The lamp fell off the shelf and shattered. It had only cost £2 from the market in Maidstone, so Brian was more upset that it woke him up ten minutes before his alarm was due to go off. He’d got used to the noise. Living this close to New Cross Station made his bedsit cheap but the ten-minute tremors caused the death of his lamp and his premature consciousness. When he moved to London from his sleepy Lancashire village, it was like an adventure. He’d left Bacup at 18 and hoped to never return. He wasn’t leaving anything behind. Poverty without the prospects of improvement was the town motto. The people he’d gone to school with had gone two ways, left the village or left the country. He finished his degree in film studies and sleepwalked in to the first job he was offered. It didn’t matter. It was just the first rung on a ladder to the top. That was two years ago. He was still on the first step.
Brian picked up the pieces of the lamp. It was an ugly thing he’d never liked. “A fitting metaphor for life,” he’d said. He boiled the kettle to make a cup of tea and dived in the shower. Twenty minutes later, he stood on the platform at New Cross waiting for his train. He squeezed on board and made his way to work with a hipster’s rucksack hitting him in the back and a woman’s ipad resting on his shoulder. At Cannon Street station, Brian spent money he didn’t have on a £6 espresso and walked along the riverbank. Watching the sunrise was when his day peaked. It was downhill after that.
Global FastTrack had offices all around the world, but, as far as Brian could tell, no discernible purpose other than making someone mountains of money. His boss, a monumental tool called Tina, thought more of the yucca in the corner of her office than she thought of Brian.
“Bri,” she screeched when he got to work. She sounded like a tawny owl in a blender. “If you got here in 5 minutes time, you’d be late.”
“But I’m not late, am I, Tina,” Brain sighed.
“That’s not the point. You’re almost late and that’s as good as late as far as I’m concerned. Get to your desk! That paperwork needs a trained chimp to enter it into the system.”
Brian sighed again. He could claim he was being bullied, but Tina was a cow to everyone. Her moaning was ineffectual hot air, she did it every day and he hadn’t been fired yet. On his desk was the pile. It was his job to open a file, enter the date on the form, the unique 24 figure case number and a post code into a spread sheet. That was it. Repeat until sick. He started at 9am, finished at 5pm, ate at his desk and hated every second. At lunch, he scrolled through other peoples’ perfect lives on Instagram.
After another tedious day, it was finally quarter to five. He stacked the completed files neatly, arranged the still to do pile for tomorrow, and made sure it took him the full fifteen minutes remaining. Tina sometimes lurked in the corridor by the exit. She loved to roast the first to leave each day. Brian waited until after Derek left the office to make his escape. He’d been duped. Derek hid in the canteen. When Brian reached the stairs, she pounced.
“Last in, first out! Won’t look good on your next review. Hm? It’ll be the title of your reference, which you’ll need when I fire your lazy, no good…” she ranted and Brian let it wash over him. She’d be done soon and he could carry on home. By the time he got out, he’d missed his train. He turned his collar up against the snow and walked home. It was long walk, but that never bothered him. He used to love to roam the hills back home. Halfway there, an Uber sped through a puddle, drenching him in icy slush.
“PERRRfect…” he shouted after him, but he was long gone. “Champion,” he muttered, wiping water and ice from his clothes. He squelched the remaining trudge home. When he eventually reached the curb outside his bedsit, he pulled his keys from his pocket and scattered a handful of coins across the ground. A pound coin rolled towards the drain on the edge of the road. Brian scrambled for it but numb finger wouldn’t let him pick it up. That’s when he slipped in the ice and landed flat on his back. He turned his head just in time to see the pound plop into the drain. Brian let his head fall back on the wet floor. As the grey ice melted into his hair, he made a wish. He wished for a better life. He laid there until someone stepped over him and told him to “Get a job.” Brian didn’t realise rock bottom would feel so cold and soggy. Drains weren’t wishing wells. He would have to do something himself.
“I’m quitting. That’s it. Tomorrow is a new day. I’m done,” Brian said to no-one in particular.
