The Man for an Hour
The death of Barbaras father came as a sudden blow, as fierce as the bitterest winter gale. In just a matter of weeks he faded away from that cursed illness, fighting until the last flicker of life. He had harboured a single wishto see his only daughter wed and joyful. But fate would not be moved, and he passed on a chill January evening, shortly after the Christmas cheer had faded.
At least he didnt ruin the holidays for the poor girl, neighbours would cluck from behind their front gates, shaking their heads with solemn sympathy.
His dream went unfulfilled, for Barbara had no one, save for a hesitant courtship with a gentleman shed met online. They exchanged the odd message, sometimes saw each other once or twice a month, but not much came of it. Her father knew, as his days dwindled, that his daughter was to be left alone in the vast world.
Barbaras mother had left them when Barbara was a child, setting off for work in Florence to send money home. At first, shed send cheerful parcelschocolate, dolls, letters fragrant with the Tuscan sun. As years passed, those parcels grew rare, and at ten years old Barbara received her last letter ever from her mother. The letter explained shed found love with an Italian called Lorenzo, and together they lived contentedly in the countryside. In delicate handwriting her mother asked Barbaras father not to write anymoreher new husband was terribly jealous, and she would send nothing more for her daughter.
But Barbaras father never asked anything from his former wife. He and his Bobbie, as he called her, made do as best as they could. He worked as an odd-job man, sometimes wiring electrics, sometimes mending pipes, sometimes helping with scaffolding on old Georgian townhouses, though he held a university degree. Still, he provided, and while Barbara never knew luxury she never lacked for what mattered. Her father denied himself simple pleasureseven new boots or a decent overcoatbut what use had a workman for Sunday best?
Plumbers dont need suits on the job, love, he would say each time grown-up Barbara bought him a new jumper or leather wallet. Hed pass them back gently: Save that for your husband one day. Hell appreciate it more. Ill be fine rummaging around pipes in this old tat.
Once the forty days of mourning had passed, Barbara could scarcely tell one day from another. She had a service read at the church, then set off to walk home through the drizzle. She missed her fathers talks, the old British cartoons they re-watched despite her being long past childhood, the deep reassurance of his dependable presence. Hed wait in the battered Ford Escort outside her office, rain or shine, simply to save her from soiled shoes.
On that particular evening, the streets were smudgy with bitter rain, half-thawed grit squelched underfoot. Near her block of flats, Barbara spotted a faint golden flicker amidst the grey. On coming closer, she found a tiny ginger kitten, shivering, a patch of living flame nestled by the entranceway.
Another cast-off, Barbara thought, a pang in her chest. The kitten peered back at her, and Barbara knew at once that if she walked on, the poor thing would die. Shed seen enough death already. She gently scooped the drenched, trembling ball of fur into her coat. The kitten instantly began to purr, nuzzling its nose into the warmth of her hand.
Were you hungry, little one? she asked, receiving a grave, intelligent stare. Barbara told herself the look was simply from hunger. Youd look at the world funny too if you were starving, she murmured.
With her new companion, the silence of her flat felt less smothering. Better than being truly alone, Barbara decided, laying out a dish for the kitten and settling down to her favourite cartoonone shed watched a hundred times with Father. Surprisingly, the kitten, though starving, seemed more fascinated by the screen than the food, gaze locked to the antics of an old animated fox. Barbara moved the dish so he could eat and watch at the same time, and peace settled over the flat.
The kittens freckles on his cheeks, the patch by his ear, the same storm-grey eyesit was almost uncanny how much he resembled her dad. For a fleeting moment, Barbara felt the weight of a presence, but quickly banished such thoughts as nonsense. That night, she drifted to sleep, the kitten curled beside her, a living ember.
***
Dying, her father discovered, wasnt frightening. What frightened him was unfinished businesschief among them, his beloved Barbara. How could he rest, knowing she was adrift and alone? For all her stoicism, he knew her heart was softer than she let on; she needed support now more than ever.
How hed wished to know the laughter of grandchildrenadventures in his lap, tales under the apple treehis deepest wish gone unanswered. As the last breath left his lips, relief from pain at last, he felt himself lighter than air. A great vortex shimmered above, warm and beckoning, and he was pulled upward into a world bound by love and comforta place where time, space, and sorrow dissolved into unity.
