Читать книгу Cecelia Ahern 2-Book Gift Collection: The Gift, Thanks for the Memories - Cecelia Ahern, Cecelia Ahern - Страница 25

At 5.59 a.m., Lou awoke. The previous evening had gone exactly as predicted: by the time he had made it to bed, Ruth’s back had been firmly turned with the bedclothes tightly tucked around her, leaving her as accessible as a fig in a roll. The message was loud and clear.

Lou couldn’t find it within himself to comfort her, to cross over that line that separated them in bed, and in life, to make things okay. Even as students, broke and staying in the worst accommodations he had ever experienced, with the temperamental heating and bathrooms they had had to share with dozens of others, things had never been like this. They’d shared a single bed in a box-bedroom so small that they had to walk outside for a change of mind, but they didn’t mind, in fact they loved being so close to each other. Now they had a giant six-foot-six bed, so big that even when they both lay on their backs their fingers just about brushed when they stretched out. A monstrosity of space and cold spots covered the sheets that couldn’t be reached to be warmed.

Lou thought back to the beginning, when he and Ruth had first met – two young nineteen-year-olds, carefree and drunk, celebrating the end of first-year university Christmas exams. With a few weeks’ break ahead of them and concerns about results far from their minds, they had met on comedy night in the International Bar on Wicklow Street. After that night, Lou had thought about her every day while back home with his parents for the holidays. With every slice of turkey, every sweet wrapper he unravelled, every family fight over Monopoly, she was in his mind. Because of her he’d even lost his title in the Count the Stuffing competition he’d had with Marcia and Quentin. Lou stared at the ceiling and smiled, remembering how each year he and his siblings – paper crowns on their heads and tongues dangling from their mouths – would get down to counting every crumb of stuffing on their plate, long after his parents had left the table. Every year, Marcia and Quentin would join together to beat him, but they couldn’t sustain the desire, and his dedication – some would say obsession – could never be matched. But it was matched that year, and then beaten by Quentin, because the phone had rung and it had been her, and that had been it for Lou. Childish ways were put behind. Or that was supposed to be the theory of when he became a man. Perhaps he wasn’t one yet.

The nineteen-year-old of that Christmas would have longed for this moment right now. He would have grabbed the opportunity with both hands, to be transported to the future just to have her right beside him in a fine bed, in a fine house, with two beautiful children sleeping in the next rooms. He looked at Ruth beside him in bed. She had rolled onto her back, her mouth slightly parted, her hair like a haystack on top of her head. He smiled.

She’d done better than him in those Christmas exams, which was no hard task, but she had repeated that performance the following three years too. Study had always come so easily to her, while he, on the other hand, seemed to have to burn the candle at both ends in order just to scrape by. He didn’t know where she ever found the time to think, let alone study, she was so busy leading the way through their adventurous nights on the town. They’d crashed parties on a weekly basis, then been thrown out, slept on fire escapes, and Ruth still made it into college for the first lecture with her assignments completed. She could do it all at once. Ruth had led the way for everybody, always bored with sitting around. She’d needed adventure, she’d needed outrageous situations and anything that wasn’t ordinary. He was the life and she had been the soul of every party and every day.

Any time he’d failed an exam and had been forced to repeat, she’d been there, writing out essays for him to learn. She’d spend the summers turning study into quiz-show games, introducing prizes and buzzers, quick-fire rounds and punishments. She’d dress up in her finery, acting as quiz-show host, assistant, model, displaying all the fine things he could win if he answered all the questions correctly. She made score cards, wrote out questions, included tacky music and fake applause into every quiz they had. Food shopping was a game; with her controlling the list of treats like a game-show host. For a box of popcorn answer her this.

‘Pass,’ he’d say, frustrated, trying to grab the box anyway.

‘No passing, Lou, you know this one,’ she’d say firmly, blocking the shelves.

He wouldn’t know the answer but she’d make him know it. Somehow she’d push him until he reached deep into a part of his brain that he didn’t know existed and he’d find the answer he never knew that he knew. Just before making love, she’d stall and pull away from him.

