He sat back in the armchair and looked around the room. It was nice - such a nondescript word that could be, but yes, it was nice. Healthy plants on a table against the wall, comfortable furniture, a couple of nice prints on the wall opposite the telly.
She came back into the living room with two mugs of hot coffee and then disappeared back into the kitchen, returning with two plates and what looked like a freshly baked cake. It looked good.
Elizabeth offered the cake plate to him, eyebrows raised in a silent 'will you have some?'
"Yes please, it looks good - did you make it?"
"I made it this morning, I like to bake. Here you are then."
He took a bite of the cake - absolutely delicious! He hadn't had anything that tasted that good for a very long time. He took a sip of the coffee, yes, perked coffee, none of your instant stuff here! Really good coffee too. He mustn't get side-tracked though. He was here for a reason, still, good background stuff.
"So, Miss Snow, when did you first see these, er, these....."
"Elizabeth, please! The helpers? About two years ago. My dog used to see them long before that, of course, animals can, can't they? She used to suddenly gaze upwards towards the ceiling, but I couldn't see anything myself at that time."
"So, why do you think you were suddenly able to see them, when you hadn't been able to see them before?" He took another sip of coffee and another bite of cake - it really was exceptionally good!
"I'm not sure really, I suppose I just wasn't ready, mentally or emotionally, before, but then, after prayer and meditation, I started to see them - fleetingly at first, the edge of a garment floating past my face, a sense of another being in the room, a smell of perfume - not an earthly perfume, such a beautiful smell, I can't describe it."
She also sipped her coffee and had some cake - Elizabeth enjoyed good coffee and cake, it was one of her favourite things.
He wrote his notes in between sips of coffee and included his impressions of Elizabeth Snow. She seemed sane enough, but can you ever really tell? He had to admit she was quite attractive, not in an obvious, blowsy way, but subtle details: the way she wore her hair, to her shoulders, curly, dark auburn, no grey yet, unless she coloured it. Her clothes suited her, not just her appearance, but they suited the character he was starting to understand. She was a kind person, he thought, and intelligent. Plus, she was thoughtful - she'd asked him if he would feel comfortable interviewing her in her home, or if he'd feel better in a neutral place - his office, or a restaurant? But he'd wanted to interview her in her home to get a feel, silly journalistic phrase, but actually spot on. Atmosphere was very important and he always trusted his instincts, he'd learnt that early on. Regardless of what the Editor might do with the story, he always wrote it as he saw it, he was true to his craft and always strove for honesty. Unusual these days, but true.
Elizabeth looked him straight in the eye and smiled at him.
"This must seem very strange to you, Simon! I expect you think I'm quite mad! But I learnt long ago that I can't control what other people think or do, I can only control what I think and do. I always try to keep an open mind - I suppose that's why they revealed themselves to me. Would you like another piece of cake?"
"Yes please! How big are these helpers?"
"They're about the size of my dog, actually, although much slimmer and without the fur." Her eyes twinkled as she talked. She had a mischievousness about her that was almost irresistible. Pity she was so much older than him, he found her very comfortable to be around. He thought he'd like her for a friend, he felt sure she'd be a faithful, non-judgmental friend, a rare commodity.
"Talking of which, I'll let her up now. She doesn't like it when new people come to the house, it takes her a while to warm up to them, but she's heard your voice for a while now and I think she'll be O.K. Don't worry, she's not vicious, she just barks at people she doesn't know." And with that Elizabeth opened the door from the kitchen into the conservatory and in came a long-haired dog, fairly short to the ground, looked rather like a Pomeranian, but not quite. The dog approached him, sniffed his trousers, then ran over to Elizabeth and jumped onto the sofa next to her.
"She's a Pomeranian-cross. Her name's Tess." said Elizabeth.
"Right. So, does Tess bark at the helpers?"
"No, she never has. But she's been seeing them for a long time and doesn't take much notice of them any more. At first she was a little alarmed, as was I! When she saw them flying around the living room, hovering just below the ceiling, she didn't know what to make of them. But once she realized they weren't going to hurt us or the cats, she just ignored them."
"Are they female, or male?"
"Both genders. They're very attractive beings and very kind. Their whole object in life is to help animals and people whenever possible."
"Hmmmm. What do they eat? Do they eat anything?"
"They eat flowers and fruits and vegetables and they particularly like marigolds."
"So, how do they help animals and people exactly?"
"Animals see them more easily than people, of course. Animals aren't taught to ignore their senses like we are, so animals are easier for them to help than people. They try to divert them from danger - sometimes they hover over the animal and hide the animal with their wings, then people, or predatory animals, can't see the animal they're hiding. It's very interesting to see! It's a bit like the 91st Psalm actually! "
He shall cover thee with His feathers and under His wings shalt thou trust."
"91st Psalm - hmmm. I must admit, I'm not a church goer."
"Neither am I Simon. But every day I read my Bible and the 91st Psalm is one of the Psalms that I stand on daily, for protection, you know."
"Oh - no, I don't know. You do seem to have led a charmed life, Elizabeth. My Editor has told me a few stories about your life. As he's a friend of yours I was very excited when he asked me to interview you. Usually this type of thing (his face grew a little pink as he said this) is covered by Tony, but he's on vacation at present. I'm glad to have this opportunity." This last part was added in an attempt at reassurance.
