My Angel
Lizzy kept silencing the ringing phone, but Nicholas called again and again.
“Lizzy, answer. How long will you keep this up?” Aunt Marian peeked into the room. “Or just turn it off if you don’t want to talk.” She slammed the door shut behind her.
Lizzy switched off the phone and tossed it across the sofa. She would have done it sooner, but she was waiting for Andrew’s call. He had promised to ring, but two days had passed, and he hadn’t. As for Nicholas, she had no desire to speak to him—let alone see him. For him, she had crawled out of the shell she’d retreated into after her parents’ death. And he had betrayed her so callously…
***
The streets had been coated in black ice. Her parents had been driving back from Granny’s when a jeep shot out of a side lane. The drunk driver lost control on the slippery road, skidded, and ploughed straight into their car. Her mother died instantly; her father passed away in hospital.
A full year had passed since then. Once, Lizzy had loved New Year’s Eve, counting down the days with excitement. Now, the thought of it made her shudder. It no longer meant celebration—only the memory of loss, of pain that never faded.
She scarcely remembered how she’d made it through her first year at university, how she’d survived the grief at all. Aunt Marian, her father’s sister, had moved in after her divorce.
“Just call me Marian. ‘Aunt’ makes me feel ancient,” she’d insisted.
But Marian could never replace her parents, and the two had never grown close. Marian was too busy chasing her own happiness, flitting from one man to the next.
Lizzy had no intention of celebrating New Year’s. She would go to bed early and ignore it entirely. But Nicholas had persuaded her to attend his friend’s birthday party two days before.
“I’ve got a girlfriend, but I never go out with her. What am I supposed to do there alone? Everyone else will be paired up. It’s not New Year’s—just a birthday. Come on, you need to start living again. Your mum wouldn’t have wanted you shut away like this.”
That last argument shattered her resistance. She agreed to go. She wore the dress she and her mother had bought for last New Year’s—one she’d never had the chance to wear.
“You’ll be the most beautiful girl there,” her mother had said.
And the dress did suit her wonderfully.
Marian gave her a critical once-over.
“As long as we live together, I’ll never remarry. Who’d look at me with a young beauty like you around?” She sighed. “Isn’t it a bit revealing? Wait a moment.” Marian disappeared into her room and returned with a delicate scarf, a shade darker than the dress, perfectly complementing it.
*Mum would’ve liked this*, Lizzy thought.
“Much better,” Marian said, satisfied. “You can drape it over your shoulders if it gets chilly.”
The taxi ride to the party was long. By the time they arrived, the celebration was in full swing. The birthday boy whistled when he saw Lizzy.
“Now I see why you’ve been hiding her. Watch out, mate—I’ll steal her right from under you,” he joked, wagging a finger at Nicholas.
Lizzy knew no one there but Nicholas. With him beside her, she felt at ease. But then the dancing started. A stranger asked her to dance, and when the music faded, Nicholas was gone.
Suddenly, the room felt stifling. She wandered through the flat, searching for him. Near the entrance, she noticed the front door ajar. Stepping outside, she saw Nicholas on the landing below, locked in a passionate embrace with another girl, as if they’d been apart for years. They were so absorbed they noticed nothing else.
Lizzy’s stomach twisted. What now? She couldn’t stay. She hurried back inside, pulled on her boots and coat, and stepped out again.
The sight of them kissing made her sick. She couldn’t walk past them. Her only choice was to go upstairs and wait—sooner or later, they’d stop, or someone would call them back inside. She climbed a flight, but even there, she could hear their murmurs and laughter.
She went higher. The next landing had an open balcony overlooking the courtyard. Lizzy paused, leaning against the railing, letting the cold air cool her flushed face. The cars below looked like snowdrifts.
*Would it hurt if I jumped?* The thought flickered through her mind. *Don’t you dare!* Whether the command came from her or some unseen voice, she jerked back from the railing—then leaned over again, peering down.
