The Seven Deadlies

Marian Keyes

CHAPTER ONE: A MOMENT OF GRACE

I am an angel. Go on, have a good laugh, but, really I am. An angel. A proper, fully paid-up heavenly one with wings, halo, the whole lot.

And I'm in Los Angeles on a mission. A mission from God, since you ask.

Which all sounds very important but to be honest with you the reason I'm here isn't such a great one. Some angels just have a natural aptitude for the job. I, unfortunately, am not one of them, so I've been sent to earth on a course. In order that I can help humans I need to understand them. So while I'm here I have to commit — but not TOO enthusiastically, of course — each of the seven deadly sins. I've got seven days to do it in.

"Envy, Sloth, Greed," Ibrox, my superior listed off. "Gluttony, Anger, Envy — no I said Envy already, didn't I? I can never remember the seven. It's the same with the seven dwarves, I can usually do five, then I just draw a blank.

You try."

"Grumpy, Dopey, Snee…"

"No! The seven deadlies."

"Sorry. OK, Greed, Envy, Sloth, Anger, Gluttony…" I looked at him helplessly.

"Pride," he supplied. "And you'll remember the seventh."

So off I went. And here I am in Silverlake, Los Angeles, standing outside the apartment which is going to be home for the next week. Apparently I've been recommended by a friend of a friend of a friend and I will have two roommates — Nick, an actor who plays a lot of pyschopaths and Tandy, an actress who gets offered slutty-girl roles a lot.

I rang the bell. No one came. I rang again and heard some muffled shouting from inside. Then a man wrenched open the door. "What?!" He was a mess — wild hair, wild eyes. Looks like this Nick is a method actor. And I wasn't too happy about the bad smell, either, but I'm sure they placed me here for a reason….

I stuck out my hand and gave him my biggest smile.

"I'm Grace and you must be Nick!" I was really 'on'.

"And you must be out of your mind," he growled.

Wrong apartment! Mine was the next one along. See what I mean about me being lousy angel? Could you imagine if I was the Archangel Gabriel? I'd probably call to the wrong house and tell the wrong woman that she was about to become the mother of God. I'll never make the big time, not if I carry on like this.

I moved one apartment along and Tandy answered the door. She gave me a speedy but thorough once-over and when she saw that she was thinner than me, she visibly relaxed and gave me a great big old smile. "Come on in!"

She was really, really pretty, but to be honest I could see why she kept getting the hooker-type roles. Her lips were so pneumatic they looked as if they were about to burst and she was x-ray skinny, apart from a very large pair of breasts which clearly belonged on a different body.

"Nick, come and say hey to your new roommate," She called.

In came Nick. I took one look at him and remembered the elusive seventh sin. Lust!

"Hey," he said vaguely.

Hey, indeed!

Dark-haired, gangly and loose-limbed, his eyes have a "not-known-at-this-address" distance to them. Just out of curiosity, I wondered if I was his type. I look a bit like those Renaissance paintings of angels, except without the halo, the wings and the nakedness —no need to freak people out, I always say. But I have all the other stuff — blonde curly hair, a round, rosy-cheeked face and I'm a little plumper than they generally seem to like them in Los Angeles.

Just then a girl emerged into the room after Nick. She was weeping.

"Nick…" she beseeched, trying to grab onto him. She was sloe-eyed, silky-haired and tiny. With a sudden, fierce passion, I wanted to be her.

"Take care, baby." He steered her, very firmly, to the door. "Missing you already."

"But…" She tried again. Nick kissed her tenderly on her forehead, while managing to deposit her in the hallway.

From the way Tandy rolled her eyes at me, this clearly happened a lot.

Nick clicked the door shut, waited, tensed against a storm of crying and yelling from outside, then relaxed when nothing happened. She'd obviously decided to limp away and lick her wounds quietly. "Why do I always hurt those I love?" He inquired of no one in particular, then absent-mindedly left the room.

You know what? I was suddenly very glad I wasn't that dainty, exquisite girl.

"Granola," Tandy called. "Come and meet Grace."

For the first time I noticed a little white terrier, sitting alert in a basket. He was staring, as though mesmerized by me. Yikes! You can fool people into believing you're a human being, but animals work on a different level. Granola knew there was something very weird about me.

"What is wrong with you, doggie?" Tandy coaxed.

"OK," she shrugged. "Be rude. So Grace, you wanna go out tonight and get trashed on strawberry cheesecake martinis?"

"That would be delightful!" I'd just been shot through with that lonesome, away-from-home feeling. Getting trashed sounded like exactly what I needed.

*

Later, as we left to go out, I told Tandy about calling first to the wrong apartment.

"You did what? You called into crazy Karl's?" She was horrified. "He is like, a totally insane alcoholic. He's always yelling and howling at the moon, like a crazy dog.

"Although," she said, as we passed his door, "He's quiet right now." She sounded almost disappointed.

As we drove along, palm trees were silhouetted against the skyline. The sun was setting and the sky was layered with colours: pale blue low down, rising and darkening overhead to a deep luminous blue, in which the first twinkling stars were set like diamonds.

We went to a bar on Sunset. It was a young, cool, vibey place, packed with good-looking people. If I hadn't been with Tandy I'd have been too intimidated to go in.

Almost as soon as we sat down a bottle of champagne was sent over by a handsome dude who had the hots for Tandy. To my great disappointment she refused to accept it. "I totally don't want to meet him so it wouldn't be fair," she insisted.

"Ohhh-kaaay."

Over flavoured martinis I got Tandy's life story. She came from a rich, academic family back East. Her elder sister had a Phd in something scarily impressive and managed to run a home and was very good at tennis. Her younger sister made her first four million by setting up a dot.com site selling cool purses and she was so good at horse riding she could have made the Olympic team if she'd wanted. Tandy's entire family was aghast at her decision to become an actress and even more aghast that she worked as a temp while waiting to hit the big time.