‘Answer me this.’

Despite his protests and wrestling to get what he wanted, she’d hold back. ‘Come on, Lou, you know this one.’

If he didn’t know it, he’d make himself know it.

They planned to go to Australia together after university. A year’s adventure away from Ireland before life started. Determined to succeed and follow friends over there, they spent the year saving for the flights; him working behind a bar in Temple Bar while she tended tables. They saved for the dream together, but he failed his final exams and Ruth didn’t. He would have packed it all in there and then, but she wouldn’t let him, influencing his decision and convincing him he could do it, as she did everything. So while he began the first few months of the same year again, Ruth celebrated passing with flying colours, receiving an honours degree at a graduation ceremony that Lou couldn’t bring himself to attend. He’d attended the afters, though, had a few too many drinks and made the night miserable for her. He could at least do that for her.

In the year waiting for him to finish, Ruth completed a Business Masters Degree. Just for something to do. She never once pushed it in his face, never made him feel a failure, never celebrated any wonderful achievement of her own in order not to make him feel any less. She was always the friend, the girlfriend, the life and soul of every party, the A student and achiever.

Was that when he started resenting her? All the way back then? He didn’t know if it was because he never felt good enough, whether it was a way of punishing her, or whether there was no psychology behind it and he was just too weak and too selfish to say no when an attractive woman so much as looked his way – never mind when they’d grab their handbags, their coats and then his hand. Because when that happened, he forgot all sense of himself. He knew right from wrong, of course he did, but on those occasions he didn’t particularly care. He was invincible, there would be no consequences and no repercussions.

Ruth had caught him with the nanny six months previously. There had only been a few incidences with her in particular, but he knew that if there were levels of fairness for having affairs, which in his opinion there were, sex with the nanny was somewhere close to the bottom. There had been nobody since then, apart from a fumble with Alison, which had been a mistake. If there were levels of acceptable excuses for having affairs, and there were for Lou, then that would have been at the top. He’d been drunk, she was attractive, and it had happened but he regretted it deeply. It didn’t count.

‘Lou,’ Ruth snapped, breaking into his thoughts and giving him a fright.

He looked at her. ‘Morning,’ he smiled. ‘You’ll never guess what I was just thinking ab—’

‘Do you not hear that?’ she interrupted him. ‘You’re wide awake, staring at the ceiling.’

‘Huh?’ He turned to his left and noticed the clock had struck six. ‘Oh, sorry.’ He leaned across and switched off the beeping alarm.

He’d clearly done something wrong because her face went a deep red and she fired herself out of bed as though she had been released from a catapult, then charged out of the room, her hair firing out in all directions as though she’d stuck her fingers in a socket. It was only then that he heard Pud’s cries again.

‘Shit.’ He rubbed his eyes tiredly.

‘You said a bad wud,’ said a little voice from behind the door.

‘Morning, Lucy,’ he smiled.

Her figure appeared then, a pink-sleeping-suited five-year-old, dragging her blanket along the ground behind her, her chocolate-brown hair and fringe tousled from her sleep. Her big brown eyes were the picture of concern. She stood at the end of the bed and Lou waited for her to say something.

‘You’re coming tonight, aren’t you, Daddy?’

‘What’s on tonight?’

‘My school play.’

‘Oh yeah, that, sweetie; you don’t really want me to go to that, do you?’

She nodded.

‘But why?’ He rubbed his eyes tiredly. ‘You know how busy Daddy is, it’s very hard for me to get there.’

‘But I’ve been practising.’

‘Why don’t you show me now, and then I won’t have to see you later.’

‘But I’m not wearing my costume.’

‘That’s okay. I’ll use my imagination. Mum always says it’s good to do that, doesn’t she?’ He kept an eye on the door to make sure Ruth wasn’t listening. ‘And you can do it for me while I get dressed, okay?’

He threw the covers off and, as Lucy started prancing around, he rushed about the room, throwing on shorts and a vest for the gym.

‘Daddy, you’re not looking!’

‘I am, sweetheart, come downstairs to the gym with me. There are lots of mirrors there for you to practise in front of, that’ll be fun, won’t it?’