“Don’t even think about it! Step back!” A sharp voice cut through the air. Strong hands yanked her away from the edge.
Her scarf snagged on something, slipped free, and fluttered over the railing. Lizzy gasped, reaching for it, but the wind caught it, and it spiralled down like a bird.
“Let me go!” she snapped at the stranger still holding her. “That’s my scarf! Marian will kill me!”
“Sorry, I thought…” The young man looked sheepish. “I thought you were going to jump.”
“What gave you that idea? I was just looking! I wasn’t going to jump!” Her irritation flared.
“Let’s go find your scarf.” He tugged her inside. By the time they reached the party floor, Nicholas and the girl were gone. A pang struck her—he hadn’t even come looking for her.
The scarf had caught on a tree branch, flapping in the breeze. The boy grabbed the lowest limb, hoisted himself up, and stretched—but the branch cracked beneath him. Just before he fell, he snatched the scarf’s edge. A loud rip followed, and a sizable piece stayed tangled in the tree.
“Sorry,” he said, handing her the torn scarf. “Will you be in trouble? Was it expensive?”
“No. Marian gave it to me. What am I supposed to do now?” She stuffed it into her coat pocket.
“Leaving the party?” he asked.
“Why do you care?” she shot back.
“Let me walk you home.”
“I can manage.”
“It’s dark, and this isn’t the safest area. Come on.”
Reluctantly, she followed him. He flagged down a cab and climbed in beside her.
“I could’ve gone alone,” she muttered.
“Where to, love?” the driver asked cheerfully.
She gave her address.
Silence filled the cab until the boy finally spoke. “You really weren’t going to jump?”
“And if I was? Who are you, anyway?”
“Andrew.”
“Who—who?” She frowned. “Angel?”
“You could say that. Andrew. Mum named me after an old folk-rock band from the eighties—*Andrew and Eliza*.”
She studied him closely.
“I’m Lizzy.”
“Brilliant! Mum always said I’d meet my Eliza someday. Fate, don’t you think?”
She almost thought he was mocking her—but his tone was entirely earnest.
“Why do you talk about your mum in the past tense? Is she… gone?”
“What? No, she’s fine. She remarried and lives abroad now. I stayed here with Dad. He was the one who loved that band.”
Before she knew it, they’d reached her flat.
“Give me your number. It’d be a shame to find you only to lose you straightaway.” He pulled out his mobile.
She recited it.
“I’ll call tomorrow,” he promised as she stepped out.
***
Two days passed with no word from Andrew. Lizzy couldn’t stop thinking about him—how had he even appeared on that balcony? She hadn’t heard footsteps. *Maybe he really is an angel.* Just then, the doorbell rang.
“Lizzy, get that—my hands are covered in flour!” Marian called from the kitchen.
Another suitor was due, and Marian was determined to impress him with her cooking—especially since it was New Year’s Eve. Lizzy had no intention of intruding. She’d stay in her room or go to bed early.
Grudgingly, she opened the door—and froze. Andrew stood on the threshold.
“Why’d you ignore my calls? Why turn off your phone?” He sounded almost hurt.
“I thought—” She’d been rejecting every call without checking.
“Was it that bloke? The one who made you want to jump?” Now he was teasing her. “I decided to come myself. Besides, I’ve got your shoes—you left them in the cab.” He held out a small bag.
“How did you—how did you even find me?”
“I waited that night. Watched which window lit up. The rest was easy.”
“Lizzy, who’s there?” Marian called.
“It’s for me!” Lizzy replied.
“Your mum?” Andrew asked.
“No. Marian.”
“Get dressed. I’ll wait on the stairs. We haven’t got much time.”
“I’m notShe hesitated, then grabbed her coat and followed him into the night, unaware that this New Year’s Eve would be the first of many they’d celebrate together, hand in hand, beneath the glow of fireworks and the quiet promise of a love that had saved her.