"It's hard when you come from a place where everyone else is perfect," she said wearily.

Tell me about it!

"So how about you?" Tandy asked. "You're an actress too?"

They've given me a whole new identity, a bit like the Witness Protection Program. Apparently I'm an actress, but on account of there being a little too much of me, my resume shows only wallpaper parts — the fat best friend, the jolly fat work colleague, the weird fat roommate. Fat being the common thread.

"And where are you from?"

Now that was a tricky one. Before I'd left we just couldn't get my accent right, no matter how hard we tried. So we decided that I'd say I was originally from Ireland, but that I'd moved around a lot on account of my dad's job.

"So what age are you?" Tandy asked.

I froze. What age was I? In real time I was several hundred millennia, but in LA years…? What had they told me?

"It's okay," she whispered. "Same for me. My resume says twenty-two years old, but I'm actually in my mid-twenties."

"Looking good."

"Well, twenty-seven," she admitted with a sigh.

"And I'm twenty-nine." I'd just remembered.

"So am I."

We gazed at each other fondly and decided to order another round of martinis. I was having a Really Good Time, but I mustn't forget that I was here to WORK.

I got my first break when we went to the ladies' room to fix our make-up.

Tandy held a little bottle up to me. "You want some Envy?"

Envy! One of my seven deadlies. "You mean…in that container…is Envy?"

She twisted the label-side towards her and studied it quizzically. "'S'what it says, right?"

I couldn't believe my luck. I'd only been here a few hours and already I was making progress. They had told me I would experience the sins in the most unexpected ways. Now I knew what they meant.

Tandy squirted me and I beamed at her from my cloud of fragrant mist. One down, six to go.

CHAPTER TWO

Sleep is a wonderful thing. We don't have it where I come from. You probably think angels spend most of their time in contemplation and you'd be correct.

But I'm a human now, right? At least I am for the next seven days, so when in Rome… (except it's actually Los Angeles I'm in) I will sleep, I will eat, I will work, and in the process commit the seven deadly sins. Then I can go home a better, wiser, more experienced angel and no-one will ever refer to me again as, "Not the sharpest knife in the drawer."

Already I was ahead of the game. On earth less than twenty-four hours I'd got sprayed with Envy.

Would it be possible to just proceed to the local mall and buy Pride, Gluttony, Anger, Sloth and…and… the others, (I'll remember in a minute what they are), experience the lot in half an hour and spend the rest of the week working on my tan? Unfortunately a discreet inquiry revealed that none of the other deadly sins were available in perfume form.

I awoke into a citrus-bright morning and I was hungry. Nick was in the kitchen, looking dark and moody, hunched over a bowl of marshmallow cheerios.

"Sleep well?" He asked.

"Yeah! It was great, I kinda saw all these movies in my head."

He looked at me like I was insane. "Dreams," he said faintly.

Yikes! I've got to remember that all this stuff is normal for humans.

Luckily, just then the phone rang and Nick, giving me another odd look, threw himself at it. A high-pitched gibbering, like the noise a broken cassette makes, reached me. A woman. Of course. This was Nick, after all.

She sounded upset. Of course. This was Nick, after all. "Sure, baby," he crooned, "I know baby, I'm sorry baby, I never meant to hurt you, baby. Take care, baby. Bye."

He slammed down the phone and sighed. Oh, what a sigh.

The noise of a key scratching at the door heralded the arrival of Tandy, back from walking her dog.

Granola raced into the room, then stopped dead when he saw me. Poor dog, I was freaking him OUT. He hovered around me, like he was in a trance.

Tandy's gorgeous face was flushed and angry. "Why do I go to the dog-park? Like, WHY?"

"So your liddil doggie can play with the other liddil doggies," Nick drawled.

"I go to meet men!" She addressed her rant to me. "Instead I get all these women coming up to me. How old is Granola? How long have I had him? What is the point?"

"Calm down," Nick said. "Eat something. Oh no, I forgot, you don't do that, do you?"

"So, Grace," Tandy ignored him, "What are you gonna do today?"

Actually, today I was hoping to commit Sloth. Just as soon as I found out what it was. But I had to play my part as a wannabe actress from Smallsville looking for a foot in Hollywood's door. "I'm meeting with an agent. There's a chance she might take me on."

On account of Nick and Tandy also being actors this provoked a storm of enthusiastic enquiry. Who was she? Who did she represent?

In the middle of their interrogation the phone rang again. Another woman for Nick. "I hear you, baby," he murmured. "But I never said I wanted a relationship."

"Why do I always hurt those I love?" Tandy said, in a brooding voice that was uncannily like Nick's.

Nick glared at Tandy. Tandy glared back.

I went to get ready for my meeting. I'd been sent to earth with great clothes, everything a girl would need.

"Oh my God, I love your purse," Tandy breathed reverentially. Then, beside me, I felt her tense up. "But, but isn't this from the new collection? I thought you couldn't buy it for another six months!"

Of course Tandy would know! Her high-achieving sister — well, one of her high-achieving sisters — owned a dot.com site selling cool purses. I had to mumble something about knowing someone in the design room and getting a sample copy. Honestly, sometimes they can be so inefficient Up There. And they have the nerve to complain about me….

As I was leaving I hesitated and said, "This may sound a little weird, but do either of you know what Sloth is?"

"You're right," Tandy said. "It sounds a little weird."

"It's an animal," Nick said. "A small British animal. I'm pretty sure."

I wasn't so sure. Like, how could I commit a small British animal?

*

To be fair to my superiors they've pulled out all the stops to equip me for life in Los Angeles — I've a hire car and, even better, the ability to drive it, a fake resume and a glossy collection of 8 by 12 headshots.

As I drove under clear blue skies and along palm fringed highways to Beverley Hills, I passed skanky-looking motels, dentists, adobe-style houses, nail-salons, gun shops, pet care outlets, tanning salons, more dentists… I felt like I was living in a movie.

