'I call myself Tony now,' he said, lowering himself onto the sofa. He wasn't sure, but he thought he could hear the world spinning round on its axis. He did hope he wasn't going to be sick. 'Warlock isn't really suitable to be one of the unnoticed people who run the world.'

'I suppose not. And is Tony short for…'

'Anthony. Anthony James Dowling,' he said breathlessly, staring at Mr Fell.

'Anthony James? Oh, how perfect. Crowley would be pleased.'

'I don't…I don't understand.'

'Ah, well, you see, it's very simple. We thought you were the Anti-Christ and we were trying to avert the Apocalypse, so we thought we'd better work together to try and stop you. Actually, it's not simple at all really, but that was the start of it. Unless you go all the way back to the Garden but Crowley always said I shouldn't even think about that. I mean, I was on apple-tree duty, so it is technically my fault – I'm just going to get my cocoa.'

There were several statements in what Mr Fell had just said that turned Tony's knees to jelly, and he thought he'd better deal with just one.

'You thought I was the Anti-Christ?'

'Yes, but it turned out you weren't, so that's all right.' Mr Fell said, as he returned from the kitchen.

'I don't know,' Tony said, sitting up. Mr Fell poured him a glass of whisky and he gulped at it. 'I was a pretty horrible brat as a child.'

'Well, that's hardly surprising. We gave you some very mixed messages.'

Don't listen to the gardener dear, listen to me.

Don't you listen to Nanny, listen to me.

You are born to rule the world and squash all living things under your feet, so do rip up the neighbours flowers if you wish. Don't touch Brother Francis' flowers though, he'd be very upset.

'You be kind to all living things, young Master Dowling and don't listen to your nanny. But do tell her I'm having tea in my hut at 3pm and I'm expecting her. And you make yourself scarce, I want a good long chat with Nanny. But don't you listen to her.'

'You left. When I was ten, you both just left.'

'It was time,' Mr Fell said. 'We'd done all you could. But we were at your eleventh birthday. I did magic tricks!'

'I remember you! You were terrible – sorry. Hang on, wasn't that the one where the bodyguards guns went off?'

'I'm afraid so. And we did keep an eye on you. Well, Crowley wanted to kill you, but I wouldn't.'

'He wanted you to kill me?' Tony was certain he had actually died and this was some weird version of hell.

'Oh, but I didn't! I couldn't. I didn't kill the real Anti-Christ either, but that was all okay, because he saved the world.'

'I don't understand how all this is possible. Why were you killing the Anti-Christ? Why were you trying to stop the Apocalypse? How did you even know about the Apocalypse? And who's the real Anti-Christ? And I swear Nanny was a real woman, not a man dressed up!'

'Well of course Nanny was a woman, dear,' Mr Fell said, as if slightly hurt. 'Crowley was always very mutable about genders. And species too, for that matter. I liked to pick a shape and stick to it, but he was always changing his look. Always still Crowley underneath it all, though, of course.'

'Mutable?'

'He was a demon. They can do that. Well, so can angels. And I am the Angel Aziraphale. The real Anti-Christ is Adam, who I believe you've met. He's a very pleasant man now.'

The world went quiet. No doubt the traffic flowed and people talked and horns beeped and music played and cups clinked and life went on but for Tony – Warlock Anthony James Dowling – the world was silent. Mr Fell sipped his whisky.

'Angel?'

'Yes, I'm an angel.'

'And demon?'

'Yes. I do need you to grasp this quickly, it will be important soon. Think back to your childhood. Think back to any odd incidents.'

Tony swallowed his whisky and tried to remember. Surely a childhood always seems odd when you're an adult? All those imaginary games and fairy tales and stories told after dark.

'I met a man on the fields of Megiddo. He didn't want to talk to my parents, just me,' he said, slowly. 'I told him he smelled of poo.'

'Ah, the demon Hastur! Yes, Crowley enjoyed that. Hastur really did stink. Listen, Warlock…'

'Tony…'

'No, it's time to be Warlock now. Whatever we did, somehow, we prepared you. You're aware of things. You're special.'

'Adam said much the same thing.'

'Yes, well, he sees things. What happened forty-five years ago wasn't the end. It was just a pause. Things will get bad again soon.'

'What do you expect me to do about it?'

Mr Fell shrugged.

'Run a bookshop. Be in love. Do what you must. That's what I did. Look, I don't have time to tell you the whole story, but there is a book, written by two terribly nice men, all about what happened last time. They think they made the story up, but actually we put it in their heads.'

