‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  There never is a good time to find that your car has a flat and the one I discovered that morning could not have come at a worse time. I had set my alarm a quarter earlier to make sure to be in time for an important appointment with a client ‘“ now I was sure to be late. Add to that that my wife was at odds with me and the strange disappearance of the angel, it was all piling up.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  I recalled Shakespeare _ ‘œWhen trouble comes it comes in armies…’ Obviously a man who knew life! But let me start at the beginning.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  It was about a month ago that, as far as I was concerned,’  without rhyme or reason, Beatrice, my wife, began complaining about my behaviour, the shirt I wore, my tie, even my frequent dour expression.’  It seemed she was looking for any opportunity to bicker and bite. She was depressed and wouldn’™t speak about it. I was under pressure and had had to work late recently to keep up with things.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  She must have complained to her mother, Linda with whom, unlike the general rule pertaining to sons-in law, I have not only a pleasant relationship but whom I actually admire. My mother-in law is a bright, active women who often surprises me with her good sense. She’™s often most helpful, never obtrusive or interfering with our lives.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œBee,’ I heard her once answer my wife’™s complaints, ‘œdon’™t you think you’™re being a bit hard on Ken?’
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œKen’™s changing, Ma.’  You don’™t live with him. He’™s even learned to snore!’
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  This ‘œout of the blue’ new complaint was something perhaps I could deal with. I consulted a friend about snoring who spoke to me at length once on the same problem he was having.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œDo you sleep on your back?’, he asked.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œWhat’™s wrong with that?’’  I answered but I also took the hint and sleeping on my side did the trick. Then an another, inexplicable and shocking event took place to add to Beatrices’™ nerves.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  It happened last Monday, the evening after a quiet weekend that both Bee and I noticed simultaneously that the white angel was missing. Its disappearance from our glass-panelled display cabinet in our living room was eerie to say the least . The Angel, a delicate statuette, a tenth wedding anniversary gift from Linda almost a year ago, had happily taken up residence with us.’  It was not only beautiful but precious to us since it was also a fourth generation heirloom. Linda had received from her mother whose father had acquired it at some antique sale in Spain.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  We were both abashed at this mystical disappearance for nothing else in the room had been disturbed. No sign of a robbery. Even the door of the cabinet had been carefully closed after it had been removed and nothing else touched.’  We looked at each other in disbelief.’  It was then that my wife comes out with an explanation that I feel only a woman’™s mind can conjure up – an obvious solution: ‘œYou’™ve begun sleep-waking, Ken’ she says. To her this was an only explanation making perfect sense. She looked at me, a strange almost frightened look coming to her eyes: ‘œIt was you, Ken. You’™ve stopped snoring and now have begun sleep-walking!’’  She said this, her eyes widening a little in fear as if she had suddenly discovered a certain new fundamental truth.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œYou’™re mad to think that ,Bee.’  What in earth is the one to do with the other?’
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œWell it certainly wasn’™t me,’ she said defiantly. Your astonishment looks genuine enough so the only explanation is that you did it in your sleep! Did you by any chance dream about putting the angel somewhere for safe-keeping? Perhaps you may even remember were you put it! Buried it in the garden even!’
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  As far as Bee was concerned the mystery had been solved ‘“ now all we had to do was to find it. ‘œYes, you liked it very much. Another thing is that you have been so absent-minded lately.’
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œBut not that absent minded, Bee and anyway, if I had been sleep- walking surely there would be some signs ‘“ dirty feet for instance.’  Okay, the angel’™s disappearance is a mystery I agree but as far as I am concerned there’™s bound to be some other logical explanation.’ In my own mind, however, I began to have doubts. My thoughts were reeling and I was at a complete loss for any ideas.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œI’™ll have to tell Ma. She’™s bound to be terribly upset.’
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œNo, don’™t tell her yet. Wait a few days. Maybe something will turn up.’ My wife’™s face was contorted and I could see that she was undergoing some terrible strain.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  We of course looked everywhere nevertheless ‘œjust in the event that here was a case of temporary amnesia on my part,’ Bee said but of course the search turned up nothing.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œBee, why don’™t you go for a few sessions with a comforter. I’™m sure the sessions will relax you. Perhaps you may be able to put a name to something that’™s disturbing you.’  You have been awfully tense lately and taking it out on me.’
