Page 11 of Rock Hard Alien

Five

Georgie

The office of the Hot Tatties Dating Agency was in a large, imposing Victorian building right in the centre of Glasgow. The grey stone was wet with rain, but an oversized painting of a cupid wearing a tartan kilt next to the door brought some colour to it all. I'd known Cleo worked for a dating agency, but I hadn't realised it was quite so stereotypical Scottish.

Cleo had driven us straight here. On the way, I'd texted Keiran with a vague message that told him I was safe and that he should go home and have a day off. He'd answered with a whole lot of questions that I was ignoring, for now. I had no idea what he must think had happened to me. I'd disappeared from the top of the castle wall. Had he seen the gargoyle carry me away? Or had he been distracted and found both the gargoyle and me missing? Either way, I'd have to come up with an explanation.

But not now. Not yet.

My mind was racing. Until Cleo had arrived, I'd been just about able to explain it away. A dream. A coma. It wasn't real. Yet she'd made it clear that not only did she believe in aliens, but she worked with them on a daily basis. That was all she'd said. She'd signed about a thousand NDAs and wasn't allowed to tell me anymore. Hence the drive to Glasgow City Centre to meet Cleo's boss.

Cleo opened the door for me, sleeping child in a baby wrap carrier around her chest. Her other two kids were in nursery and primary school for another few hours. I was grateful I had a friend with me. This was all too weird to do by myself.

Upstairs, a tiny yet voluptuous lady with a mass of auburn curls waited for us. She was a bit older than us, maybe in her late forties, but I could feel her energy as soon as I stepped through the door.

“Hi! You must be Georgie. I'm Pam, owner and founder of Hot Tatties. Not that you need a dating agency, if what Cleo said on the phone is correct?” She grinned knowingly. “I've made some tea. Let's have a chat in one of our meeting rooms. It's cosier than my office.”

By the time we were sitting on a purple sofa that took up half the room, with Pam on a Chesterfield armchair opposite, a cup of tea in hand and a bowl of chocolate biscuits on the table between us, I was bursting with questions.

“So, aliens...” I began.

Cleo and Pam looked at each other, then laughed.

“Yes. Aliens.” Pam said. “They're real. They've been coming to Earth for a long time. And they are walking among us. Or swimming among us, in the case of the Finfolk.”

“How?” I asked. “How is that possible? We'd know. You can't keep a secret like that, not nowadays, not when everyone is on social media. Does the government know? Do they work with the aliens?”

Pam smiled patiently. “Not that we know of. My agency has an exclusive line to the Intergalactic Authority who regulate who gets to visit Earth for the purpose of finding mates. Nowadays, that's only three species of aliens. That's not to say others don't go against the law. The occasional abduction still happens. And then there are special permissions for scientists. The Intergalactic University has been doing a lot of research here recently.”

“The Intergalactic... You're making fun of me.”

Cleo put a hand on my knee. “I know it's a lot to take in. I didn't believe it at first either. Only when I stood face to face with a blue-skinned alien Vikingr did it really sink in.”

“And you... match these aliens with humans?” I asked slowly.

Pam grinned. “Yes. It all happened by accident, as all good things do. We learned a lot through our first experiences with the Albyans.”

“Big, four-armed warriors wearing kilts,” Cleo whispered.

Okay then. That sounded bloody weird. But not weirder than a gargoyle coming to life.

“Let's talk about you,” Pam said, taking a sip of her tea. My mug was forgotten in my lap. I could have done with a large vodka instead. “How did you come to meet this alien?”

I told her my story. Pam and Cleo listened intently, clearly fascinated to hear about a new species of extraterrestrial. At least they believed me. I didn't feel like I had to explain myself.

“So he was actual stone until he came to life?” Pam asked when I got to the part where Cairn flew off towards the Ochil mountains.

“Yes. He's been on that castle wall since at least 1538. There are historic records. Drawings. Black-and-white photographs. Technically, those old records also say that a French stonemason carved him, but I guess that must have been a lie. Unless he's lying about being an alien and is actually a gargoyle who came to life through magic. I'm getting to a point where I'll believe anything.”

I sighed. This was exhausting. I'd rather spend a full day climbing ladders than having to deal with this absolute mindfuck.

Cleo smiled at me. “We've all been there. Trust me. You're among people who know just how hard it is to get your head around the fact that aliens are real. Even now, after years of working for the agency, I still sometimes sit and wonder if it's all real.”

“I just don't understand why he woke now,” I muttered. “He's had five centuries to wake. I barely even touched him. Hundreds, thousands of other people will have touched him before. The gargoyles get cleaned of moss and dirt regularly.”

“Have you personally cleaned him before?” Pam asked.

“No. I'm usually responsible for the monuments on the west coast, not the central belt.”