I wondered about the personality I've been given. Generally, I don't seem to be too neurotic, I haven't had one urge to self-mutilate. I also seem to be punctual. And a non-smoker. All a little dull, but hey.

The agent, Robyn Dude, was a power-suited power-house. She spoke extremely quickly, out of one side of her mouth. She's the kind of woman who'd look magnificent pulling the pin out of a grenade with her teeth.

"Yeah, I think we could get you some parts. But," she said. "I'm going to give it to you straight. Your face is great, that cherubic look is kinda now, but if you don't drop to ninety pounds, soaking wet, you're gonna be playing character parts for, like, forever."

"The fat best friend, the fat room-mate," I said, almost sulkily.

"Right!"

I felt a strange resentment. Okay, this isn't my body, I've only got it on loan and only for a week, at that, but couldn't they have given me something a little more appropriate for an actress?

There seemed to be nothing further to say. Just before I left something occurred to me. "Do you know the meaning of the word Sloth?" I asked.

Her face filled with dark colour and she looked like she might pop. She opened her mouth and YELLED, "No-one works as hard as me. No-one. Okay, we'll try and get you some non-fat parts, if that's how you feel, but you better get to a spinning class right now and don't leave until you've dropped three dress sizes!"

I had no clue what she was talking about. None. Nervously, I thanked her for her time and gratefully closed the door on her. In the waiting room was a smart-looking young woman. Or at least she was wearing those rectangular, tortoiseshell-framed spectacles that make people look either smart or like they're trying just that bit too hard to be cool.

On impulse I said, "Excuse me, ma'am, sorry to bother you, but do you know what Sloth is?"

She shrank back against the wall like I was a crazy woman.

"Sorry," I mumbled, making for the sunshine and my car.

"It means lazy," she called after me.

"So it's not a small British animal?" I called back.

"No, that's a stoat." So she wasn't just a pretty pair of spectacles!

And Sloth meant being lazy. Lazy. No wonder Robyn Dude had been so pissed!

I drove home, depleted of any energy. All this being human was EXHAUSTING. For the rest of the day I lay on the sofa, watched talk shows and energetically committed sloth. I also ate many, many small, round wonderful things. Pringles, I believe they were called.

CHAPTER THREE

The following day, Los Angeles behaved totally out of character — it was raining. As I watched the drops scoot down the window, I composed a letter of complaint in my head. 'I was DISTINCTLY promised blue skies and endless sunshine, yadda, yadda. Imagine my disappointment… I want my money back.'

Tandy and Nick went to work and I hung around the mall, but eventually I HAD to return to the apartment — lured by savoury snacks.

When Nick came home from work he did a bit of that moody prowling around the room stuff that he's so good at, then came to a halt in front of me.

"You've eaten that whole tube of Pringles. You glutton!"

"I'm a glutton?" I asked faintly, hardly unable to believe my good luck. "Do you mean that I'm committing…" I could hardly say the word with excitement, "…Gluttony."

"Hey, I'm kidding," he smiled. "'S'just nice to see someone eating around here now and again." He looked meaningfully at Tandy's bedroom door as he said this.

"It's not a problem." I was very excited. "I just need to know if being a glutton is the same as committing Gluttony."

"Yeah, I guess," he admitted reluctantly.

There goes Gluttony off my list. And it had been great! Almost as comforting as Sloth. And Envy had smelt very nice. I could see why you humans enjoyed the seven deadly sins so much. My empathy and understanding was simply exploding. Next on my list was, let me see, Lust perhaps. Or Greed.

"You can be…" Nick studied me, "…a little strange, sometimes."

I swallowed, suddenly nervous. Of course I can be a little strange, sometimes. He should try being an angel, masquerading as a human, deposited on earth with one week to experience all seven of the deadly sins!

He was still watching me. The expression in those eyes of his stirred something within me.

"Well, I'm a woman," I said heartily. "Think of a man, then subtract all reason and intellect!"

This got a half-hearted laugh out of him.

"How was your day?" He asked cautiously. "Did your agent call?"

"No, seeing as how I haven't dropped twenty pounds since yesterday. How was your day? In fact, what do you do?"

"I work as a carpenter. Just until I get my big Hollywood break," he said dryly.

"I thought all resting actors worked as bellhops."

"Not me. I haven't got the right look for a bellhop."

I knew what he meant. He was oddly attractive but he did have a touch of the psychopath about him. No wonder he'd got typecast as a man who can hold his hand in a flame while remaining impassive.

"Well, you know my closet door? It is the WORST piece of carpentry I've ever seen. Could you fix it for me?" I asked.

"Fix it? Well, actually, I made it."

"Whoops," I said, my at-the-best-of-times rosy face igniting into an inferno of shame. "Sorry, I…er, sorry."

Come home Tandy, oh please, come home.

Just then Tandy walked though the door. I am not a very accomplished angel, but sometimes, if I try really, really hard I can make things happen.

"You're early," Nick accused.

"Yeah, I am," Tandy looked in confusion at her watch. "What's going on? It's quarter of six now but I didn't leave work until six thirty. I musta read five thirty as six thirty. Or something… That is so spooky…"

Yes, I felt ashamed, since you ask. Freaking her out like that.

Only the fantastic news she'd had earlier in the day was enough to distract her from my shameful manipulations in the space-time continuum. She'd been sent a script by her agent and she was going for an audition in the morning.

"Isn't that the best news? So I'm going to my room to learn my lines."

I have to admit I was disappointed. I'd been hoping we could get dressed up, go out to a bar, flirt with men and see if I could get a Lust thing going on with one of them.

"I just hope," she sighed, "That Crazy Karl doesn't do anything too crazy tonight. I could use a good night's sleep."

"What's with Crazy Karl?" Nick suddenly sat to attention and looked at the wall that divided the two apartments. "It's very quiet out there."

"Too quiet," the three of us chorused.

"But seriously, we haven't had to call the cops in days. There hasn't been one drunken tantrum from him since…since Sunday."