The next morning, Brian didn’t wake up when the train went by. He didn’t wake up until late in the morning when his phone rang. He looked at the screen. ‘Tina calling’. He didn’t answer. He felt a twinge of guilt that he might be letting them down, but it quickly passed. He sat up and almost went out of his skin. There was a man in the room with him.
“’Ello, Brian,” said a vaguely familiar voice. Brian racked his brains, where had he heard that voice before. “Are you gonna get up and make me a cup of tea or am I gonna have to do it myself?”
Brian sat up and rubbed his eyes. Surprise pushed its way through the sleepy fog and widened his eyes. “Are you Idris Elba?” he asked.
“Of course, I ain’t, you muppet!” he said, while rolling a pound coin over his knuckles. “Why would Idris Elba come and see you?”
“You look just like him,” he said.
“I know,” the man, who looked like Idris Elba, looked pointedly at the kettle, “It’s not gonna boil itself, you know.”
“Why are you in my flat? Are you here to rob me? ‘Cause I don’t have owt! There’s nowt valuable in this flat,” Brian squeeked.
“Rob you? Someone comes to change your life and you assume I’m a tealeaf. If I wanted to rob you, I would have done it when you left your phone on your desk when you went to the toilet last Tuesday. I would have done it when you were so paralytic drunk a couple of weeks ago after doing shots with Derek and Lisa down the boozer that you didn’t even know your own name. I could have robbed you blind that night and you would have smiled at me like a doughnut.”
Brian sat up in bed. He wanted to demand answers. Unfortunately, all he managed was, “Eh?”
“You ain’t very eloquent, are you?” said the man who wasn’t Idris Elba, still fiddling with the coin. “Look fella, I ain’t here to upset you. I’m here to help. Put some trousers on and let’s go for a walk.”
Brian grabbed some clothes from the back of the chair, wrapped a scarf around his neck and headed for the door. For the first time in forever, Brian left the house without drinking a cup of tea. He really wanted one too.
He shut the door and joined Not-Idris-Elba on the pavement. He was looking into the drain where Brian had lost his pound. Not-Idris flipped a pound coin in the air and popped it into his pocket. He took a sip from a paper cup of steaming tea.
“Where did you get that?” Brian asked sulkily.
“Brian, I’m here to help you out, yeah. You so far have accused me of being a tea leaf, now you’re after my Rosielee. How’s about you hear me out and then I’ll be on my way.”
“OK,” Brian managed.
“Right, I’m not Idris Elba but you can call me Idris if it makes life easier for you. I’m ‘ere to get your life back on the rails.”
“That’s funny, I was just thinking about this last night. You see, I thought it was unfair that…”
“Shut it,” snapped Idris, “I know what your problem is, how many times have I told ya, that’s why I’m here. Now shut your north-and-south and let me talk.”
Brian shut his mouth.
“Good, where was I? I’m your ever so handsome fairy godmother,” said Idris.
“What?” Brian said, but he soon shut up when Idris snapped his fingers and the world froze. The black cab driving by halted. The pigeons in flight stuck as if they’d been paused.
“If you keep interrupting me this’ll take forever, and I don’t ‘ave forever. Well, I do but my patience doesn’t. As I was sayin’, I’m your designated fairy godmother. I work for Dreams and Wishes Inc. We have been serving humanity since you guys could wish. We did that Scrooge fella, Cinderella, and my mate Clarence went to Bedford Falls in America. After that Bedford Falls job, everyone wanted a piece of the fairy action. We saw an opportunity to go and get all corporate. I’m on a permanent retainer for Global FastTrack. I’m gonna show ya the errors of your ways.” He smiled in a way that unnerved Brian.
“What do you mean?” asked Brian as Idris hit him square in the face.
“OW!” shouted Brian, his hands held his nose and his eye watered. When he blinked to clear his vision, he and Idris were stood in the corner of a hospital ward. There was one patient in the bed to the right. He was on a ventilator and surrounded by several blinking and beeping machines. The other three beds were empty, with crisp sheets and hospital corners. “Why did… did you… what?”
