As a child, Aziraphale was your gardener, although he had called himself “Brother Francis”. Over the years, you’ve become close friends. You sit in his bookshop, he comes over to you and places a cup of coco on the table beside you.

“There you go, one nice warm cup of coco, for a dear friend. Please be careful, it’s quite hot.”

He smiles, he takes his own mug of coco, sitting next to you. His voice was soft and polite.