"Not since Grace called on him."

"Grace called on him?" Nick sounded slightly too interested.

"When I first arrived I got the wrong apartment," I hastily explained. "He told me I was out of my mind."

"Sounds like Karl."

*

Tandy went to her room with Granola who was still totally freaked by me. He hid in his basket when I was around but watched me, as though mesmerized.

I spent the evening watching TV, while a succession of heartbroken women kept Nick on the phone murmuring, "I know, baby, I'm sorry, baby, you'll meet someone else, baby, no, your life is not over, baby…"

I had another great night sleeping, with all those movies showing in my head. The plots were a little far-fetched and inconclusive at times, but so what? And I awoke to another dazzling Los Angeles day.

Nick wasn't much of a talker first thing. In fact he wasn't much of a talker at any time of the day. In silence he hunched over his cereal (apple and cinnamon fruit-loops this morning) while I sipped coffee.

When Tandy marched into the kitchen, I actually thought she'd just got home after a night of hard partying. She wore a barely-there pink dress, which revealed her long, lean, gold-leaf legs. Pink marabou-feathered, spindly-heeled sandals were on her sparkly-toed feet. Her car-tire lips were defiantly sexy, her honey-blonde hair a heavy, swishy sheet and her hipbones were sharp enough to fillet plaice. She was so THIN.

"Guys," she commanded, "I want to know if you want to sleep with me?"

"Suuuurrrre." Nick's eyes were half-closed as he looked her up and down appreciatively.

"Grace?"

"Sure. If I was gay." Except I didn't think I was.

"Excellent," She smacked those lips with satisfaction. "That part is SO mine." She handed me the script. "Will you do a read-through with me?"

I began, but two lines in I had to stop. "But Tandy…"

"What?"

"Your part. You're supposed to be a nun dying of cancer."

"So?" Her stance got even more defiant.

"So you look like a hooker," Nick interrupted.

"It doesn't matter," Tandy said in exasperation. "This is Hollywood. Doesn't matter if I'm playing a crack addict dying of Aids, a nine-month pregnant woman, or a suicidal depressive, I'll never get the part unless every man in that casting room wants to sleep with me!"

Her words fell into shocked silence.

Nick was the first to break it. "Fair enough," he conceded.

"Read," she ordered me.

"Okay. 'But Sister Martha, you must rest!'"

"'How can I rest? Those poor, motherless children need me…'"

And you know what? Tandy gave amazingly good Nun Dying of Cancer. Her interpretation was moving and tender with just the right hint of steel. She was GREAT.

CHAPTER FOUR

Nick and I waved Tandy off by yelling affirmations at her. "You will get the part, you will get the part. Good luck, break a leg!"

As I closed the door I was sorry I'd said the 'break a leg' bit. Tandy's endless legs looked just about thin enough to break all by themselves.

All I'd meant was I'd wanted her to get the part because I really liked her. Well, I would I suppose. Being an angel I tend to like everyone, even the bad ones. I don't get much choice in the matter. But there was something very sweet and vulnerable about Tandy that touched me, something that was totally at odds with her sassy, sexy appearance.

Nick hung around for a little longer, somehow managing to look brooding and mysterious as he ate another bowl of cereal. (Lucky Charms, this time.) "I gotta take off." He clattered his bowl into the dishwasher. "Work calls. Have a good day." Then he swung himself away with the fluid, careless grace that has half the women in the greater Los Angeles area beating down his door.

Then — apart from Granola, the dog, who still wouldn't come near me — I was alone. So what was I to do? I took stock of the situation. This was my fourth day on earth and so far I'd managed to commit three of the seven deadly sins I'd been commissioned to do. I had less than four days left to do Greed, Anger, Pride and…and…what was the other one, oh yeah. Lust, how could I forget?

A dangerous little thought wriggled in —the apartment complex had a pool. How about if I lay beside it and scoped for men? Surely that way there was a very good chance of taking care of Lust?

And when I rummaged among the clothes I'd been given for my mission, I found a sleek jade bikini, with a matching sarong. This convinced me that catching some rays was the Right Thing To Do. There was only one other person by the pool. A man — as luck would have it. But the wrong kind of man. He was astonishingly thin and pale. You don't get too many pale people in Los Angeles. On the other hand you get plenty who are thin, in fact it's very hard to find people who aren't. But this man looked thin in the way someone who's been ill for a very long time looks thin. He lay inert on a sunbed, asleep behind his shades.

I tried a couple of exploratory swings past him but no dice. So I stretched myself out on a bed and Thought About Things.

If I'd been a perfect, superbeing, with an innate grasp of humanity I'd never have been sent here. Perhaps it was A Good Thing that I hadn't been a high-achiever. Dreamily I let the sun beat down on me while I wrestled with a philosophical conundrum: can angels get sunburnt?

After a while the worry became compelling so I jumped in my car, drove to the nearest drugstore and bought a bottle of factor

25. But when I came out of the store, disaster struck. Suddenly I heard myself calling, "Hey! That's my car."

The two front wheels were off the ground, attached to a hook, attached to a truck. I was being towed! A man in a uniform said, "You shouldn'ta parked there." A feeling stirred in me. A strange, outward spiraling rush where I had an irresistible impulse to physically assault this man.

"I was only in there for five minutes!" I yelled. My hand had balled itself into a fist and it seemed to be well on course to collide with the man's face.

"Hey, lady, no need to get so angry." "I'm angry?" I squeaked. "Damn straight you're angry." I took a moment — and he was right. I do believe I'm experiencing …ANGER! I lunged toward the man and he put his hand up to deflect the blow. But there was no blow. Instead I kissed him. "Thank you so much, sir." I danced around with glee.

He was transfixed.

"Aw, hey." He gestured to another man who was in the truck. "What the hell. She was only five minutes. Give her her car."

"No, no, no," I insisted, in delight. "You're just doing your job."