“Do you know who these people are?” Idris asked.
“Why did you hit me?” demanded Brian. Idris rolled his eyes.
“Every time I… Right, I am you Fairy Godmother, right?” Idris talked slowly like he was talking to an especially dim and untrained tortoise.
“Right.”
“We are here,” he gestured around him with his arm, “to show you the impact you have on people’s lives. This is what those numbers you stick in a spreadsheet do.”
“What, put people in hospital?” Brian asked. Idris shook his head.
“Just watch what happens so I can get back to my costume drama marathon with Clarence.”
The nurse guided two other people to a bed side. They didn’t look over and Brian suspected they couldn’t see them. The two people must have been the patient’s wife and child. She was in her late thirties and looked good for her age. The little girl could not have been more than six. They both wore red dresses. Their red rimmed eyes matched. The nurse laid a hand on the woman’s shoulder and turned to face the family.
“I have news,” she started, “The funding has been approved by Global FastTrack. Dr. Polotski can start treatment this afternoon, if you agree.”
“Yes,” sobbed the mother. Her knees sagged and she fought to keep herself upright. She had been waiting for this news for a long time. Her little girl looked up into her large, tear-filled eyes, her own starting to well up in response.
“Does this mean daddy’s going to be OK?” she asked with a child’s lisp. Her mother nodded and stroked her hair. She didn’t trust her own voice to reply properly. Idris thumped Brian in the nose again.
“Ahhh,” shouted Brian, and when he opened his eyes he was sat in the café down the road in New Cross. They both had a hot cup of tea in from of them. Idris was pouring sugar into his.
“Phew, that takes it out of me. I’m cream crackered now,” he said as he tried to dissolve fifteen sugars.
“Why do you keep hitting me?” Brian asked, rubbing his red, slightly swollen nose.
“I need you to have your eyes closed for the magic to work. It’s one of the rules,” he said.
“So why don’t you just ask?”
“It’s less fun, innit,” he smiled for the second time that day and Brian shuddered. “Anyway, all that is beside the point. You filled in the form, his funding got approved. Ergo, you and your job matter. If you don’t turn up for work, people don’t get saved. Have I changed your mind, or do you want another example?” he said, raising his fist. He cracked his knuckles and stood up for a better angle on Brian’s nose.
“No! No! I’m convinced. I’ll be at work on Monday,” Brian said in a rush.
“Pukka,” said Idris, picking up Brian’s tea and necking it in one go. “In a minute, Tina’s going to call you. Answer it. Say you’ve a cold, and you’ll be back on Monday. Probably won’t hurt if you apologise too.” Idris snapped his hand forward and flicked Brian’s sore nose. When Brian opened his eyes again, he was gone. So were both the teas. As the waiter dropped the bill on the table, Brian’s phone rang. It was Tina.
“Where, in-the-name-of-all-that-is-good, have you been? You’re lucky I don’t fire you right now. If you don’t have a good excuse for not being here, I…” Tina ranted.
“Tina, shut up and listen,” said Brian, he didn’t shout but his tone left no room for argument, “you are going to go to my desk and make sure every form is entered into the system. Then, you are going to HR and tell them that you have bullied me out of my job and I will sue you and the company if I don’t get a large payment. They will agree and if they don’t tell them to call Idris at D and W Inc. He’ll straighten them out. Finally, the last thing you will do for me is stick this job up your…” Brian was cut off by the waiter asking for his money. He dropped a fiver on the table and walked out. He strutted up Queen’s Road to his bedsit feeling happier than he had in years. Idris had convinced him of one thing, he wanted his life to matter. He would be on the next train back up North. There was plenty of people he could help up there. Maybe he’d build a youth club to keep the kids off the street. He’d do something important. Whatever he did, he’d matter.
Brian absently rubbed his nose and thought, “Cheers, Not-Idris-Elba.”