Angel Manifesto Read online

  Andrew had to agree with the Colonel that here was an organisation which had access to considerable resources. Even allowing for the fact that many of the stores were probably transient rents of empty properties on High Streets, spending on property alone was clearly considerable. Most, if not all, the store helpers were probably volunteers, which again would cut the costs. But there must also somewhere be a significant back management layer who, if nothing else, would incur considerable running costs of their own. On the back of an envelope, Andrew reckoned that what he could see on the website alone might cost £5 million a month to run. The Colonel was right that there must be substantial funds somewhere.

  The Angels’ own PR was remarkably vague about the structure of the organisation, or its aims and how it was run. It referred to the ‘fact’ that much of the work was done by ‘members’ who subscribed to the principles that underlay the group. Andrew could find only three such principles:

  -No discrimination of any kind;

  -Do good and certainly do no harm;

  -Belief, however vague, in any form of higher deity or God.

  Andrew could see how the first two of these would play well with many groups in society. He was less sure about the third; but it turned out, on further digging, that the principle was set in very vague terms. He also found that, according to many surveys, up to 80% of the population as a whole believed in some form of Deity; and even among the young, if the question were asked the ‘right way’, that proportion was well over 50%. A staggering number also said they believed in angels, traditionally defined.

  Beyond that, everything in the public domain put out by the Angels looked like the product of a confused 15 year-old. But Andrew realised that this might be deliberate and actually rather clever. The implication seemed to be that everyone was welcome to contact and use the Angels; but membership, or being on the ‘inside’, was by invitation. Andrew saw that he would need to obtain such an invitation, as soon as possible,

  Andrew also looked, largely in vain, for critical pieces on the Angels by journalists or other investigators. Either they were squeaky clean or they had an extraordinarily good PR department who had kept negative comment to an absolute minimum. Several journalists had clearly done what Andrew intended to do – and presented themselves at an Angel store as individuals needing help. But most of these people said that they had then found themselves smothered in good intentions and caring people, a lot of talk and limited, though sensible, advice. No-one described ‘brainwashing’ or any form of political agenda or, indeed, anything that could be classified as abuse of the individual concerned. The nearest analogy he could come up with was of an organisation like the Salvation Army, but with money and without any seriously religious content. No wonder they had managed to get a decent press.

  He did find some oblique references to the sexual proclivities of some Angels. It seemed they were split into two groups. For one of these, either sex was not for discussion or not relevant; and the other – gay and straight – were openly aggressive supporters of the life-style they claimed to follow. Any commentator who picked up on this then went on to say that the Angels had evolved signals by which people could recognise like-minded individuals and so avoid any awkwardness. Andrew decided without much thought that his physique and his Army and City backgrounds fitted only with the image of a testosterone-driven straight male. Nothing else would be plausible or, for him, enjoyable. Perhaps, Andrew thought, this was what the Colonel had been alluding to, when he had wished himself young enough to have taken on the job himself.

  The Colonel’s own organisation provided remarkably little of substance on the Angels. They explained this by saying they didn’t want to prejudice Andrew’s own views. But Andrew suspected that it was, in fact, the result of their having little to pass on.

  3

  Andrew realised that he had better get on and make the first move. That, he decided, should be a visit to one of the main High Street outlets, in Oxford Street. There, he would pose as a man with time on his hands, and a potential commitment to what the Angels said they were about. And he would see where that took him.

  That decision was made on a Saturday. The following Monday found him standing outside the ‘store’ concerned, around 11 a.m. He had thought that Monday should be a fairly quiet day for the Angels and that anything earlier than mid-morning might seem strange. The store looked like it had been an HMV outlet, or something similar, in a previous life. The front to the street was wide and it had been contoured so that, in the windows, there was room for a large entrance to the left which merely said ‘ ANGEL SOCIAL’ over it. To the right was another which just said ‘ANGEL FAMILY’; and in the middle, inset, was a slowly moving escalator with signs indicating ‘ANGEL HEALTH & FINANCE’ up on the first floor. These were obviously the manifestations of the three branches of the Angels he had read about on the web.

  Well, he had no doubt which he wanted so he pushed through the ‘SOCIAL’ entrance. He could see quickly that the store went in from the street quite some way. The front section seemed given over to garish boards identifying upcoming gigs, classical concerts, open parties, talks – the range seemed extensive. At the side were a series of booths, each with a small table and a tablet hooked in. The back of the store seemed to contain a number of enclosed areas – perhaps rooms where private stuff was discussed. Overall, it made for an informal, colourful, set-up. Space was largely taken up; but Andrew could see only a handful of people browsing the material so the effect was not stuffy or threatening. Andrew’s eye then fell on a couple of spaces where a sign hung above them said ‘ANGEL POINT’. It didn’t take a genius to work out that this was where you probably went if you wanted to talk to one of the locals; and indeed at one of them a girl stood looking idly around. She was dressed quite smartly in a light green and informal jump suit; for some reason, Andrew had expected Angels to be in white but there was nothing wrong with green. He walked up to the girl, introduced himself and began to explain what he wanted. Her name tag indicated she was called Carol and she looked (and sounded) quite young, probably not long out of school.