A small crowd had gathered. As my car was lowered back to the ground, they burst into applause.

"This kinda thing," I heard one of the onlookers say, as I drove away, "Restores your faith in human nature."

Back by the pool, slathered in sun-lotion, my pale, bony man was still immobile. Anxiety about his tender skin getting burnt began to gnaw at me. Gently, taking care not to wake him, I gave him a speedy once-over with my factor 25. But as I rubbed lotion into his arm I saw that he'd lifted his shades and was staring at me quizzically out of pale blue eyes.

"You angel," he said hoarsely.

"Sssshhh," I hissed — angrily, as it happens, now that I knew how to feel it.

The last thing we wanted was him figuring out what I was. Either he'd get locked up or I would.

*

That evening, back at the ranch, things weren't so good. Not only had Tandy not got the part she'd been up for but they'd told her she'd never make it because her look is 'so over.'

"What can I do?" She moaned. "This is how I look. What am I supposed to do?"

"Plastic surgery?" Nick suggested.

"I've had it," she yelled.

"Really?" I asked curiously. "What exactly?"

"Nose, lips, eyelids, cheekbones."

"Boobs," Nick chipped in. "You forgot your boobs."

She lifted her face from her hands just long enough to SCORCH him with a look.

"But you have so much talent," I reminded her.

"Talent, shmalent." She moaned, with a scornful wave of her hand. "This is Hollywood. What use to me is talent?"

And the awful thing is she was right. I felt really bad for her. How hard must it have been to defy her high-achieving, academic family and become an actress? No wonder she was so driven, she felt she had so much to prove.

She turned her tear-stained face to mine. ""We must go out and drink white chocolate martinis."

"That's the closest you get to a square meal, right?" Nick said.

"Gimme a break! I eat. Often."

"Oh yeah, I forgot. You had an aspirin last Tuesday."

"I'm an actress! Eating isn't an option."

"I'm giving you a hard time because I care about you."

"You don't care about anyone but yourself."

"Not true."

"Is true."

"Guys, guys," I said hastily. "Break it up."

"I'm going to the store." Nick swung moodily from the room.

Fifteen minutes later he was back, looking out of his MIND with worry.

"You are NOT going to believe this, I've just met crazy Karl, our friendly neighborhood alcoholic -"

" —He pulled a knife on you?" Tandy asked, in alarm.

"No, far worse. He said hey and asked me how I was."

"Then he asked you for a dollar?"

"No, he said he was real sorry for all the crazy stuff, the yelling and the howling like a dog. Says it won't happen again. He's cleaned up his act."

"I'm gonna miss him howling like a dog," Tandy admitted. "So what's happened to him?"

"Dunno," Nick shrugged. "'Far as I can see he hasn't been the same since Grace called in on him."

"I met the guy for two seconds," I

defended myself.

"What is it about you?" Nick considered me with his bleak dark eyes.

*

Later in some groovy bar, after three different men asked for and didn't get Tandy's number, she got deservedly maudlin about her audition.

"They way they treat people is the way I used to treat shoes. I usta stroll through the store, ignoring some, picking others up, then saying the most HURTFUL stuff."

"Like?"

"Like… too high, weird heel, wrong colour, too low. It's so CRUEL."

People at the other tables were beginning to look. I nodded sympathetically.

"And now when I'm at the market buying, like, apples, I pick the shiniest, reddest ones, RIGHT? But I try to send out vibes to the apples I left behind, to let them know that just because I didn't choose them doesn't mean that they're all not WORTHWHILE and UNIQUE. In case any of them feel BAD, you know? Oh no!"

Two martinis had just arrived courtesy of a man who was winking energetically from across the room.

"Take them back," Tandy beseeched the waiter. "Please."

"He's really cute," I tried to persuade her.

"Thank you," the waiter said, warmly.

"So are you."

"I…um… actually meant the man who'd sent the drinks," I explained. "But thank you."

CHAPTER FIVE

The next day Tandy had already left for her job before Nick surfaced, wafting into the kitchen in a morning-fresh, citrus cloud. He has a strangely alluring unkempt look about him, and he always looks like he could do with a good scrub. Even when he's just had one. Even when he's actually having one, according to Tandy, who'd admitted last night that she'd had a shower and sex with him one 'horrible' (her word) evening when they'd both had about ten vodkatinis too many.

"Won't you be late for work?" I asked him.

"Not going to work today, Grace."

"Why not?"

"Audition."

"That's so cool! Why didn't you say?"

He shrugged. "Tandy was so bummed out over her lousy audition yesterday I thought telling her about mine might bring her down."

"So what's the part?"

"Mild-mannered, happily married father of three who blows the whistle on a chemical company who's poisoning the water system."

"Really? That's great." And what a change from the stalker/slasher/wacko parts he was usually up for!

"Nah, just kidding," he slung himself at the table. "Psychopath. Neo-nazi tendencies. Impressive collection of knives."

As he ate his Captain Crunch, he looked kind of depressed.

Just then the phone rang. Another heartbroken woman for Nick. Except it wasn't. The call was for me! And there was only one person in Los Angeles who had my number: Robyn Dude, theatrical agent and asskicker extraordinaire. This could only mean one thing

-an audition!

I know I'm not a human being. I know I'm an angel whose mind is on higher things. Or at least it should be. But when Robyn growled at me to show up at some suite in Wilshire with my resume and headshots, I suddenly wanted that part. Fiercely. Violently.

So desperately that for a while I forgot why I was actually on earth. Seven Deadly Sins, I reminded myself sternly. You've only done Envy, Sloth,Gluttony and Anger, you've got three more to do and only three days to do them in. Perhaps today I'd see if I could tick off, ooh, lets see, how about… Pride! (And if I got the part it would be a bonus.)

"Tell me what you know about Pride," I said to Nick.

"It comes before a fall," He murmured darkly. Nick is good at murmuring things darkly. He rarely communicates in any other way. That's why there are so many women in love with him.

