“Normal people eat toast for breakfast, but if you feel the urge for a quick morning paper…” I shrugged.
“Toast it is, then.”
“Notice the ‘normal’ in that sentence, please.”
Very primary school, but funny all the same.
“Oh haha.” She threw a dishcloth at me. Then paused, pulling up the same chair and resuming her
seat opposite me. “Seriously, though, what’s his name?”
“Pardon?”
She leaned across the table grinning. “You know.”
“Erm, can’t say I do, I’m afraid”
She laughed. “Okay, so you’re not ready to tell me yet. But someone called you last night, I heard you
talking.”
“Ah, that!” What? What? She was dead to the world when I got that phone call.
“Yes, that!”
“That wasn’t a guy”
“Was is a girl?”
“No!”
“Sure?” She asked, pulling an irritating face.
“Yes!”
“Hmm… So who called you then?”
“I don’t know!”
“You must! People don’t ring you just for the hell of it!”
“Prank callers do.” I sounded like an annoyed toddler. The sound of it shocked me.
“And was it?”
“Well, no,” I was now rather confused and my tongue was doing an odd fandango and threatening to
knot itself. “It was a wrong number.” Someone called up and tried to make an appointment at
Specsavers.”
Kiaity’s eyebrows disappeared beneath her fringe and her mouth dropped slightly. I resisted the urge
to stick the dishcloth in there and take a photo.
“Specsavers? We haven’t got a Specsavers here.”
Damn!
“No, that made it all the more weird.”
Thank God for thinking on your feet.
“And why were they calling at a time so early I wasn’t even aware it existed?” The kettle finished boiling
and announced it with a small click as the switch flew back up just as I said “Kiaity, any time beyond
three in the afternoon is way out of your time zone. I dunno why they were calling then. It may have
been a vampire.”
She got out of her seat and poured the water into a teapot and made us both a mug.
“Hel, vampires aren’t nocturnal, you know. They do come about during the day with their umbrellas.”
She sat back down with an annoying grin on her face. You might have thought some plastic surgeon
had nipped in here and done something to her mouth to make it stay there.
“I’ve told you, I don’t know!”
“Course, Hel, course”
I sat back on my seat. It was just another coincidence. They were looking for another Helaynia Ryves.
Or a Helena. It wasn’t me they wanted.
Think that.
“Imagine a vampire with glasses!” She laughed into her glass of fruit juice.
“I’m sure they have eye problems too, they aren’t superhuman, you know.”
“Oooh, get you!” She said in a high pitched camp accent. She recovered just long enough to look
vacant. “Didn’t that one that got Delilah have glasses?”
“Nah, his brother did. He was normal enough. Human.”
“Poor thing.” She sighed, stirring her orange juice with a teaspoon. I didn’t ask. Then she said
something which really shocked me.
“Kata Stewharney’s dead.”
“You're joking.” I told her, setting my tea mug down on the pine table with a loud clunk. “Kiaity
Reynolds, you are pulling my leg.”
“I’m not!” She rose her hands in a mock surrender gesture.
“Don’t believe you.”
“Hel, would I lie about something like that?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Because you’re evil and twisted?”
She still looked at me like I was missing out on something obvious. I began to cotton on.
“Really?”
Kia nodded.
Kata Stewharney had been at school with us a few years ago. I hadn’t seen her for some time. In fact,
we were in the process of organizing a time to get together. I should really have guessed something
was up when she didn’t reply to my last letter. Kata has always kept in touch.
“Do they know how?”
“Another bloody disappearance. That tramp from outside Woolies has gone too.”
“So has Woolies.”
“The tramp from outside the building that used to be Woolies has gone, too.”
“I never noticed him.”
“Her. Christ, Laynia, where have you been for the past few years?!”
“My own personal hell, 17 Shit Street, Arseville, MN1 6LT”
“Ah, “She tapped the side of her nose. “I get you.”
That’s the thing, you can never be too sure with Kiaity. When she says ‘I get you’, it means ‘I don’t
know what you’re talking about, so I’m going to let my warped mind think of something instead.’
“More tea?” She waved a tea pot with arms and legs and the words ‘I’m a little Teapot’ written on the
side in my face. Fetching.
“Er, no thanks.” I pushed the obscene and rather scary piece of pottery away.
“Why not? You used to love tea!”
“Yeah, I’m rather put off by the pot grinning at me in that way.”
“Watch it, Ryves. A night on the floor has not been kind to me.” She plopped down on a chair and
started spreading jam on her newspaper.
“You look stoned” I told her helpfully.
“Oh, cheers then, Layn.” She got up again and boiled the kettle.
