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Jane looked up at the very tall blue glass and steel building “The Tartarus Corporation? Why do I know that name, Tartarus?”
“It is part of Greek mythology…” Wurgurrawoh started to say.
“Oh I know…” said Jane “It is written on the bottom of my shampoo bottle.”
Wurgurrawoh sighed “Yeah, that too.”
Jane looked at the old four storey Tudor building that was large but small in comparison with the blue buildings that flanked it. “That is kind of strange and out of place, so I guess it is the charity shop we’re going to?”
Wurgurrawoh smiled with too many teeth saying “Yes it is. Welcome to The Trilimbed Felidae charity shop.”
“Where Brenda and Brendan the Angels known as Hasdiel, lives.” said Gertrude softly.
Chapter Eighteen
Me, Myself and the Ironing.
Jane’s whole body stiffened “I’m going to meet an Angel! A real life, honest to god, winged Angel of heaven?”
Wurgurrawoh and Gertrude exchange a glance that said far more than mere words ever could and Jane, bless her heart and cotton socks, totally failed to notice it.
“Yeessss.” Wurgurrawoh said almost painfully slowly “But I doubt you will see any wings today.”
“Or anything even nearly approaching sanity either.” muttered Gertrude under her breath. Wurgurrawoh shushed her and they both looked at Jane.
Jane was standing stock still, her eyes wide and her mouth open in pure fear or wonder. She was truly in awe. Her day had been one of phenomena (Do do do do do. Phenomena. Do do do do… sorry, I now have that song stuck in my head. I love the Muppets!), fun, surprises and excitement but an Angel! She never expected this at all. She could feel herself trembling all over.
She turned slowly to face Wurgurrawoh “An Angel?” she said in barely a whisper.
Wurgurrawoh sighed “Yes, one of those.”
“One?” whispered Gertrude and Wurgurrawoh shushed her again.
Jane was now looking at the Tudor building carefully trying to take it all in; she noticed a small handwritten sign pinned to the wooden door.
Jane read:
The Trilimbed Felidae Charity Shop.
All donations welcome.
Do not ask for credit as we have no creditability left.
Come in if you must, but please wipe your feet.
“Shall we going in?” Wurgurrawoh asked Jane gently.
Jane took a long deep breath “Yes, lets.” she said stretching her arm out and her hand touching the door knob.
)0(
Jane was totally and utterly unsurprised to see that the inside of the shop looked even bigger than the outside. Of course it would be. The place was a mess; actually ‘mess’ is a lazy use of language, it was what is affectingly know as organised chaos but organised how would be a mystery to anyone other than the messy git that had arranged it (maybe the word ‘mess’ will do just fine after all?).
The floor, what could be seen of it, was old dark wooden parquet flooring that could do with a good clean. The walls had floor to ceiling shelves and the whole place was full of display cabinets, shelf units and clothing racks of all sizes, heights, colours and styles; none of them were in neat rows like in a library but they were all over the place at odd angles and locations. It was laid out more like a maze than anything. There was not a single flat surface that didn’t have things and stuff on it. ‘Stuff’ was everywhere. And there was a smell; Jane took a big sniff. It was not an unpleasant smell, you got used to it very quickly; it was a mixture of lavender, hot chocolate, menthol cigarette smoke and… and… And ‘old’, was all Jane could think of it as, not mouldy or rotting but just ‘old’. Jane couldn’t help but smile, she loved the whole place.