'Run a bookshop?'

'Yes, I'm leaving you this one. It's my time, and I think you would be perfect.'

'Your time?'

Lights dimmed and shadows deepened.

'It's been 25 years, 6 months, 5 days and 79 minutes since the man I loved died in my arms out there. I think he's waited long enough for me, don't you?'

'But if you really are an angel and a demon…'

'They took that away from us. A year after it all happened, Crowley woke up and smiled at me and his eyes were brown, not yellow. Still beautiful, but human. We were no longer angel and demon. We didn't mind. We had a life to live. Twenty years seems like a heartbeat if you're immortal, but so long if you are human, and we had twenty years. But he always forgot he was mortal, and would do stupid things like run across the road without looking. He was hit by a car in that street just out there. He'd been buying muffins for me and wanted to get them back while they were still warm. I just managed to get out there in time to hold him before he died. I told him to wait for me, and I know he has.'

'25 years…'

'He waited 6000 for me. But it has been a long time. I have never gone 25 years without seeing Crowley, not since the first few years. And even when we were apart, I knew he was there, in the world. If I needed him, he came, every time, no matter what the reason. I know he hasn't moved on. I know he's there, waiting. I even still see him, sometimes, in the shadow, leaning up against that pillar, pouring me a drink, waiting, as he always did.'

Nanny and the gardener walking round the lawn arm in arm, laughing uproariously.

Brother Francis presenting Nanny with a red rose, and Nanny murmuring 'bit much' and Francis murmuring 'I can take it back if you don't like it' – but she kept it, and pressed it between the pages of a copy of Hamlet.

Nanny standing by the window, watching Francis working in the garden for ages.

And from somewhere, memories that were not Tony's own began to flood in

Two men, standing together, laughing, watching Much Ado about Nothing in an old theatre.

An angel and a demon walking up Everest to see the sun rise.

A demon listening to an angel trying to tempt a man into running off with his firm's savings but also give it all to the poor.

Two friends strolling along the path in a park, feeding the ducks. As one duck sinks, the fair one tells the red haired one 'really, my dear,' and the duck comes back to life again.

One man, clutching his hat and looking worried, standing by the side of the bed of the red-haired sleeping man, whispering 'it's been ten years, wake up, I need to apologise.'

Friends dancing together as the lights go back on in Piccadilly Circus as the war ends.

A man sitting in a car alone, stroking a thermos, wondering what he can do.

A man alone in a bookshop, happy and secure and trying not to think about what he is missing or the constant pain in his heart.

A man alone in a grey room, staring at a statue he took from a ruined church, never forgetting he is fallen.

Angels demanding loyalty.

Demons demanding pain.

Two men, hand in hand on a bus.

Two lovers, dining at the Ritz.

Two lovers, healing each other.

Two lovers, discovering their joy in each other.

Two lovers, whispering long into the night, explaining and re-living and understanding

Two lovers living for each other, for twenty years, fifty, six thousand years.

Tony took a deep breath. He looked up, tears in his eyes. Mr Fell – Aziraphale, the angel, sits there, watching him. He looks very thin, and very small, and yet, he glows.

'I lost him,' he said. 'For 25 years, 6 months, 3 weeks, 5 days and 80 minutes, he has been nothing but memories, and I just gave them to you.'

'I think I might have had a few of his too.'

Aziraphale smiled.

'Maybe. He always did have a habit of pulling one more trick out of his hat, if needed. He's here now, I think. I'll be gone soon. Do you understand?'

'Run the bookshop. Be in love. Do what I must.'

'Good. You won't be alone. I suspect Anathema and Adam will be here by morning. And your love too. This is a place of love.'

'You're leaving me? I don't know what to do!'

Aziraphale looked at him, and then past him. Warlock looked back.

A thin young man with red hair, dressed all in black, leaned against the pillar, pouring wine into a glass.

'Come on, angel,' he said. When Warlock looked back at Aziraphale, he could see he was young again too, glowing and beautiful.

'Choose your own side, Warlock. It's what we raised you do to.'

He looked up at Crowley, and smiled.

'Oh, my dear.' He walked towards him, his hand held out, and for one moment, the shop was filled with light.

When the light was gone, there was nothing left. Tony heard the shop bell rang, and he turned to see Adam come in and come to the back.

'They're together,' Warlock said. Adam nodded, understanding.

The two men, the children of the Apocalypse sat, and drank together in Mr Fell's bookshop, and talked.