  “Carol” Andrew began. “I hope I’m at the right place. I’ve heard a lot about the Angels. For reasons I won’t go into now, I find myself with a few weeks’ free time and thought it would be an ideal opportunity to find out more. To make myself known and see if I could make myself useful.” Carol smiled back at him, in the way one does, even if a volunteer, if your job involves talking to 50 people a day, 49 of whom you will never see again. “Great” she replied. “We always need active doers. We have a simple routine that should help us tell you quickly what we can do for you and find out what we need to know about you.” She gestured at the side-wall. “We’ve got a set of booths there. Take an empty one. Type 02 into the Tablet and it will come up with a short questionnaire about you, your interests, what we can do for you. You answer only what suits you in the Questionnaire. You can type your answers in or speak to the console on the wall, which is a speak-write. And that will then show your answers up on the form itself, on the screen for you to check the speak-write has got it right. Just type in or say ‘END’ when you’ve had enough; and we’ll take it from there. Oh, and by the way, help yourself to coffee and muffin or cake on the way. We really have good coffee and of course it’s free.” “Sounds good” said Andrew “I’ll give it a try.”

  The system proved as easy as she had said it would be; and the coffee was better. Andrew still remembered with some nostalgic fondness the sign that had stood on the coffee table in the Catholic Church hall where he had spent many Sunday mornings in his youth. The sign had said simply “Don’t complain about the coffee – you’ll be old and weak yourself one day.” And that was how Andrew typically felt about coffee in public places. The Angel coffee in contrast was in a totally different league and the small muffin he had grabbed almost as good.

  The form had all the obvious – age, address, work histo
ry – and a few other less obvious things as well. But the system made clear you only had to answer what you wanted. And so rapid was the process that Andrew had reached the end of the form before reaching anywhere near the end of his patience. He thought briefly before signing off. He had managed to drag in the points that the Colonel had stressed would appeal to the Angels, such as his Catholic childhood, his Army experience and his knowledge of Arabic. Satisfied, he said “END” to the Tablet and returned to Carol.

  She smiled at him. “I’ve asked one of my senior colleagues, Chloe, to look at your input. If you could just hang on for 5 minutes, she’ll be with you. Do look around while you’re waiting. Whatever your tastes in music and in entertainment, I’m sure you’ll find something of interest. Quite a few of the events shown here are not open to the public, so we can tell you immediately if something you’re interested in is available. And coming to gigs is the way many people start to experience what we can offer.” With that, she moved off.

  A new figure in green appeared by his side in less than 5 minutes and Andrew could see from her name tag that this was Chloe. She was older than Carol, maybe late 20s; and, while dressed in similar fashion to Carol, she somehow managed to make the ensemble come to life in a way that the other girl hadn’t. Blonde hair and lots of it helped, as did her green-blue eyes which smiled – seemingly genuinely – at Andrew. She wasn’t tall and she was slight in build – willowy with not an ounce of fat in sight. In fact, for Andrew, she quickly ticked most of his physical boxes for deciding whether a girl he had met was worth pursuing.

  “What an interesting personal history, Andrew – may I call you Andrew?” she said. Without waiting for a reply, she went on. “I’d love to find out more about why you’re here and what we might be able to do for you but now isn’t an ideal time. I’m having a get-together of relatively new people at a bar pretty near where I see you work – tomorrow night starting at 7. Do you think you could make that? I’d have plenty of time then and you get the chance to meet a few old and potential new Angels over a drink. Do say you’ll come.” She smiled directly at him. Andrew felt that, even had it not been convenient, he could hardly turn down such a chance; and, of course, it was actually just the start he wanted. “I’ll be there.” he promised.

  “Great” she replied. “What I can do for you straightaway is to introduce you to Freddy. He knows far more about the Angels than most potential new recruits ever want to know. And I’m sure he can fill you in enough for you to get something worthwhile out of the drinks. I see you put your mobile number into your form. I’ll send you the details for tomorrow. And see you then. Carol will find Freddy (really Frederick) and get the 2 of you together.”

  4

  Frederick turned out to be happy to answer to ‘Freddy’. He was a lean, sparse man who might have been in his late 30s. From his style of dress, slightly long hair and a neatly trimmed, short beard, he gave the impression that he had started life as a hipster and got stuck somewhere early along the way. Andrew introduced himself but Freddy had obviously already been briefed and, within 2 minutes, they had moved to the back of the store. Andrew was seated and ready to start, fortified by his coffee and muffin.

  “I understand from Clo that you may be better informed than some I talk to. So what exactly is it you want to know about the Angels?” Freddy began. Andrew had had no real chance to sum his new companion up and he realised now that Chloe had failed to brief him about Freddy. “I suppose what I am really asking is are you people for real? And what is real in your world?”