Once on the treadmill, he turned on the plasma and started watching Sky News.

‘Daddy, you’re not looking.’

‘I am, sweetie.’ He glanced at her once. ‘What are you?’

‘A leaf. It’s a windy day and I fall off the tree and I have to go like this.’ She twirled around the gym again and Lou looked away and back at the TV.

‘What’s a leaf got to do with Jesus?’

‘The singer?’ She stopped spinning and held on to the weights bench, slightly dizzy now.

He frowned. ‘No, not the singer. What’s the play about?’

She took a deep breath and then spoke as though she had memorised the story by heart. ‘The three wise men have to find a star.’

‘Follow a star,’ he corrected her, picking up the pace now and breaking out into a jog.

‘No, they find a star. So they are judges on the Find a Star show, and then Pontius Pilate sings and everybody boos and then Judas sings and everybody boos and then Jesus sings and then he wins because he has the X-factor.’

‘Jesus Christ.’ Lou rolled his eyes.

‘Yes, “Jesus Christ the Superstar” it’s called.’ She danced around some more.

‘So why are you a leaf?’

She shrugged and he had to laugh.

‘Will you come to see me, pleeeease?’

‘Yep,’ he said, wiping his face on a towel.

‘Promise?’

‘Absolutely,’ he said dismissively. ‘Okay, you go back up to your mum now, I’ve to take a shower.’

Twenty minutes later and already in work mode, Lou went into the kitchen to say a quick goodbye. Pud was in his highchair, rubbing banana and Liga into his hair; Lucy was sucking on a spoon and watching cartoons at top volume; and Ruth was in her dressing gown making Lucy’s school lunch. She looked exhausted.

‘Bye.’ He kissed Lucy on the head; she didn’t budge she was so engrossed in her cartoon. He hovered above Pud, trying to find a place on his face that wasn’t filled with food. ‘Eh, bye.’ He pecked him awkwardly on the top of his head. He made his way around to Ruth.

‘Do you want to meet me there at six or go together from here?’

‘Where?’

‘The school.’

‘Oh. About that.’ He lowered his voice.

‘You have to go, you promised.’ She stopped buttering the bread to look at him with instant anger.

‘Lucy showed me the dance downstairs and we had a talk, so she’s fine about me not being there.’ He picked at a slice of ham. ‘Do you know why the hell she’s a leaf in a nativity play?’

Ruth laughed. ‘Lou, I know you’re playing with me. I told you to put this in your diary last month. And then I reminded you last week, and I called that woman Tracey at the office –’

‘Ah, that’s what happened.’ He clicked his fingers in a gosh, darn-it kind of way. ‘Wires crossed. Tracey’s gone. Alison replaced her. So maybe there was a problem when they switched over.’ He tried to say it playfully, but Ruth’s happy face was slowly dissolving to disappointment, hatred, disgust, all rolled into one and all directed at him.

‘I mentioned it twice last week. I mentioned it yesterday morning, I’m like a frigging parrot with you and you still don’t remember. The school play and then dinner with your mum, dad, Alexandra and Quentin. And Marcia might be coming, if she can move around her therapy session.’

‘No, she really shouldn’t miss that.’ Lou rolled his eyes. ‘Ruthy, please, I would rather stick pins in my eyes than have dinner with them.’

‘They’re your family, Lou.’

‘All Quentin talks about are boats. Boats, boats, and more bloody boats. It is totally beyond him to think of any other conversation that doesn’t involve the words boom and cleat.’

‘You used to love sailing with Quentin.’

‘I used to love sailing. Not necessarily with Quentin, and that was years ago, I’d hardly know my boom from my cleat at this stage.’ He groaned. ‘Marcia … it’s not therapy she needs, it’s a good kick up the arse. Alexandra’s fine.’ He trailed off, lost in thought.

‘The boat or his wife,’ Ruth asked sarcastically, giving him a long sidelong look.

Lou didn’t hear her or ignored her. ‘I don’t know what she sees in Quentin, I can never figure it out. She’s in a totally different league to him.’