In that radiant place, he was greeted by family long passed: his parents, robust as theyd been in his boyhood, the orchard all in blossom, laughter ringing from the old stone well. There, too, stood relatives he hadnt seen, or thought lost, for decades. One part of the orchard held a pond, dark and unfathomable, ringed by row upon row of people quietly queuing.
So thats new, he mused. What are they up to over there?
His grandfather, who looked spry and young, led him towards the pond. People stepped, one by one, into the waters, vanishing beneath, not surfacing; yet nobody called for help, nobody seemed distressed.
Granddad, why dont they return? he asked.
These are the doors, son, the old man replied. Those who wish to go homestep into the water.
Is that all? Are they resurrected?
Not resurrected. But returned, in a manner of speaking. No one steps in twice in the same shoes.
Then I must change, he said; my old clothes are worn to bits.
Youll find what you need on the crossing. Theres always help waiting, his grandfather promised.
And you? When will you cross?
Thats Gods secret, son. Only He knows the time.
And with a gentle blessing, his grandfather nudged him into the dark waters, which swept him away into infinite depth. Meanwhile, outside the passage of time and sorrow, his grandfather stood, smiling into an everlasting sun.
***
Barbara awoke to the sharp bleat of her phone. She and the kittenwhom she named Ember for his fiery coathad fallen into such a deep sleep, only the third call stirred her. The voice on the line was gentle and male.
Hello, did I wake you? Dont sleep your life away! Fancy coming over? I miss you.
Barbara didnt want to step out in the gloomnot even for an evening with someone who claimed affection. Besides, who would mind the kitten? The little thing fixed her with round eyes, as though following the words.
Come on, darling, try to cheer up, coaxed the voice. Everyone buries their parents in time. Life must go on. Ive got your favourite wine chilling…
The invitation sounded grating now, more self-serving than comforting, with her grief so fresh. She stroked Ember, who pressed close, and replied, Not tonight. I found a kitten who needs looking after. Another time, perhaps.
Well, suit yourself, came the clipped reply.
Only the dial tone lingered after. Barbara blinked away the sting of tears, looking at her tiny friend. Do you think Ill always be alone? Well, I have you now, havent I? Ember purred, squinting up at her in serene support.
Thats settled then. The two of us, she chuckled. Give me a few years, Ill have a house full of cats and die the archetypal spinster.
Amidst everything, shed nearly forgotten her overdue reports for the officetwo days late already. Tea for me, she told Ember, and you be a good lad, and shuffled away to brew a pot.
Ember, too, was busyfirst, wrangling his tail; next, drawn by the computers blinking lights, he managed to chew the laptop cord to shreds before Barbara could intervene.
Oh, for goodness sake! she cried, discovering the ruined cord. What are you playing at? You couldve been electrocuted!
Her exhaustion and helplessness mounted. Tears started in earnesther fathers death, a callous boyfriend, now a broken laptopand not a penny to spare for a new one. Whats next? Ill be jobless by Tuesday if I dont send those blasted reports, she lamented to Ember, who looked on with guilty understanding.
To comfort her, Ember scrambled into her lap, licking the salt from her cheeks. The earnest affection slowed her tears. What am I ever to do with you? Is my sorrow not enough?
She kissed the kittens head, and he instantly set about washing himself, affronted. Well, its morning already, she muttered, spooning out his breakfast. First stop, laptop repairand you, troublemaker, stay put.
Ember chattered with satisfaction, gobbling his food. Barbara threw a tartan coat over her penguin pyjamas and prepared to leave. No sooner did she open the door than Ember darted past her, making for the open basement she hadnt realised was ajar. Barbara dashed after him.
Ember! Stop, you little villain! What sort of creature are you?
Slipping after him into the musty depths, she found, not the kitten, but a young man fitting a pipe beneath a naked bulbs light.
Sorry, she puffed, have you seen a ginger kitten racing about?
Run away, has he? The young man, though hands smeared with oil, looked tidy and cheerful. Around his hips hung a toolkit, strikingly like her late fathers.
How familiar, Barbara thought. But she said nothing.
Let me finish up, then Ill help you search. Wont be a tick.
He turned a wrench, polished his hands as best he could, and grinned. Right, lets find your rogue. With a torch he illuminated the shadows; behind a pipe, Ember blazed like a bit of the sun.
