**My Angel**
Elsie stubbornly kept silencing the call, but Nicholas kept ringing again and again.
“Elsie, answer. How long are you going to keep this up?” Marina poked her head into the room. “Or just turn it off if you don’t want to talk.” She slammed the door shut with a huff.
Elsie switched off her phone and tossed it to the other end of the sofa. She should have done it sooner, but she’d been waiting for a call from Andrew. He’d promised to ring, but two days had passed with nothing. As for Nicholas, she didn’t want to speak to him—not after what he’d done. She’d let herself trust him, stepped out of the shell she’d retreated into after losing her parents, and he’d betrayed her so carelessly.
***
The roads had been sheer ice that night. Her parents had been driving back from her grandmother’s when a jeep came barrelling out of a side street. The drunk driver lost control on the slippery road, skidding straight into their car. Mum died instantly; Dad held on just long enough to reach the hospital.
Exactly a year had passed since then. Elsie used to love Christmas, counting down the days with excitement. Now the thought of it turned her stomach. It wasn’t joy it brought anymore—just the crushing weight of grief.
She didn’t even remember how she’d dragged herself through her first year at university. Aunt Marina, her father’s sister, had moved in after the accident. She was divorced—her marriage had fallen apart years ago after a botched abortion in her teens left her unable to have children.
“Just call me Marina. ‘Aunt’ makes me feel ancient,” she’d said straight away.
But Marina couldn’t replace her parents, and they never grew close. She was too wrapped up in rebuilding her own life—dating, searching for someone new.
Elsie had no intention of celebrating. She’d just go to bed early, like any other night. But Nicholas persuaded her to come to his friend’s birthday party two days before Christmas.
“I’ve got a girlfriend, but never take her anywhere. Come with me—everyone else will be paired up. It’s just a birthday, not some big holiday. You can’t hide forever. Your mum wouldn’t have wanted that,” he’d argued.
That last line broke her resolve. She dug out the dress she and Mum had bought last year—the one she’d never had the chance to wear.
“You’ll be the most beautiful one there,” Mum had said.
It still fit perfectly.
Marina gave her a critical once-over.
“No one will look twice at me with you around,” she sighed. “Isn’t it a bit revealing? Wait—” She disappeared into her room and returned with a delicate scarf, slightly darker than the dress, the perfect complement.
*Mum would’ve approved.*
“Better,” Marina said with satisfaction. “You can drape it over your shoulders if you get cold.”
The taxi ride felt endless. By the time they arrived, the party was in full swing. The birthday boy wolf-whistled when he spotted Elsie.
“Now I see why you’ve been hiding her! No offence, mate, but I’d steal her in a heartbeat,” he joked, wagging a finger at Nicholas.
Elsie didn’t know anyone else there. With Nicholas beside her, she felt safe. But then the music started, and some bloke pulled her onto the dance floor. When the song ended, Nicholas was gone.
Surrounded by strangers, she suddenly felt exposed. Wandering through the flat, she noticed the front door slightly ajar. Stepping outside, she saw Nicholas on the landing below—locked in a kiss with some girl like they’d been apart for years. They didn’t even notice her.
Her stomach turned. She couldn’t stay. Back inside, she grabbed her coat and boots, then hesitated in the hallway. The thought of walking past them made her skin crawl. She’d have to wait it out.
Climbing another flight, she stopped on the open balcony between floors, letting the chilly air cool her flushed cheeks. The cars below looked like snowy lumps.
*Would it hurt to jump?* The thought flickered before she could stop it. *Don’t you dare.* Whether it was her own voice or someone else’s, she jerked back from the railing—then leaned over again, staring down.
“Don’t even think about it! Step away—*now!*” A firm hand wrenched her back.
Her scarf caught on something, fluttered free, and danced on the wind before slipping over the edge. She gasped, lunging uselessly after it.
“Let go of me!” She twisted in the stranger’s grip. “That scarf—Marina will kill me!”
“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “Thought you were about to jump.”
“What? No! I was just—” She scowled. “Never mind.”
“Come on, let’s find it.” He tugged her inside. By the time they reached the courtyard, Nicholas was gone—*he didn’t even come looking for me*—and the scarf was tangled in a tree.
The guy grabbed the lowest branch, hoisted himself up—then the wood cracked ominously. Just before falling, he snagged a corner of the scarf. A loud rip, and half of it stayed stubbornly knotted to the tree.
“Sorry.” He handed her the torn scrap. “Will you get in trouble? Was it expensive?”
“No. Marina gave it to me.” She stuffed it in her pocket. “Why’d you leave the party?”
“Do you care?” she snapped.
“I’ll walk you home.”
“I can manage.”
“It’s pitch black. This area’s dodgy at night. Come on.”
Reluctantly, she followed him to the road, where he flagged down a cab.
“I could’ve gotten one myself,” she muttered.
“Where to, love?” the driver chirped.
Elsie gave her address. Silence filled the car until the boy finally spoke.
“Really… you weren’t going to jump?”
“Would it matter if I was? Who even are you?”
“Andrew.”
“What—*Angel?*”
“Suppose you could say that.” He grinned. “Mum named me after some ‘80s folk-rock band—*Andrew & Eliza.*”
She studied him. “I’m Elsie.”
“Brilliant! Mum always said I’d find my Eliza one day. Meant to be, yeah?”
She almost thought he was mocking her, but his expression was dead serious.
“You talk about your mum in the past tense. Is she…?”
“What? No, she’s fine. Lives abroad now—married some bloke. I stayed here with Dad. He’s the one who loved that band.”
Before she knew it, they’d pulled up to her building.
“Give me your number. Can’t find you just to lose you again.” He pulled out his mobile.
She recited it, and he promised, “I’ll ring tomorrow.”
***
Two days passed. No call. She couldn’t stop thinking about him—how had he even appeared on that balcony? She hadn’t heard footsteps. *Maybe he really is…* The doorbell cut her off.
“Elsie, get that—my hands are covered in flour!” Marina shouted from the kitchen.
Another one of her *suitors* was due over—tonight of all nights, New Year’s Eve. Elsie had no intention of intruding. She’d hide in her room like always.
She yanked the door open, expecting some middle-aged bloke. Instead, Andrew stood there.
“Why’d you ignore my calls? Turn your phone off?” he demanded, more hurt than angry.
“I thought—” She’d been rejecting every call without checking.
“Your ex bothering you? The one who made you want to jump?” Now he *was* teasing. “Figured I’d come myself. Besides—” He held up a small bag. “You left your shoes in the cab.”
“How did you even *find* me?”
“Waited that night. Watched which flat lit up. The rest was easy.”
“Elsie, who’s here?” Marina called.
“It’s for me!” she shouted back.
“Your mum?” Andrew asked.
“No. Marina.”
“Get dressed. I’ll wait on the stairs. We’re short on time.”
“I’m not going. You don’t understand. New Year’s is—” A sob escaped before she could stop it.
“Just a small gathering. Live music.” His knowing look made her wonder if he *did* understand. “Wear whatever you like.”
Minutes later, she emerged in jeans and a cream jumper—simple, but she knew she looked good.
“Marina, I’m going. Don’t wait up.”
***
The tiny club was warm, the air humming with guitar chords. Three lads playing near the entrance waved Andrew over.
“Elsie, this is Victor,” he introduced them.
When Andrew sat at the piano, something in her chest loosened.
“Bored yet?” he asked afterward, offering his hand. “Dance with me?”Years later, as they celebrated another New Year’s Eve together, Elsie leaned into Andrew’s embrace and whispered, “You really were my angel all along,” and he simply held her tighter, knowing no words were needed.