‘Your league, you mean?’ Ruth snapped.

‘It’s just that she’s a model, Ruth.’

‘So?’

‘The only thing Quentin has in common with a model is the fact he collects model boats.’ He laughed, then moved on, irritation quickly setting in. ‘Mum and Dad are coming too?’ he asked. ‘No way.’

‘Tough,’ she said, continuing with her lunch-making. ‘Lucy is expecting you at the play, your parents are excited, and I need you here. I can’t do the dinner and play host all on my own.’

‘Mum will help you.’

‘Your mother just had a hip replacement.’ Ruth tried her best not to shriek.

‘Don’t I know it, I collected her from hospital and got into trouble for it, like I said I would,’ he grumbled. ‘While Quentin was off on his boat.’

‘He was racing, Lou!’ She dropped the knife and turned to him, softening. ‘Please.’ She kissed him softly on the lips and he closed his eyes, lingering in the rare moment.

‘But I’ve so much to do at work,’ he said softly amid their kiss. ‘It’s important to me.’

Ruth pulled away. ‘Well, I’m glad something is, Lou, because for a moment there I almost thought you weren’t human.’ She was silent as she buttered the bread fiercely, the knife hitting the brown bread so roughly that it made holes. She slapped down slices of ham, tossed a slice of cheese at it then pushed down on the bread and sliced it diagonally with a sharp knife. She moved about the kitchen, slamming presses and violently ripping tin foil from the teeth of the packaging.

‘Okay, what’s up?’

‘What’s up? We’re not in this life just to work, we’re in it to live. We have to start doing things together, and that means you doing things for me even when you don’t want to, and vice versa. Otherwise, what’s the point?’

‘What do you mean vice versa, when do I ever make you do anything you don’t want to?’

‘Lou,’ she gritted her teeth, ‘they’re your bloody family, not mine.’

‘So cancel it! I don’t care.’

‘You have family responsibilities.’

‘But I have more work responsibilities, family can’t fire me if I don’t turn up to a bloody dinner, can they?’

‘Yes, they can, Lou,’ she said quietly, ‘they just don’t call it being fired.’

‘Is that a threat?’ He lowered his voice angrily. ‘You can’t throw comments like that at me, Ruth, it’s not fair.’

She opened a Barbie lunch box, slammed it down on the counter, threw in the sandwich, pineapple rings and kidney beans in Tupperware, a Barbie napkin was laid on top and she banged it closed. Despite being tossed around, Barbie didn’t blink once.

Ruth just looked at him and said nothing, allowing her stare to speak for her.

‘Okay, fine, I’ll do my best to be there,’ Lou said, both to please her and to get out of the house at the very same time, yet not meaning a word of it. On her look, he rephrased it with more meaning. ‘I’ll be there.’

Lou arrived at his office at eight a.m. A full hour before another soul would arrive, it was important for him to be the first in, it made him feel efficient, ahead of the pack. Pacing the small empty space of the elevator and wishing it was like that every day, he revelled in not having to stop at any other floors before getting to the fourteenth. He stepped out of the elevator into the quiet corridor. He could smell the products left behind from the cleaning staff last night. The carpet shampoo, furniture polish and air-fresheners still lingered, as yet untainted by morning coffee and body smells. Outside the glistening windows it was still pitch black at the early winter hour, and the windows seemed cold and hard. The wind whipped outside and he looked forward to leaving the eerily empty corridors and getting to his office for his morning routine.

En route to his office he stopped suddenly in his tracks. He could see that, as usual for this hour, Alison’s desk was empty, but his office door was ajar and the lights were on. He walked briskly towards the door and his heart began pounding with anger as, through the open door, he saw Gabe moving around his office. He yelled, then ran and fired his fist at the door, punching it open and watching it swing violently. He opened his mouth to yell again, but before he could get his words out he heard another voice coming from behind the door.

‘My goodness, who’s that?’ came the startled voice of his boss.

‘Oh, Mr Patterson. I’m sorry,’ Lou said breathlessly, quickly stopping the door from slamming against his face, ‘I didn’t realise you were in here.’ He rubbed his hand, his fist stinging and beginning to throb from punching the door.

