Angel and the Assassin

Angel laughing as he walked
    toward the lift.
    The supermarket was almost empty, making it easier to gather the items he
    wanted; still Kael had no idea what to buy to construct macaroni-cheese. In the end
    he bought a ready-made frozen package, then wandered around picking up fruit and
    salad vegetables and cheese. Angel had said he wanted mashed potatoes.
    What the hell am I doing wandering around a supermarket trying to find foods
    a teenager will like? Chocolate digestives, milk—Christ!—he probably wants hot
    dogs, things like that.
    At the tills, with a trolley loaded with items he would never buy for himself, he
    looked at the two cashiers on duty, a middle-aged man and a teenage girl with
    appalling makeup and dyed hair. The girl would be more likely to know. She smiled
    shyly at him when he strode toward her. He leaned in close, feeling ridiculous.
    “What‟s an anime magazine?”
    She pointed at the racks of magazines beside the conveyor belt. “ Neo . At the
    end.”
    It was the strangest thing he‟d ever seen, a magazine full of odd cartoon
    characters with enormous eyes and spiky hair. “This?” She nodded. Kael tossed it on
    the conveyor belt. He couldn‟t wait to get out of there.

    Angel and the Assassin
    89

    The car park was nearly empty, and as always Kael had parked his small,
    unobtrusive vehicle well away from any other cars. He scanned the dark, poorly lit
    area as soon as he walked through the automatic doors. At the far end of the yard, a
    dark blue four-door stood with the engine and lights off, but Kael could clearly see
    an occupant sitting behind the wheel. His neck prickled. Something was not right.
    Striding to his car, he quickly packed the plastic grocery bags into the boot and got
    into the driver‟s seat without ever looking directly at the blue vehicle, giving no
    indication that he had seen anything untoward.
    With the rearview mirror angled to take a better look, he focused on the dark
    car and the driver sitting, unmoving, watching him. It was Conran. Kael‟s excellent
    visual acuity easily picked out the shape of his head and a slight movement of his
    hand that was uniquely Conran‟s. Kael drove off, watching him in his rearview
    mirror. Conran didn‟t follow, but still Kael drove around for twenty minutes to
    ensure he was alone before returning home, where he dumped the bags on the floor
    to open the front door.
    “Daddy?” Angel came to the door wearing a white T-shirt that he had obviously
    taken from Kael‟s wardrobe. It reached his midthighs and was loose and baggy.
    “Did you hide my clothes? I‟m cold.”
    “Yes, take these bags. Be quick. Put everything away.”
    Inside he bolted the door and carried out a hurried sweep of the flat. He was
    on his knees running his hand along the underside of the couch when he looked up
    to find Angel watching him with the magazine in his hand and a “what the hell are
    you doing” look on his face. “Daddy, I put the mac and cheese in the microwave.”
    “Right.” Kael got to his feet.
    “This is the coolest magazine in the world.” He held it up, smiling to show how
    happy he was. “I love Neo , and it‟s hard to find at home.”
    Distracted by the nagging sense of being followed, the image of the car in the
    car park still lodged in his mind, he continued to check for listening devices and
    cameras while Angel followed him. “Did anyone knock on the door while I was
    gone?”
    “No. Why don‟t you have a phone, Daddy?”
    “I do, just not a landline.” Kael went to the wall and pressed a button. With a
    low humming sound the blinds dropped slowly over the windows. Worried and
    agitated, Kael turned on Angel. “You look like a little girl in that T-shirt.”
    Angel pouted. “Well, give me my clothes back then.”
    “Watch your tone when you talk to me! Go and set the table.” Kael continued
    his sweep, ignoring the boy, but he shouldn‟t have snapped at him.
    “Yes, Sir. Shall we sit at the dining room table for a change?”
    “No, we‟ll eat in the kitchen.”
    “God forbid we should drop a crumb on the floor,” Angel said, walking away.
    Already anxious, Kael‟s temper flared again. He was behind Angel in three long

    90
    Fyn Alexander

    strides, grabbing him by the arms and hauling him round to face him. “I‟ll give you
    a good hiding if you use that tone with me again.”
    Angel‟s face contorted into a confused glare.
    Kael released him, watching as the red finger marks he had