"Don't worry about it, Simon, I'm pleased to talk to you. I know this all sounds more than strange and most people won't believe it when they read it. But your Editor, and my friend, felt the story was interesting and should be told, so here we are."
"Yes, right, well, did the helpers come here to help you or Tess? If that's what their objective is."
"I have some feral cats, plus some dumped domestic cats too. One of the cats was going through an emotional time of it, the cat's particular friend had just passed away and it was grieving for him. The cat's called Henry and the one who passed away was called Timmy. Henry and Timmy went everywhere together and when Timmy died, Henry took it very hard. You do realize that animals grieve, don't you? For each other and for humans that they've loved?"
Right on cue, a cat walked into the room and jumped onto the back of the sofa, where he could view the room, and look out of the window whenever he wanted to.
"This is Henry, Simon. Oh, and that one's called Ginger, for obvious reasons!" Just then, a ginger tabby entered the room - completely sure of himself, the ginger cat went right up to Simon and rubbed his face on Simon's trouser-leg.
"Oh - that's a good sign. He's always friendly but not usually that friendly with someone he's never met before. Do you like cats, Simon?"
"Yes, I do. We always had a cat when I was a child; I grew up in Cornwall. I don't have one now, but I think maybe I should get one. I live alone and it would be so nice to come home to a cat - is that selfish of me, do you think?"
"Not at all, Simon, as long as you look after the cat's emotional as well as physical needs. They need love and attention just like us, of course. There are plenty of cats looking for good homes. I could get you a cat very easily if you want one, Simon, but you'd have to promise to get it spayed or neutered - so many unwanted animals in the world!" She smiled warmly at him and he felt his heart melt. Not in a lustful or romantic way, but in a warm, enveloping way. Her whole persona spoke of kindness and consideration. But what about these 'helpers' - surely they couldn't really exist?
He sat back in his chair and crossed his legs. His mind was working overtime - he must stay detached! He had to get to the facts of this matter.
"What did the helpers do then, for Henry?" he asked.
"It turns out that two of them stayed with him the whole time he was grieving. It took a couple of years, you know. Timmy is buried in the back garden and Henry used to go up there and lie on his grave. They hugged him and kept him company and spoke words of kindness and comfort to him."
"They speak? Do you talk to them?"
"Oh yes, they speak very softly, their voices are melodious, musical voices, very pleasant to listen to. No harsh tones in their speech, no shouting, no anger, just kind, comforting words." Elizabeth smiled again.
"Would you like another cup of coffee, Simon?"
"Yes please - very good coffee, by the way."
"I'm glad you like it, it's organic, of course, wouldn't buy anything else. Everything tastes much better without chemicals in it, don't you think? Why would we put chemicals into our bodies when there's an alternative?"
He hadn't thought of it that way before, he really should start buying organic produce, he thought.
"Are there any helpers in here at the moment?" he asked, looking up towards the ceiling.
Elizabeth smiled again and put her face into her coffee cup. Sophie and Eggie had been hovering over Simon the whole time he'd been there.
"Yes, Simon, there are two helpers in here at the moment."
"Is that because your dog or cats need help of some kind?"
"No, not exactly. These two have become close friends to us and often drop in for a visit. Oh dear, Eggie is eating the daffodils again. Eggie dear, please don't eat those! I brought those in to brighten up my room! Oh, O.K. just the one then....."
Simon looked over to the bookcase where the daffodils were and to his absolute astonishment he saw one daffodil coming out of the vase, going upwards, and slowly disappearing, as if it was being eaten....
'Did she put something in the coffee? Am I hallucinating? No, Jim, the Editor, wouldn't be friends with Elizabeth if she were dangerous.'
"I think I have enough for a story here, Elizabeth, I think Ishould be going now! Thank you for the coffee and cake and thank you for talking to me. I've enjoyed my visit." Simon was surprised to hear himself say this, he'd never said it before and he'd done hundreds of interviews. The truth was that he had enjoyed his visit, very much. He felt calmer, tranquil even....
"Well, if you need any more information, you have my phone number. And if you're in this area and want some coffee, please come and see me, Simon." This was said with warmth, it wasn't just a parting phrase, and Simon knew she meant it.
"I will. Thank you, Elizabeth." And Simon knew that he'd be visiting again and he knew they would become friends.
Simon put his coat on and felt something brush past his face. He looked up and saw, what was that? Just a glimpse, something pretty, and the most wonderful perfume! He got into his car and drove away.
"Well, Sophie, was that O.K? Did we help Simon, do you think?"
A sweet voice replied. "Yes, he'll find his way now. I put that black kitten on his passenger seat. They're just right for each other. I think Simon will expand his outlook and accomplish many things in his life - and he'll always have a cat!"
Elizabeth smiled and said, "Mission accomplished then. I wonder if the story will ever see the light of day? I don't think the world is ready for it yet!" and she picked up the Derek Tangye book she was reading, Tess by her side, Henry sitting on the back of the sofa, and Ginger on her lap. "Life is good!" she said and started reading.