"That's all you can tell me?"

"Pride is a big ole march they have in

San Francisco every year."

"Ohhh-kaaaay." Why did I expect him to make sense? After all, this was the man who'd told me that Sloth was a small British animal.

Nick loped off to his audition and I dressed for mine. The part was for the fat, supportive sister of the kooky, beautiful heroine. Another fat girl part to add to my fat girl resume…

*

In the suite in Wilshire there were dozens of us, all doing our best to exude fat, supportive, sisterly energy. But in a strange, smug way I suspected I was the best. At one hundred and twelve pounds I was certainly the fattest and, humming in a warm place inside me, was the conviction that that part was MINE.

So sure of myself was I that I was able to chatter brightly to the sweet girl next to me. Who confided that nothing had gone right in her life for so long that she was beginning to suspect her ex-boyfriend had put a curse on her. Her car had gotten stolen, her highlights had turned a funny colour and she hadn't worked in six months. When I heard my name being called, I touched her on the shoulder and said, "I hope you get the part."

"I hope you do too," she replied. Which was a kind of stupid conversation because there was only one part and there were two of us, but I guess we were bonding.

I'd never been to an audition before but having done a run-through with Tandy for her audition I knew exactly what to do. A girl called Lana fed me my lines and Wayne, the director watched from the back of the room.

"I am so kurrr-ay-zee," Lana said, acting the part of the kooky heroine.

"Hahaha," I laughed, in what I hoped was a fat, supportive, sisterly way.

"THANK YOU," Wayne shouted.

"You're welcome," I beamed, then turned back to Lana, waiting to be fed my next line. She remained oddly silent.

"Go ahead," I encouraged.

"THANK YOU," Wayne called again. "You can go now."

"But I'm not finished." I held up my page of dialogue.

"We would like you to leave now."

Then I understood. When they shout, "THANK YOU," they're not actually thanking you, they're telling you that you stink. As I slunk towards the door, Wayne yelled, "NEXT!" I was barely aware of the nice girl I'd been talking to in the waiting room being ushered in past me.

I was crushed. CRUSHED. Tandy had warned me about auditions: meat racks, cattle markets, where they treat you as if you're not human. (Well, obviously I'm not, but how were they to know.)

As I trudged towards my car I wanted to go home. Not home to Silverlake, but home home. If only I'd shown better aptitude for being an angel I wouldn't be here, committing sins and trying to discern what it was like to be human.

I was dying from humiliation. Especially because I'd been so sure I'd get the part. I burned as I remembered how I'd thought I was so all that when I wasn't. What's that Nick had said? — "Pride comes before a fall." And he'd been right. I'd certainly taken a tumble….

Then the sense of that began to dawn on me. If I'd had the fall, I must've had pride. Pride.

And all at once it was as if the sun had come out from behind the clouds. I began to feel better. I'd done five now. Only Greed and…and…what was the other one? Oh right, Lust. Only Greed and Lust to go.

There was the sound of running feet behind me. It was the sweet girl I'd spoken to in the waiting room. "I got the part," she gasped. "They just took one look at me, before I'd even read and they said, 'You're our Mary Ann.'

"It's totally weird," she said. "They don't usually do it this way. Like, never. They've sent everyone else away."

And sure enough, flooding out into the carpark came a stream of supportive, sisterly women, now looking peeved and disappointed. A disgruntled mutter reached me.

"It's like you were my good-luck charm or something…" She looked at me in a kind of confused wonder, a little like the way Granola the dog does.

"You know what? I'm really happy for you," I said, because I actually was.

*

To celebrate my ritual humiliation at the audition I went to a hot new bar with Tandy for apple martinis. It was wall-to-wall beautiful people.

"Why was it horrible?" I asked.

"What?"

"You said when you slept with Nick that it was horrible."

"The sleeping bit wasn't horrible," she said awkwardly. "It was afterwards…he never mentioned it again. And there were — are — all these other girls."

I nodded. There were a lot of girls around Nick.

"No thank you, she doesn't want it." Irritably I shooed away a waiter who'd showed up with a bottle of champagne and a phone number.

"No, wait. Which guy?" Tandy asked.

"The gentleman raising his glass like a character in a low-rent James Bond movie," The waiter said politely. "May he join you?"

"Sure," Tandy sighed. "If it's okay with you, Grace?"

"Er, sure."

By the time we left two hours later Tandy had agreed to go on a date with James — I'm sure that wasn't his real name — the following evening.

Back home Nick had celebrated getting the part of the neo-nazi psycho by going to the movies. With Karl.

"Crazy alcoholic Karl?" Tandy was aghast.

"Who hasn't had a drink since Sunday," Nick replied.

"He was talking about you," he addressed this to me. "He decided to stop drinking, he says, when he had a moment of Grace."

"Just because my name is Grace doesn't mean it's ANYTHING to do with me."

"What is it about you?" Nick stared at me, lost in consideration.

"Nothing. There's nothing about me."

CHAPTER SIX

Tandy and I stood in the Rodeo Drive store, struck dumb by the beauty of the leather goods before us — the sturdy, curvy shapes, the way the light caught the devilishly pliant hide, the slender long handles just begging to be slung over our shoulders.

I wanted to possess them so badly.

"Other people go to art galleries," Tandy admitted. "I come here and look at the purses. They're so beautiful that sometimes I cry. I used to be like that about shoes, but — "

" — Purses are the new shoes," I finished for her. I may have been on earth for only six days, but I'd taken care to learn the most important stuff. That kind of knowledge would take me anywhere.

"When I do my first not-straight-to-video movie," she promised, "I'm going to come in here and buy every purse they have."

"Me too. When I play my first non-fat girl part," I said.

You might think that because I'm an angel I could just pull some stunt and magic away a Prada purse for myself. But it's not that simple — especially not for me. Those lucky creatures with a natural aptitude for angelhood might be able to secret Prada purses anywhere they wanted. But on account of me being a fairly lousy angel, it was out of the question.

