The Guardian Angel by Liam Livings

Author:Liam Livings
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: guardian angel, angel, gay romance, mm romance
Publisher: RJ Scott

Chapter 20

Amy and I sat in a café round the corner from her office, having just ordered toasted sandwiches with white sliced bread and stringy cheese.

“Probably right, babes.” She took a mouthful of the cheese-and-ham toastie, which the waiter had just dropped off. “Delicious. I always forget how nice evil white bread is. It’s just so much more… comforting than that wholewheat, healthy stuff.”

“I know. That’s why I don’t have it. Penance bread, that’s what that is.”

“How many applications are you doing a day?”

“I spend the morning, say from nine to one, doing them: looking through websites, calling agencies, that sort of thing. Then I have lunch, and I can’t bear it any longer. I literally feel part of my soul leaving my body through my ears. It’s like it drips out every day I carry on with this process.”

“Dramatic, much, Richard?”

“You have no idea.”

“And then what do you do with yourself for the rest of the day?”

“The flat’s immaculate—you should see it. You’d learn a bit from that, actually. You and all your organic, free-range, all-natural cleaning products. Your place could do with a good squirt of bleach, last time I visited.”

“Cheeky! You leaving the flat still, getting fresh air? Not just sitting on the sofa, vegetating and stewing about you and Bobby and all the problems that creates in your head?”

“Every day I have a walk, at least around the block. Most of the time, farther. Once a week I nip round Mum’s, see how she’s getting on. She’s back cooking her own food now. Told me if she ate one more ‘Go On, Treat Yourself’ ready meal, she would throw it out the window. Even Sandra Next Door couldn’t stop her making her own food again.”

“Back to her usual self, is she?”

“She made a three-course lunch last week. I could hardly walk to the bus stop to get home.”

“When you’re not being force-fed by your mum or walking around the block, what do you do until Bobby comes home?”

“Watch TV. Sit on the sofa. Think about my life, the universe, my relationship. Everything, really”

“As I suspected.” She looked at my plate, at my half-eaten toastie. “You gonna finish that?”

“Not hungry. Go on, have it.” I pushed the plate to her side of the table.

“What’s wrong, Richard? Really, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know how to explain it. I don’t want to come across like I’m complaining all the time. I know inside that I’m very lucky. That him living with me is what we wanted, and it did come along at the right time. But I can’t shake this feeling that I don’t understand why he’s living with me. Why would anyone want to live with me when no one wants to employ me?”

“Ah, so that’s what this is about.”

“Sometimes after I’ve done the job-hunting for the day, I just sit on the sofa and cry quietly to myself. I can’t put my finger on what I’m crying about. I have this sense of dread, but about what, I’m not sure.

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