‘Lou,’ the man said, catching his breath after taking a leap away from the door, ‘call me Laurence, for Christ’s sake, I keep telling you that. You’re full of … energy today, aren’t you?’ He tried to get his bearings after the shock.

‘Good morning, sir.’ Lou looked from Mr Patterson to Gabe uncertainly. ‘I’m sorry to have frightened you. I just thought that there was somebody in here who shouldn’t be.’ His eyes landed on Gabe.

‘Good morning, Lou,’ Gabe said politely.

‘Gabe.’ Lou slowly nodded at him in acknowledgement, wanting nothing more right then than an explanation as to why exactly Gabe and his boss were standing in his office at eight a.m.

He looked down at Gabe’s empty mail cart and then at the unfamiliar files lying on his desk. He thought back to the previous night, replayed finishing up his paperwork and filing them away, as always, unable to leave his desk with unfinished work. Knowing that neither he nor Alison, who’d finished work at four, had left the files there, he narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Gabe.

Gabe stared back unblinkingly.

‘I was just chatting to young Gabe here,’ Mr Patterson explained. ‘He told me that he started the job yesterday, and isn’t he just wonderful being the first into the office? That shows such dedication to the job.’

‘First in? Really?’ Lou faked a smile. ‘Wow. Looks like you beat me to it this morning because I’m usually the first in.’ Lou turned to Mr Patterson and offered his big white smile. ‘But you already knew that, didn’t you, Gabe?’

Gabe returned the smile with an equal sincerity. ‘You know what they say, the early bird catches the worm.’

‘Yes it does. It catches it indeed.’ Lou glared at him with a grin. A glare and a grin. Both at the same time.

Mr Patterson watched the exchange with growing discomfort. ‘Well, it’s just after eight, I should leave.’

‘After eight, you say. That’s funny,’ Lou perked up. ‘The mail hasn’t even arrived yet. What, em, what exactly are you doing in my office, Gabe?’ His voice had an edge to it that was clearly recognisable, as Mr Patterson looked uncomfortable and Gabe took on a peculiar smile.

‘Well, I came in early to familiarise myself with the building. There are so many floors for me to get through in such a short period of time, I wanted to figure out who was where.’

‘Isn’t that wonderful?’ Mr Patterson said, breaking the silence.

‘Yes, it is, but you already knew where my office was,’ Lou said tightly. ‘You had familiarised yourself with it yesterday … so what, may I ask, are you doing inside my office?’

‘Now, now, Lou, I fear I must jump in here,’ Mr Patterson said awkwardly. ‘I met young Gabe in the hallway and we got talking. As a favour for me, I’d asked him to bring some files to your office. He was delivering them to the desk when I realised I’d left one in my briefcase. Though he moved very quickly, I have to say that I’d just turned around when he was gone. Poof! Just like that!’ Mr Patterson chuckled.

‘Poof!’ Gabe grinned at Lou. ‘That’s me all right.’

‘I like fast workers, I must say, but I prefer fast and efficient, and my goodness you certainly are that.’

Lou almost said thank you, but Gabe jumped in.

‘Thank you, Mr Patterson, and if there’s anything else at all you’d like me to do for you, please let me know. I finish my shift at lunchtime and would be only too happy to help out around here for the rest of the afternoon. I’m keen to work.’

Lou’s stomach tightened.

‘That’s wonderful, Gabe, thank you, I’ll keep that in mind. Right Lou,’ Mr Patterson turned to face him and Lou expected Gabe, no longer a part of this conversation, to leave. But he didn’t. ‘I wonder if you’d be able to meet with Bruce Archer this evening, you remember him.’

Lou nodded, his heart sinking.

‘I was supposed to meet him, but I was reminded this morning of something else I have to attend.’

‘This evening?’ Lou asked, his mind racing.

While thinking about the offer he was picturing Lucy twirling around the gym in her sleeping suit and Ruth’s face when he’d opened his eyes prematurely from that kiss and caught her looking as beautiful and serene as he’d ever remembered her.