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  The look she gave me at this last would have instantly frozen a hot herring. I said nothing more but this did little to relieve my perplexity at the whole affair and Bea’™s behaviour.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  My wife works half days as a copy writer at a local paper but that day when I came home she was not in. I did find a scribbled note on the kitchen table: ‘œBe back by eight. Help yourself.’ Our two young boys were playing noisily on the back lawn.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  I went over to the glass cabinet to see if the angel had returned as mysteriously as it had disappeared. Of course it had not. I simply stood and stared wondering and with a curiosity that I could not resolve. In my imagination I visualised it as it had stood just two days before: about thirty centimetres high in very white ivory, it was beautifully proportioned and in an unusual stance. Its arms reached forward as if blessing the onlooker. Eyes closed, its lips were parted in the faintest and, as I always felt, cheeky and endearing smile. We all loved it and I was sad at its strange disappearance to say the least. I resolved to put a lock on the cabinet door ‘“ not, I thought, that this would deter any would-be thief – a wayward kid, perhaps. The children also were sad so I was sure neither had anything to do with it.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  I felt that Linda would be almost heart-broken. Almost, I say advisedly for she was a practical woman and I imagined her remarking: ‘œDon’™t be too upset about it, after all, it’™s just a statue’.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  Coming to my senses suddenly and without an idea where to begin or hope of success, I began to search again in every nook and cranny.’  I conscripted our five and seven year olds who delightedly began turning our cupboards inside out screaming in glee as they did so. Linda turned up unexpectedly and, remonstrating the kids, began putting my suits and shirts back in place. I gladly accepted her help.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œWhy the pandemonium?, she asked.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  I decided she would have to know so I related what had happened ending with, ‘œOf course we are terribly upset and I can just imagine how sad a loss this is for you. It’™s all so mysterious,’ I concluded.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  Linda looked long at the glass panel behind which the angel had stood. She was thoughtful for a full minute finally stating simply, ‘œIt’™s only a statue. I hope that the possessor will enjoy it and look after it.’
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  I was relieved that she took it the way she did. ‘œWhere’™s Bee?’.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œShe’™ll be back at eight according to a note she left,’ I answered. In the meantime we’™ve been turning the place upside down looking for an angel that refuses to be found.’ With this I sent the kids into the garden with the instruction not even to neglect the garbage bin. Of course nothing came to light.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  Bee came home sobbing. ‘œNow what’™s the matter? You been to a comforter? Is this the outcome?’
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  Strangely she sought my arms and I, as surprised as I was happy at the change in her, clasped her in a warm embrace.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œI’™m sorry, Ken. No I didn’™t go to a psychologist. I was with your boss. He told me you had been working late quite frequently while I have been living in doubt feeling that your delays were something else. I’™m sorry, Ken and I suppose I’™m pleased also.’
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œSo that was it, and you couldn’™t bring yourself to tell me? Well I suppose it is a delicate matter.’  Glad to be on the level again.’  Maybe the angel’™s disappearance has something to do with it.’  It did us a good turn and probably now gone to do one for somebody else?’
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œDon’™t know, Ken but for me, Angel’™s disappearance brought things to a head. I began to blame myself for doubts I had about our relationship. I phoned your boss for an appointment. Now you know.’’ 
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œSo the angel helped, after all,’ I answered looking into Bee’™s tear-stained face.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  The next morning I discovered the flat tyre I told you about at the start. Well my first thought was that maybe I wasn’™t over the bumpy patch in my life. I went around to the boot and to the spare wheel housing fully expecting that with the kind of luck I was having lately I’™d now find that the spare would be flat also. ‘œTypical, I thought to myself, ‘œwhy hadn’™t I checked the spare at the last service! Something had told me to.’
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  As it was it didn’™t turn out that way at all. Lifting the cover over the spare wheel, there, wrapped carefully in a soft piece of green flannel was a unknown package. I knew instinctively what it was although flabbergasted as to how it got there – in my sleep? Never! Maybe . . . Linda? If Linda, why for God’™s sake? To help us – Bee?’  Linda had spent the evening before the loss with us and I do remember leaving my car keys on the dining table. I knew Linda to be resourceful ‘“ but as much as that?’  It would not have been easy to accomplish to say the least.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  Forgetting all about the appointment and not even opening the wrapped article I placed it in Bee’™s hands saying: ‘œI found it in the boot – on the spare wheel!’’ 
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œThere, I told you so, Ken. It was you all the time ‘“ in your sleep and in a place that even you would never look.’
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  I decided not to argue ‘“ not even tell her of the flat tyre.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  I moved’  quickly to the phone to tell Linda the good news. Later that day, when the puncture man found that there was no’  reason he could find for the flat, I saw in my mind’™s eye the smile on Linda’™s face as’  I’  told her of the ‘œfind’ – knew, too, that I was no sleep-walker either.