There he is! Nimble little chap, isnt he? With a deft hand, the man scooped the kitten and handed him over.
Hes yours, then?
He is! Thank you, really, Barbara beamed, but the look of worry returned almost instantly.
Whats the matter? the man asked.
Ive locked myself out, chasing after him. My keys are inside.
Dont fret, said the young man, with an easy smile. Lets see what I can do. I might be able to help.
Truly? Barbara was surprised.
This way. Show me the door.
In half an hour, he had the lock off and back on, working smoother than ever. There, all sorted. And mind you dont let your furry sidekick out again.
I dont know how to thank you. Twice in a single morning youve saved me, she said with bright gratitude.
My pleasure. Helping lovely ladies in distress is the best part of my job, he joked, which made Barbara blush.
Im a bit strapped for cash right nowthat laptops bust, and moneys tight, Barbara admitted. But my father left his toolsI cant use them. Would they be of any use to you?
She led him upstairs, gathering her fathers battered toolbox. The young man, respectful and patient, waited in the hallway.
Ember watched him sternly from under the table; the fellow was tall, blue-eyed, with windswept brown hair, and, despite his greasy work, looked remarkably well-groomed. Even his jeans and jacket, somehow, went with the pliers at his belt.
The man tickled Ember behind the ear, and the kitten rumbled with contentment.
Well now! the young man exclaimed, examining the old tools. Your father must have been a true all-rounder.
He was a plumber, like you.
Im more of a handymanfor an hour or two, came the friendly reply.
A handyman for an hour?
I do odd jobs. People call, I fix what needs fixinglocks, lights, a leaky tap, or take broken things to a proper repair shop. Any task a husband might do about the housethats what Im for.
I moved here from a village two years ago, he shared. I trained as a teacher, but in the end, hands-on work suited me better. It pays all right, and theres never a shortage. He paused, But Ive never had a screwdriver quite like your fathers, I confess.
He handed Barbara a business card: You might need it, he smiled.
Barbara tucked it away. Thank you, maybe one day. For now, my laptop must be fixed firstglancing at the chewed cable.
I can give you a lift, if you fancy. I know a shop wholl mend it quick and cheapemployees privilege. For the sum you offered, Id have to work for you a week! he winked.
Give me a moment to changethese arent suitable for facing the outside world, Barbara replied, reddening.
By evening, Barbara returned with her laptop working and her spirits significantly mended. Ember greeted her eagerly, something dark clenched in his mouth.
Oh heavens, its the mans wallet! Ember, what have you done?
She snatched it from his jaws; inside, the cards and notes were intact, but the leather looked like itd survived a dogfight.
What will I tell him? How disgraceful!
Ember gazed at her, guilt personified. Then Barbara remembered the handymans card. Pocketing her embarrassment, she rang the number.
Antony speaking. The familiar voice brought relief.
Hello, Antony. This is the girl with the kitten. You seem to have left your wallet here.
His voice brightened. Ive been searching for it all day! Ill fetch it now, if you dont mind.
Barbara hesitated. The thing isEmbers chewed it quite a lot. Properly ruined, to be frank.
Well, Antony laughed, thats nothing. Ill pop over anyway.
Barbara, struck by a thought, dug out the wallet shed meant to gift her dad years agosoft, mahogany leather, still smelling fresh. Father wouldnt have minded sharing, she said to Ember.
Ember leapt onto the counter, rattling mugs. Shall I put on tea for our guest? she asked, half to herself.
The bell rang sooner than she expected. Antony stood at the door, a bag of cat toys in his arms. These are for your little rascalto keep him from chewing up all your possessions. And heresome treats for you.
Barbara handed over the new wallet and the battered remains of the old. Do you always have exactly what I need? Antony marvelled.
She smiled. All thanks to him she nodded at the kitten. By the way, the kitchen taps a bit leaky. Any chance you could look?
Bit of time on my handswhy not?, he replied with a grin.
Ive just boiled the kettlefancy some tea? Or coffee?
Tea, please. Green, if you have any, and a spot of honey, he said, smiling.
Suddenly, peaceful warmth settled over the flat, as if it had always been so. Ember, content with his new gifts, blinked in satisfaction and, just for a whisker of a moment, Barbara felt as though she witnessed the very smile of God.
