I knew what God was, for we often had chats and I learned a lot. Then they told me God was an old, bearded man, sitting on a cloud, checking credentials. I had got it all wrong.
I knew that I had been born with a particular purpose in this lifetime. Then they told me it was my duty to get a respectable, well-paying job and to obey the rules. I had got it wrong again.
I knew that trees, the sea, mountains and all other natural beings were intelligent as I had often spoken to them and found them to be unerringly correct. Then, at school, I was told that humans were the only intelligent life force and that all other things were either dumb or without any feelings or thoughts at all. I had got it wrong yet again.
Now that I'm really old - nearly as old as the trees, the sea, the mountains - I am regaining my intelligence and having some amazing chats with God ... and, no, it's not my Alzheimer's kicking in*! And how do I know it's God? Because, as Jesus tells us, there is the abiding sense of peace as I listen to the Voice for God. Whenever any decision needs to be made, I listen or feel for that abiding sense of peace … and it's always right.
*Somerset Maugham said, "They told me that when I got old, I would lose my mind. What they didn't tell me was that I wouldn't miss it much."
Now, how much peace is Arthur feeling? His story is continued from the previous blog ...
"They're investigating us?"
"Well, sort of. Their investigation hasn't started but we've been warned, from above, that the Atkinson case could be looked into," said Mary, returning to her harried look. "So, we've got to be very careful to have it completed before they turn up - we want to show how efficient we are to stop the investigation spreading anywhere else. We don't want any questions unanswered. You understand?"
"Yes, I think I do," said Arthur, feeling a heaviness settle around him. This project was supposed to be exciting but there now seemed to be a serious edge to it. Perhaps Joan was right after all …
"So, you see that it's not possible to have anything leave the office and we need it done as quickly as possible."
"Another alternative, Mary, is for me to take all the files home ..." said Arthur, feeling stuck and over his head in this stupid scenario while his brain started firing as never before.
"No, Arthur! I just said you can't!" said Mary leaping up. Arthur had never seen her look so florid or nervous.
"Mary, please let me finish. I have an idea," said Arthur, quietly. Mary sat, shaking her head. "If I have them at home till it's all settled, then there's no possibility of the FSA seeing anything half complete. You can say the matter is in the hands of your expert consultant and can delay giving them anything till I've answered all your questions. If the worst comes to the worst, you can delay till then, blame me and they can't see the job till it's all plastered, wallpapered and looking ready for sale, so to speak."
Mary sat and smiled at this undeniable logic. "Arthur Bayly," she said, eventually, "you're a bit of a dark horse, aren't you!"
"I have my moments."
"Right, perfect solution," said Mary, standing again and coming round to Arthur's side of the desk, with her hand out. "If I was one of those New Agers, I'd give you a hug, but I'm not!" She shook his hand strongly and did what she was good at - giving orders: "I'll get my PA to photocopy all the files, you get two computer sticks, copy all you have in your computer onto them. You keep one stick and the original files. I'll lock all the copies away from anyone's view, in case the worst happens. I'll organise you a laptop, be on your way with the original files, a laptop and computer stick and you can download a copy when you get home. OK?"
"Uh, yes, fine, thanks Mary."
"And we'll keep in phone and email contact each day. I'll need to know what's happening all the time," said Mary, smiling. "Upstairs will want to know that good progress is being made. And don't forget to ask for any resources you need - money is no object, as they say!"
______________
Arthur felt a little like James Bond with a rising sense of excitement - even danger - he'd never felt before. Every moment he feared an earnest band of pin-striped inspectors confronting him perverting - well, temporarily skirting - the course of justice and being hauled off for incarceration in the Tower of London … his mind went wild with the awful consequences it created, one upon the other. What he was very sure of was that James Bond would not trip up on shadows on the carpet, drop his computer stick behind his drawer and spend five sweaty minutes extracting said drawer and said computer stick, dropping a bundle of files in the corridor and spend a few more precious minutes gathering them up. No, James Bond would be in his office for four and a half minutes and out the door before anyone noticed.
"So, Mr Bond, how are we going? Mission completed?" asked Mary as she strode back with the original files he'd previously dropped.
All Arthur could offer in reply was a sort of grunty, giggly refrain as he stood staring at his computer screen, wondering whether to scream or cry.
"Is everything alright, Arthur?" asked Mary, her smile turning to concern.
"I'm afraid this Mr Bond just isn't up to it today, Mary … ah, Miss Moneypenny," said Arthur, staring intently at the screen. "I turned it on and it just downloaded an upgrade of some sort and it's shut down and restarting - too dashed clever for itself, I'd say. I'm sure this never happens to our Mr Bond … I say, how did you know I was thinking of him when you came in?"
"I didn't, it just came out," said Mary. "So you were thinking how James Bond would be doing this?"
"Well, yes I was, actually," said Arthur. "Dashed interesting, really." He rushed to his chair, suddenly, downloaded his Atkinson file onto the two sticks, gave one to Mary, took the files from her and packed it all in the bag she gave him.
"Gosh, what's the rush?" asked Mary, surprised at his speed. "They won't be here today, Arthur."
"I must be nervous. I'm sorry," he said, sheepishly. "I really should be going, anyway, to help Joan with the funeral arrangements." His eyes wouldn't stop darting to the door and the reception area - you never know with these investigation types, he thought.
"OK, well, please keep me informed each day - I know you'll have it completed in no time," said Mary as she shook his hand and disappeared up the corridor to the lift.
Arthur walked out with more speed than grace and bumped into two large men in black suits at the reception area. He immediately sensed who these two strangers were and he felt a most uncomfortable prickly heat in his face and it seemed to be spreading over his head. He supposed that he must be sweating, something he was not prone to do. These tense moments looked all very exciting on television and in the James Bond movies and he'd always wondered what it was like in real life. Now he knew and he didn't like it. His mind became strangely focussed, rather strongly, on several things at once.
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