Free Pool by Justin D'Ath

deal,’ said the Furniture King. ‘And as far as it being fair on Audrey, son – in the few days the two of you have been seeing each other, her mother and I have never seen her so happy.’

20
    Someone had clipped out the article and pinned it to the noticeboard in the staffroom.
    ‘How does it feel to be a hero, Mrs Lonsdale?’ Wolfgang asked when she came in at lunchtime to make herself a pot of herbal tea.
    She laughed. ‘They’re a bit free and easy with their accolades down at the Addy. It used to be you had to do something brave before you were called a hero.’
    ‘You saved his life.’
    ‘Brought him back from the other side ,’ Mrs Lonsdale said, giving the final two words a theatrical emphasis. ‘I hope he doesn’t sue us.’
    Wolfgang turned away from the noticeboard. ‘We’re covered, aren’t we?’
    ‘Against loss of life, yes.’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘But not against loss of eternal life.’
    Mrs Lonsdale saw Wolfgang’s uncomprehending look. ‘Have you read the whole article? Apparently our Mr Cooper had a “near-death experience”. Went to heaven and came back again – so he claims. I’m hoping he doesn’t hold us accountable.’
    ‘For what?’ Wolfgang asked, feeling foolish.
    ‘For bringing him back from heaven. How could you compensate someone for that?’
    While Mrs Lonsdale attended to her tea making, Wolfgang returned to the clipping. According to the article, Mr Cooper had lost consciousness and found himself beside a pond surrounded by fruit trees and flowers and swirling white butterflies. ‘Paradise’, he’d described it. But he was only there for a few moments before he felt himself pulled backwards into the pond. Underwater once more, he travelled down ‘a long dark tunnel with a bright light at the end’. When he emerged into the light, Mr Cooper awoke in an ambulance being rushed to hospital.
    Wolfgang read the account a second time. He’d seen a program on TV about near-death experiences. A frowning man with huge eyebrows and a European accent, some kind of shrink, had explained how the human brain hallucinated in the face of death. It was a coping mechanism, the expert said. Images of gardens, angels and the smiling faces of deceased loved ones were common. They calmed the dying person and made the whole experience peaceful, even euphoric.
    ‘Swirling white butterflies,’ Wolfgang noted, reading Mr Cooper’s version of paradise for a third time. There would be butterflies in his paradise, too.

21
    When Wolfgang opened his email account that evening, there was a message from Dr Karalis.
    Greetings Wolfgang,
    Apologies for my tardy response. This place was closed down over the festive season.
    Always good to hear from you. Unfortunately your attachment won’t open. If you like resend in another format.
    Seasons greetings etc
    Jonathan Karalis

    Wolfgang re-read the message slowly, a sense of disappointment dampening his accelerated heartbeat. It was hardly the response he had been anticipating for the past fortnight. Okay, so the attachment wouldn’t open. But for Dr Karalis to suggest he resend it if he liked suggested he wasn’t interested. Didn’t he take Wolfgang seriously?
    ‘I’m not just some amateur!’ Wolfgang muttered to his computer screen.
    He lifted the lid off the cigar box, exposing the battered black wing lying on its bed of cotton wool.
    It didn’t look like much, but to a lepidopterist it was possibly the discovery of a lifetime.
    Doctor Karalis will be sucking up to me! Wolfgang thought, as he carried the box over to his computer scanner.

22
    Audrey’s father must really love her, Wolfgang thought. Moving her birthday party from Saturday to Friday night, just so her ‘boyfriend’ could be there. And upping the payment from four hundred dollars a week to four hundred and fifty. Ignoring the protests of his guilty conscience, Wolfgang had agreed to another week.
    ‘But I’m not giving up my job at the pool,’ he’d