Harvey, The Devil

1

Shamanda had driven around the city block five times before she found a parking spot. It was right beside the building she needed to get to as well. Bonus! She'd just pulled up to the car in front ready to reverse park when a lorry appeared out of nowhere and stopped right behind her. Shamanda was immediately furious. She already had her reversing lights on. What sort of an idiot was he, driving up behind her like that?

She beeped her horn and waved the guy to go around but he beeped back angrily for nearly ten seconds.

Her boss Cadwick had already rang her five times. She was sure he would ring again at any moment to tell her she was fired. She wouldn't mind but the reports that she'd been to collect were for a meeting that wasn't scheduled for another two days. She'd tried to explain that to Cadwick, but he wasn't a person you could argue with. "What happened with the report from March? Full of typos. We had to get the whole lot reprinted? If I thought I could trust you to review them properly we wouldn't have to go through this rigmarole!" And what were the typos Cadwick referred to? Shamanda had used 'ok' instead of 'okay' and '25' instead of 'twenty-five'. And for that, the whole set of three-hundred reports had to be reprinted. She was sure he'd done it on purpose as some sort of power trip.

So Shamanda couldn't afford to miss the precious parking spot. She felt prickly heat rising around her neck and her heart beating a tattoo of fury. She slammed the gear stick into park and leapt out of the car.

As she marched up to the lorry she began to see the driver. She thought at first that he was wearing a red shirt and got the impression that he must be a big guy. A couple of more steps revealed him to her.

He was The Devil.

He was Beelzebub incarnate. 7 foot tall, glowing red eyes, goatee beard, the whole lot. He had post-box red skin, horns for God's sake. He was The Devil and Shamanda was confronting him over a parking spot.

Shamanda felt moments of time scurry by her seeking refuge in the past, but she just stood there, her jaw working slowly but no sound coming out. The Devil lowered his window.

"Is there a problem luv?" he said and Shamanda nearly fell over. It was his voice. It should have been a guttural roar. I should have resonated with fury. Instead he sounded like a Cockney from a 60's movie.

"Wha's a matter luv, cat got your tongue?"

Shamanda.exe had temporarily crashed. But as the moments drew on, she became aware of the awkwardness of the situation, so she spoke.

"Do you want to go for a drink sometime?"

Shamanda really didn't know she was going to say that, and now, having uttered the words she was even more perplexed at her actions. Surely, she would wake up at any moment to find this had all been a surreal dream.

"Oh! Fancy a bit of the old Devil, does you love?" said the Devil, and he gave her a lascivious wink.

Shamanda thought it was possibly the cheesiest thing she'd ever seen. At the same time, she found herself blushing like a silly schoolgirl.

This realisation seemed to make her come to her senses. She was a tough, no-nonsense business woman. This was not her modus operandi vis-à-vis meeting men.

"We'll meet in the bar of the Grosvenor Hotel, Friday at eight," she said, trying desperately to impart an air of authority into her words. The effect was lessened somewhat when she realised she was unconsciously twirling a strand of hair around her fingers.

The Devil leaned out of the window a little to get a better look at her. He really is the actual, Devil, thought Shamanda, the actual prince of darkness, Satan even.

The Devil gave Shamanda a rather brazen scan up and down. It should have offended her but she'd actually just done the same to him. So, she found herself standing there, smiling up at him. 

The Devil was smiling slightly too. But then he said, "Nah," and glanced away indifferently.

"Where then?" Shamanda said, a little desperately.

The Devil did a double-take, frowned at Shamanda then cracked up laughing.

"Oh yeah," he said eventually, ''Cos it was the place you picked, I didn't like. That's why I said 'nah!'" He burst out laughing again and Shamanda, despite herself, was laughing with him. He had a very jolly laugh, not at all what she would have imagined from the Antichrist.

"You're a right un, ain't cha? Grosvenor Hotel? I don't fink so darling. Tell ya what, seeing as you made me laugh, 'ows abaht coming out with me for a spot of fishing tomorrow?"

The Devil told her the name of a jetty.

"You do like fishing don't you, love?"

Shamanda couldn't think of anything more deplorable.

"Oh yeah, I love it."