Even going the traditional route and actually paying wasn't an option. I'd been given some money for my seven days on earth. A fairly generous per diem, but only enough to cover food and gas, not Prada bowling bags.

Anyway, I wasn't on earth to enjoy myself. On with the job in hand.

I turned to Tandy. "Can I ask you something?" OK, I admit it was a trick question. "Is it greedy to want to steal one of these purses?"

Tandy was appalled. "Greedy? It's totally normal."

I tried again." Would it be greedy to want to steal more than one of these purses?"

"Depends. What were you planning on doing with the both of them?"

"BOTH? Well, I was thinking of more than two."

This seemed to impress her.

"Okay, what you would do with them all? You can't really wear more than two at the one time."

"I'd have some next to my bed so they'd be the first thing I'd see when I woke up. I might frame some and hang them on my wall and I'd keep the rest in my closet, and when I was feeling blue I'd take them out and kiss them."

After an awkward pause she asked, "Are you going to give one to me?"

And, shamefaced, I had to admit that, "No, Tandy, I want to keep them all for me."

"That's greedy," she said huffily. "That's like, so, not nice. I thought you were my friend."

"Sorry," I whispered, suddenly restored to normality. I was crazy about Tandy. Of course I'd give her one of the purses I'd stolen from Prada. ALL of them, if she wanted. (But hopefully she wouldn't.)

"Hey," her smile was suddenly sweet. "This is crazy. It's all theoretical, anyway. No-one's gonna steal anything."

I was happy that she wasn't pissed with me and happy too because I'd just successfully done my sixth deadly sin — Greed. So that was how it operated, blinding you to friendship and humanity. All for the sake of some nicely-stitched leather. Very nicely-stitched leather, I thought, in great colours, with zips and locks and… I could feel myself getting sucked in again.

Of my seven deadly sins I only had Lust to go. And as if on cue a woman hurtled into the store and flung herself on a purple ostrich skin evening purse.

"Ohmigod," she shrieked. "I totally LUST after this. One of these is better than sex!"

Naturally enough this gave me pause for thought. In my great yearning for a purse had I also done Lust?

It would be very useful if I had, of course, because I could spend my last day on earth lying by the pool. Maybe I'd even get to talk to that pale and interesting man who'd been there two days ago. But I'd always expected that I'd feel Lust about a man, not about a purse. I wasn't ready to give up on that yet.

*

All week men had been coming on to Tandy. Every time we'd gone out she'd spent her time wearily dismissing bottles of champagne and phone numbers and cheap pick-up lines. So why was she going on a date with this James guy? What was so special about him?

"I'm going to give it my best shot," she said. "It's stupid to keep hoping and …" She stopped abruptly and put another layer of shine on her cheekbones.

By the time she was ready she was so dazzlingly gorgeous she would take the sight out of your eyes.

Dark and moody at the best of times, Nick had gone into overdrive. He slouched on the couch like a human black hole.

"How do I look?" Tandy danced into the room and pirouetted in her date finery.

"You're blocking my view of the TV." Nick rubbernecked as he tried to see around her.

"Doesn't she look GREAT!" I said heartily.

Nick pressed the remote and raised the sound.

"Nick?" Tandy asked, above the raucous canned laughter.

"What can I say, Tandy?" His voice was flat. "You look beautiful. You always look beautiful."

This seemed to confuse her and some of her dancing, lit-up quality dimmed.

"You'd be even more beautiful if you ate occasionally," he added. She marched from the room and slammed the door. Yikes!

*

After she'd left Nick and I watched a movie and ate popcorn in companionable silence. Well, companionableish. Nick was so broodingly self-contained, I couldn't help sneaking glances at him. Suddenly he turned and caught me looking. After a silence he spoke, "How come you're not on a date tonight, Grace?"

"No-one asked me. Tandy's so beautiful," I shrugged. "It's hard not to disappear beside her."

Alright, so I was milking it.

"Aw, but you're so cute," he said softly, swinging his legs off the table and moving suddenly closer along the couch. "You've got these curls," He wound a hand into my bouncy hair, "And beautiful skin," with his other hand he touched my face, "And a perfect mouth…" With his thumb he pulled gently at my lower lip and moved his face so that it was level with mine.

He was going to kiss me. And I wanted him to. My heart was knocking echoes into my ears, and I was wound tight with longing. I leaned into the heat of him, feeling the grip of his hand on the back of my head and then, and then… Something changed and it was all trickling away.

"I'm sorry," he said, pulling back with a heavy sigh. His eyes were weary but the touch of his hand on my face was kind. "I'm so sorry, Grace. It's not you."

"Whatever." But my voice was helium high and didn't convince.

I burned with what I could only presume was humiliation. What made things worse was that I'd been enjoying the movie and now I had no choice but to slink away to my room.

I'll level with you. Of all the seven sins, Lust was the one I'd been most looking forward to. And see what had happened — over before it had begun.

The phone rang and I heard Nick saying to some heartbroken girl, "I'm sorry, baby." The line he'd been saying all week since I arrived: he was like a broken record. And some kind of understanding began to stir in me, something to do with Tandy saying that things would never work with her and Nick because there were all these women around him…. But before my realization was fully formed the doorbell rang and I lost my train of thought. I've always had a very short attention span.

I strained to hear who it was. Please don't let it be a girl, I begged. But thank God, it was only crazy, alcoholic Karl. Who, if Nick was to be believed, was no longer so crazy or so alcoholic. They left to shoot some pool.

CHAPTER SEVEN

My last day on earth. That sounds really dramatic, right?

I'd successfully completed my mission, done all seven of my deadly sins in six days and I was shipping back to Up There this evening, a more confident, experienced, humane angel. Yet I was left with the feeling that there was still something very important to do. THE most important thing, actually.