“I suppose you know that you’re jamming your paper.”
“Shit!” She held up a copy of the dripping Telegraph, with Gordon Brown now sporting a fantastic red
moustache. “I was going to eat that!”
“Normal people eat toast for breakfast, but if you feel the urge for a quick morning paper…” I shrugged.
“Toast it is, then.”
“Notice the ‘normal’ in that sentence, please.”
Very primary school, but funny all the same.
“Oh haha.” She threw a dishcloth at me. Then paused, pulling up the same chair and resuming her
seat opposite me. “Seriously, though, what’s his name?”
“Pardon?”
She leaned across the table grinning. “You know.”
“Erm, can’t say I do, I’m afraid”
She laughed. “Okay, so you’re not ready to tell me yet. But someone called you last night, I heard you
talking.”
“Ah, that!” What? What? She was dead to the world when I got that phone call.
“Yes, that!”
“That wasn’t a guy”
“Was is a girl?”
“No!”
“Sure?” She asked, pulling an irritating face.
“Yes!”
“Hmm… So who called you then?”
“I don’t know!”
“You must! People don’t ring you just for the hell of it!”
“Prank callers do.” I sounded like an annoyed toddler. The sound of it shocked me.
“And was it?”
“Well, no,” I was now rather confused and my tongue was doing an odd fandango and threatening to
knot itself. “It was a wrong number.” Someone called up and tried to make an appointment at
Specsavers.”
Kiaity’s eyebrows disappeared beneath her fringe and her mouth dropped slightly. I resisted the urge
to stick the dishcloth in there and take a photo.
“Specsavers? We haven’t got a Specsavers here.”
Damn!
“No, that made it all the more weird.”
Thank God for thinking on your feet.
“And why were they calling at a time so early I wasn’t even aware it existed?” The kettle finished boiling
and announced it with a small click as the switch flew back up just as I said “Kiaity, any time beyond
three in the afternoon is way out of your time zone. I dunno why they were calling then. It may have
been a vampire.”
She got out of her seat and poured the water into a teapot and made us both a mug.
“Hel, vampires aren’t nocturnal, you know. They do come about during the day with their umbrellas.”
She sat back down with an annoying grin on her face. You might have thought some plastic surgeon
had nipped in here and done something to her mouth to make it stay there.
“I’ve told you, I don’t know!”
“Course, Hel, course”
I sat back on my seat. It was just another coincidence. They were looking for another Helaynia Ryves.
Or a Helena. It wasn’t me they wanted.
Think that.
“Imagine a vampire with glasses!” She laughed into her glass of fruit juice.
“I’m sure they have eye problems too, they aren’t superhuman, you know.”
“Oooh, get you!” She said in a high pitched camp accent. She recovered just long enough to look
vacant. “Didn’t that one that got Delilah have glasses?”
“Nah, his brother did. He was normal enough. Human.”
“Poor thing.” She sighed, stirring her orange juice with a teaspoon. I didn’t ask. Then she said
something which really shocked me.
“Kata Stewharney’s dead.”
“You're joking.” I told her, setting my tea mug down on the pine table with a loud clunk. “Kiaity
Reynolds, you are pulling my leg.”
“I’m not!” She rose her hands in a mock surrender gesture.
“Don’t believe you.”
“Hel, would I lie about something like that?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Because you’re evil and twisted?”
She still looked at me like I was missing out on something obvious. I began to cotton on.
“Really?”
Kia nodded.
Kata Stewharney had been at school with us a few years ago. I hadn’t seen her for some time. In fact,
we were in the process of organizing a time to get together. I should really have guessed something
was up when she didn’t reply to my last letter. Kata has always kept in touch.
“Do they know how?”
“Another bloody disappearance. That tramp from outside Woolies has gone too.”
“So has Woolies.”
“The tramp from outside the building that used to be Woolies has gone, too.”
“I never noticed him.”
“Her. Christ, Laynia, where have you been for the past few years?!”
“My own personal hell, 17 Shit Street, Arseville, MN1 6LT”
“Ah, “She tapped the side of her nose. “I get you.”
That’s the thing, you can never be too sure with Kiaity. When she says ‘I get you’, it means ‘I don’t
know what you’re talking about, so I’m going to let my warped mind think of something instead.’
“More tea?” She waved a tea pot with arms and legs and the words ‘I’m a little Teapot’ written on the
side in my face. Fetching.
“Er, no thanks.” I pushed the obscene and rather scary piece of pottery away.
“Why not? You used to love tea!”
“Yeah, I’m rather put off by the pot grinning at me in that way.”