He realised they were both staring at him, Gabe’s eyes in particular searing into him.

‘Yes, this evening. Only if you’re free. I can ask Alfred to do it otherwise, so please don’t worry.’ Mr Patterson waved his hand dismissively.

‘No, no,’ Lou jumped in quickly. ‘This evening is no problem. That’s no problem.’

In his mind, Lucy, dizzy from the twirling, fell to the ground, and Ruth opened her eyes and pulled away from their kiss, his promise of less than an hour ago having broken the spell.

‘Great. Great. Well, Melissa can fill you in on the details, time and venue, etc. I have a big night tonight,’ he winked at Gabe. ‘It’s my little one’s Christmas play, I’d forgotten about it until he came running to me dressed as star, would you believe. But I wouldn’t miss it for the world,’ Mr Patterson smiled.

‘Right, yeah.’ Lou felt a lump in his throat. ‘That’s important, all right.’

‘Right, so, enjoy tonight and well done for finding this lad.’ Mr Patterson patted Gabe on the back.

While Lou turned to glare at Gabe, he heard a familiar cheery call behind him.

‘Morning, Laurence.’

‘Ah, Alfred,’ Mr Patterson said.

Alfred was a tall man, six foot with white-blond hair, kind of like an oversized Milky Bar kid who had melted and been moulded back together by the hands of a child. He always spoke with a smirk on his face and in the kind of accent that came with being privately schooled in England, despite spending the summers in Ireland, where he was from. His nose was disjointed from his rugby days and he swanned around the office, as Gabe had observed the previous day, kicking the tassels of his boat shoes in the air, one hand in his pocket, with the air of someone – a naughty schoolboy – who was up to tricks.

Alfred’s eyes fell upon Gabe, then quite obviously looked him up and down in silence and waited to be introduced. Gabe imitated him, confidently giving Alfred the once-over.

‘Nice shoes,’ Gabe finally said, and Lou looked down at the brown loafers Gabe had described yesterday.

‘Thank you.’ Alfred was a little put out.

‘I also like your shoes, Mr Patterson,’ Gabe commented, looking across.

In a slightly awkward moment, all eyes looked down at the men’s feet. A peculiar thing for most, apart from Lou, whose heart was pumping at a ridiculous rate at the sight of the black slip-ons and the brown loafers. The exact shoes Gabe had described to Lou the previous morning. So Alfred was meeting with Mr Patterson. Lou looked from Alfred to Mr Patterson, feeling a sense of betrayal. It wasn’t official that Cliff ’s job was up for grabs, but if it was, Lou was hellbent on making sure it would be his, not Alfred’s.

Mr Patterson bid farewell and took off down the corridor, swinging his briefcase jollily in his hand.

‘Who are you?’ Alfred asked Gabe, bringing Lou back into the room.

‘I’m Gabriel.’ Gabe held out his hand. ‘Friends call me Gabe, but you can call me Gabriel,’ he smiled.

‘Charming. Alfred.’ Alfred reached out his hand.

Their shake was cold and limp and their hands quickly fell by their sides. Alfred even wiped his on his trouser leg, whether it was consciously done or not.

‘Do I know you?’ Alfred narrowed his eyes.

‘No, we’ve never actually met, but you may recognise me.’

‘Why’s that, were you in a reality show or something?’ Alfred studied him again, with a smirk but a less confident one.

‘You used to pass by me every day, just outside this building.’

Alfred narrowed his eyes, studying Gabe, and he looked back at Lou with a slightly nervous smile. ‘Help me out here, pal.’

‘I used to sit at the doorway next door. Lou gave me a job.’

Alfred’s face broke into a smile, the relief more than obvious on his arrogant face. His demeanour shifted and he became the big man of the fraternity again, knowing that his position wasn’t threatened by a homeless man.

He laughed as he turned to Lou, making a face and using a tone that he didn’t even attempt to disguise in Gabe’s company. ‘You gave him a job, Lou?’ he said, turning his back on Gabe. ‘Well isn’t it the season to be jolly, indeed. What the hell is going on with you?’