It was another beautiful morning. Granola was scampering around chasing dust motes but as soon as I came into the room he bolted to his basket and crouched in it, trembling. Looks like winning the dog over isn't going to be one of my success stories.

Tandy was swinging around the apartment taunting Nick.

"I had the best time last night. James is really cute and smart and funny." She was watching Nick very carefully as she said all this, but he was utterly engrossed in the sport's pages.

"He is the funniest guy," Tandy said dreamily. "Lemme tell you what he — "

With a sharp rustle of paper Nick sat up. "So, you gonna go out with him again?"

"What do you care?"

"You're right, I don't."

They stared each other down, looking like they hated each other.

Clearly, they were in love with each other. How had I not noticed until now? Well, last night, really.

I am a lousy, lousy angel, but at least I got it in time.

*

I needed to speak to Tandy, there wasn't much time before I left for home.

"Nick…" I began.

"That jerk!"

"Yeah. So let's see if I've got this straight. You slept with him — "

"I was loaded," she furiously defended herself.

"Then afterwards nothing happened and you were pissed because he always had a bunch of girls around him."

"Yeah." She sounded uncertain, like she wasn't really sure where this was going.

"BUT," I said dramatically, "Since I've been here I admit there are a lot of girls around but Nick keeps telling them to go away. Seems to me like he's clearing the decks."

"For what?"

"Dduuuuhhh! For you! Who do you think?" Well, it sure wasn't for me. Not if his half-hearted attempt to come onto me last night was anything to go by. Not that I'm sore. Angels don't really do sore. But if I wasn't an angel I think I might be very sore indeed. Anyhow….

"For me? You think?" Tandy couldn't keep the hope out of her voice, then she changed tack. "He thinks I'm anorexic."

"You are very thin," I said carefully. "And you don't seem to eat very often."

"I'm not anorexic," she yelled. "I'm — "

"Yeah, I know, you're an actress."

"No. I'm in love with him! I was a hundred and twenty pounds before I moved into this apartment."

"When exactly was that?" I was very keen to know how long it took her to lose thirty pounds.

"A year ago. Back then I used to play a lot of fat best friend parts."

"Like me!"

"Just like you. I preferred them to the hooker roles I get now."

We were getting diverted from our main purpose.

"So what about James?"

"Oh, he's an asshole," she said dismissively.

*

Next stop, Nick. We hadn't spoken since he'd acted like he was about to kiss me, then changed his mind with those immortal word, "It's not you."

Anyone who's ever been told, "It's not you," knows immediately that it IS them. But this particular case is the one exception. It wasn't me — it was Tandy! Nick loved Tandy, but erstwhile womanizer that he is, he probably felt it would be impolite not to try to jump me.

He was on the deck, staring moodily at nothing.

"Can we talk?"

Poor guy, he looked horrified. He thought I was going to be a girl and insist on doing a big analysis of how we nearly but not quite got it together the night before.

"Sure," he croaked, doing a wild retreat behind his eyes.

I sat down and smile reassuringly at him. Okay, so he hadn't found me attractive. But I'm bigger than all that. Well, I'm working on it.

"About Tandy," I began.

"Yeeaaahhh?"

"Since I've been here, you've been on the phone a lot saying goodbye to girls. It's ‘cause of Tandy, right?"

He stared me down. But I can stare longer and harder. Sometimes it's great being a supernatural being.

With a sigh he caved in. "Yeah, I wanted her to know that I wasn't going to be fooling around with anyone else. But what happens —she goes on a date with cute, smart, funny James."

"He's an asshole." I was thinking how lucky it was that I was here. They'd never sort this mess out if I wasn't.

"Says who he's an asshole?" "Tandy." "Yeah? For real?" A rare smile played on the corners of his mouth. He really was devastatingly attractive. If you like that sort of thing. "You two need to talk. But you're kind of hard to approach, you know?"

"Hey, I wasn't always like this," he bristled. "I was a really happy guy until she moved in. But I see her, so beautiful and I, you know, I get, like, depressed. I usta do a lot of comedy roles once, now I only seem to get offered psychos."

"Talk to her NOW," I commanded, very excited about the way things were going. But before we got any further, we had a guest.

"Karl!" "Have you met Grace?" Nick asked. It was the pale, ill-looking man who'd been lying by the pool. He was also — though I hadn't recognized him — the abusive drunk I'd accidentally called on when I'd first arrived in Los Angeles nearly a week before. He sure scrubbed up well.

"It's you!" He sort of gasped.

Yes, it was indeed me. No point denying it.

He ran his eyes over me with the same sort of awed wonder that Granola looks at me with.

"What did you do?" He asked. "You called into my apartment and when you left I didn't want to drink anymore. Then you stop me from burning in the sun."

"How'd she do that?" Nick demanded.

"I put sun lotion on him."

"Who are you?" Karl wondered. "Some sort of angel?"

Nick followed the exchange with interest. I know Nick had had his suspicions about me, so I was surprised when he said matter-of-factly, "She's Grace from Hicksville and you were long overdue to quit drinking, buddy. It's no biggie."

Karl was adamant. "I know you've had something to do with it. Thank you."

"You're welcome," I said shyly. I was feeling — I have to 'fess up here — pretty good about myself.

"I knew it!" Karl yelled. "I just KNEW it!"

"Karl buddy," Nick cut in. "Can I catch up with you later, I got something real important to do."

"Sure."

Tandy was in her room and after a push from me, Nick knocked and went in. I was going crazy wanting to know what was going on, but I wasn't able to see through the wall — I'm really going to have to work hard on my x-ray vision. Luckily, though, Nick hadn't fully shut the door behind him, so I could see Tandy.

First she looked a little suspicious, then like she was listening, then she smiled and said something. Another bit of listening, then suddenly Nick was also in the frame, taking her in his arms and holding her like he was never going to let her go.

The air swelled with the sublime sound of heavenly violins. Granola began to howl happily along with it.

THE END

Copyright © 2004 by Marian Keyes