  Freddy smiled to himself. “Let’s just go back a bit. And let me ask what does the word ‘angel’ conjure up for you?” Andrew recalled his Catholic upbringing. “Well, the word angel means messenger doesn’t it? If I remember correctly, most of the Old Testament’s relevant references are to messengers, which then got taken later to mean what we now think of as angels. Then, by the time you are in the New Testament you have angels proclaiming Jesus’ birth, appearing after his death and so on. Finally, by the time you get to the Book of Revelations at the end of the New Testament you’ve got Archangels, angels, cherubim, heaven knows what else.”

  “Pretty accurate, as far as it goes” Freddy replied. “The Greek word giving rise to the word angel actually means messenger. But I’m not sure it’s right to start with the Old Testament. Many of us think the Zoroastrians were the first to come up with the concept, in Ancient Persia; and it was taken on by the Jews in captivity there and turned into what you remember. But, yes, however it started, it’s true that many of the references in the Old Testament were to messengers that could have been human or divine.

  What you perhaps don’t know is that many other religions also have angels, or something very similar. This is a concept that clearly has resonance with humanity and is therefore a particularly helpful one for us. That’s whether you’re talking about Biblical Angels or things like individual Guardian Angels that popped up somewhere along the way. Many of us think we have come to give a big message to humanity, though we don’t claim there is anything ‘divine’ about us. So the term Angels suits from several points of view.”

  Andrew felt he had to get back into this conversation. “Well, I certainly remember that the Muslims have the same concept – didn’t the Archangel Gabriel dictate the Qur’an to the Prophet? In a cave, wasn’t it?”

  “You’re right” said Freddy “which, of course, is one reason why we’ve just managed to tie up a formal understanding with what are now known as the Muslim Angels. But there are other religions and cultures involved too. Japanese mythology has angel-like beings called Tennin and Tenshi. Baha’i literature has an angel-like creature usually called the ‘Maiden of Heaven’; and so it goes on. All the way through to the Mormons – they too regard angels as messengers of God.

  In nearly all these cases, an angel is seen as something good, attractive and usually – though not always – androgynous, i.e. not obviously either male or female. Again, that all helps us with our public image. I say the word ’angel’ and you immediately think of something pleasing to see, something ’special’ and friendly.”

  Andrew interrupted again. “What about the devil and ‘fallen angels’? And what do you do about wings – which are something I suspect most people also factor into their image of an angel?” Freddy smiled again. “We’re certainly not into adverts for Red Bull though, when someone becomes an angel, they do sometimes get given a set of wings as part of the ceremony. So, let’s go easy on the wings, though we’re kind of stuck with them, as are the Muslims – the Qur’an talks about angels with several sets of wings. But the image of Fallen Angels you mention is actually something we can and do make use of too. Everyone knows they fail to live up to expectations most of the time. In that way, they can think of themselves – with our help – as minor versions of ‘fallen angels’. And most people seem to find it easier to think about evil if it’s personified. So Satan really does have his uses. And we can use him too. If we ever get a serious problem with one of our own Angels – say for example they’ve had their hands in the till at work. Thankfully I can’t think of anything like that; but there is then immediately a class, a type – the Fallen Angel, the instigator Satan – we could slot them into.”

  Andrew decided that was more than enough theology for now. “OK. Let’s get onto the ‘here and now’. What is this ‘big message’? Where are you trying to take it?” Freddy didn’t seem put out by the directness of the question. “Chloe’s twittering won’t have given you much idea – quite a lot of the Angels can’t actually explain coherently what they’re about. So let me do the intelligent tourist guide, which incidentally will help show why we think people like you need to be in our tent, not outside it. Indeed, that’s why I’m spending this time with you now. I understand that one of the reasons why you’re here is to help you decide whether you want to be ‘in’ or not. It’s my job to help you get interested.

  First, and I’ll b
e very frank, we intend to be a political party, albeit of a rather unusual kind. We’re not a cult. Apart from belief in God (and, as you’ve probably worked out already, we’re pretty relaxed about what constitutes ‘God’) we ask our members to agree only on two things. That the world needs improving; and that we each can help to make things better. There is an unspoken fourth element and that is that, whenever you are in doubt about the right course, you listen to Michael. I’ll come back to him in a minute.”

  Andrew stayed silent and Freddy continued, this time talking so it seemed almost to himself. “80% of the British say they believe in God, although only a couple of million actually ever go to a Christian church except for a wedding or a funeral; and maybe another couple of million plus are active Muslims or Jews. Most of the rest of this 80% are not religious in any active sense. But they do know that the world is a cruel and harsh place, one that they’d like to see changed. And, provided you don’t push them too hard or too often; and provided you make it ‘fun’ to belong, there’s a whole lot of people who will keep you company down what could for us be a long and winding road. What we have to do, over time, is convert that into votes at the ballot box.

  We are immensely lucky to have someone, in Michael, who seems able always to articulate what that mass of people are likely to feel and who can lead them so that they think they’re leading him. We’re incredibly lucky to have the resources of the Foundation behind us; that gives us the money to make it ‘fun’ for so many people. For most of the people who do things with us, we’re like a great club with no membership fee. One that you can join and leave pretty well at will. One that lets you find people you are likely to have something in common with – and have that fun, while at the same time often doing something that makes you feel proud to be part of the club.”