‘Alfred, just leave it,’ Lou replied, embarrassed.

‘Okay.’ Alfred held his hands up in defence and chuckled to himself. ‘Stress affects us all in different ways, I suppose. Hey, can I use your bathroom?’

‘What? No, not here, Alfred, just use the restrooms.’

‘Come on, don’t be a dick.’ His tongue sounded too big for his mouth as it rolled around his words. ‘I’ll just be a second. See you around, Gabe, I’ll try to aim my coins at your cart when you pass by,’ Alfred joked, giving Gabe the once-over again. He smirked and winked at Lou before making his way to the toilet.

From the office, Lou and Gabe could hear loud sniffing.

‘There seems to be a nasty cold going around this district,’ Gabe smiled.

Lou rolled his eyes. ‘Look, I’m sorry, Gabe – he’s, you know, don’t take him seriously.’

‘Oh, nobody should ever take anybody seriously really, you can’t control anything but what’s inside this circle.’ Gabe’s arms made a movement around his body. ‘Until we all do that, nobody can be taken seriously. Here, I got you this.’ He leaned down to the bottom tray of the cart and lifted up a Styrofoam cup of coffee. ‘I owe you from yesterday. It’s a latte, the machine was back working again.’

‘Oh, thanks.’ Lou felt even worse, now totally conflicted as to how he felt about this man.

‘So, you’re going for dinner tonight?’ Gabe undid the brake on the cart and started to move away, one of the wheels squeaking as he pushed it.

‘No, just a coffee. Not dinner.’ Lou was unsure if Gabe wanted to be invited. ‘It’s no big deal really. I’ll be in and out in an hour at most.’

‘Oh, come on, Lou,’ Gabe smiled, and he sounded alarmingly like Ruth. Oh, come on, Lou, you know this one. But he didn’t finish the sentence in quite the same way. ‘You know these things always turn into dinner,’ Gabe continued. ‘Then drinks and then whatever,’ he winked. ‘You’ll be in trouble at home, won’t you, Aloysius,’ he said, in a sing-song voice that chilled Lou to the bone.

Gabe exited the office and made his way towards the elevator, the squeaking of the wheel loud in the empty hallway.

‘Hey!’ Lou called after him, but he didn’t turn around. ‘Hey!’ he repeated. ‘How did you know that? Nobody knows that!’

Even though he was alone in the office, Lou quickly looked around to make sure no one had heard.

‘Relax! I won’t tell anyone,’ Gabe called back to him in a voice that made Lou feel far from reassured. Lou watched as Gabe pressed the call button for the elevator and lingered by the doors, while the elevator began to rise from the ground floor.

The bathroom door opened and Alfred exited, rubbing at his nose and sniffing. ‘What’s all the shouting about? Hey, where did you get the coffee?’

‘Gabe,’ Lou replied, distracted.

‘Who? Oh, the homeless guy,’ Alfred said with disinterest. ‘Really, Lou, what the hell were you thinking, he could wipe you out.’

‘What do you mean, wipe me out?’

‘Come on, were you born yesterday? You’ve taken a man who has nothing and put him in a place where there is everything. Ever heard of a thing called temptation? Actually, forget I asked, it’s you I’m talking to,’ he winked. ‘You give in to that every time. Perhaps you and the homeless man aren’t so different,’ he added. ‘You look alike, that’s for sure. Maybe sing “Feed the Birds”, or something, and we’ll see,’ he laughed, his chest wheezing, the result of a forty-a-day habit.

‘Well, that says a lot about your upbringing, Alfred, that your only reference to a homeless person would be something from Mary Poppins,’ Lou snapped.

Alfred’s wheezing broke out into a cough. ‘Sorry, pal. Did I hit a sore point?’

‘We’re nothing alike,’ Lou spat, looking back down at the elevators to Gabe.

But Gabe was gone. The elevator pinged and the doors opened, revealing nobody inside, and with nobody to step in. In the reflection in the mirror that lined the back wall of the elevator, Lou could see the confusion written all over his face.