Читать книгу Cecelia Ahern 2-Book Gift Collection: The Gift, Thanks for the Memories - Cecelia Ahern, Cecelia Ahern - Страница 27

At five p.m., at exactly the same time that Lou should have been leaving the building in order to get home for Lucy’s school play, he instead paced the floor of his office. From the door to the desk, from the desk to the door, and back again. Over and over again. The door was wide open, prepared for Lou’s eventual catapult launch down the corridor and into Mr Patterson’s office, where he would announce he was unable to meet Bruce Archer for coffee. Not unlike Mr Patterson, he too had family commitments. Tonight, Laurence, his daughter was going to be a leaf. For some reason it made him weaken at the knees. Each time he reached the doorway he stopped short, and instead he’d turn around and continue his pace around his desk.

Alison eyed him curiously from her desk, looking up from her typing each time he reached the doorway. Finally, the sounds of her acrylic nails against the keys stopped.

‘Lou, is there something I can do for you?’

He’d looked at her then, as though realising for the first time that he was in an office; that Alison had been there all along. He straightened himself up, fixed his tie, and cleared his throat.

‘Eh … no, thank you, Alison,’ he said, more formally than he’d meant, so intent on convincing her of his sanity that he came across as a drunken man trying to appear sober.

He began pacing towards his desk again but then stopped himself and poked his head outside the door. ‘Actually, Alison, this coffee meeting …’

‘With Bruce Archer, yes.’

‘It’s just coffee, isn’t it?’

‘So Mr Patterson said.’

‘And he knows that it’s me that’s going to meet him?’

‘Mr Patterson?’

‘No, Bruce Archer.’

‘Mr Patterson called him earlier to explain that he wouldn’t be able to make it but that a colleague of his would be more than happy to meet him instead.’

‘Right. So he might not be expecting me?’

‘Would you like me to confirm that for you? Again?’

‘Eh … no. I mean yes.’ He thought about that while Alison’s hand hovered over the receiver. ‘No,’ he said, then headed back into his office. Seconds later he poked his head out the door again. ‘Yes. Confirm.’ And then he quickly ducked inside again.

While he was pacing, he heard Alison call cheerily, ‘Hi Gabe.’

Lou froze, and then for reasons unknown found himself rushing to the door, where he stood with his back to the wall and listened to their conversation through the open door.

‘Hi Alison.’

‘You look smart today.’

‘Thanks. Mr Patterson has asked me to do a few jobs for him around here, so I thought it would be a good idea to look a bit more respectable.’

Lou peeked through the gap in the hinges of the door and spied Gabe, his new haircut combed neatly like Lou’s. A new dark suit, similar to one that Lou owned, was draped over his shoulder and covered in plastic.

‘Is the new suit for up here too?’ Alison asked.

‘Oh, this? This is just for me to have. You never know when a suit will come in handy,’ he gave what Lou considered a very curious answer. ‘Anyway, I’m here to give you these. I think they’re plans. I believe Lou wanted to see them.’

‘Where did you get these from?’

‘I collected them from the architect.’

‘But he was working from home today,’ Alison said, looking inside the manila envelope with confusion.

‘Yes, I collected them from his home.’

‘But Lou just asked Mr Patterson for these five minutes ago. How did you get them so quickly?’

‘Oh, I don’t know, I just, you know …’ Lou could see Gabe’s shoulders shrugging.

‘No, I don’t know,’ Alison laughed. ‘But I wish I did. Keep working like this and I wouldn’t be surprised if Mr Patterson gives you Lou’s job.’

They laughed and Lou bristled, making a note to make Alison’s life hell right after this conversation.

‘Is Lou in right now?’

‘Yes, he is. Why?’

‘Is he going to meet with Bruce Archer today?’

‘Yes. At least, I think so. Why?’

‘Oh, no reason. Just wondering. Is Alfred free this evening?’

‘Lou asked me the very same thing earlier, that’s funny. Yes, Alfred’s free, I checked with his secretary. That’s Louise, you’d like her.’ She giggled flirtatiously.

‘So let me get this straight. Lou knows that Alfred is available to meet with Bruce, if Lou decides to back out.’

‘Yes, I already told him. Why, what’s going on?’ She lowered her voice. ‘What’s the big deal about this evening? Lou’s been acting funny about it.’

‘He has? Hmm.’

That was it. Lou couldn’t take it any more. He closed his office door, no doubt startling them both. He sat down at his desk and picked up the phone.

‘Yes?’ Alison answered.

‘Get me Harry from the mailroom on the phone, and after that call Ronan Pearson and check with him if Gabe collected the plans from him personally. Do this without Gabe knowing.’

‘Yes, of course, just one moment please,’ she said professionally in her best telephone voice.

The phone rang and Lou adjusted his tie once again, cleared his throat and spun around in his oversized leather chair to face the window. The day was cold but crisp, there wasn’t a breeze as shoppers rushed to and fro worshipping the new religion this season, their arms laden down with bags amid flashing primary colours of the numerous neon signs.

‘Yello,’ Harry barked down the phone.

‘Harry, it’s Lou.’

‘What?’ Harry asked loudly, the sounds of machines and voices loud behind him, and Lou had no choice but to speak up. He looked behind him to make sure he had the all-clear before speaking. ‘It’s Lou, Harry.’

‘Lou who?’

‘Suffern.’

‘Oh, Lou, hi, how can I can help you? Your post end up on twelve again?’

‘No, no, I got it, thanks.’

‘Good. That new boy you sent my way is genius, isn’t he?’

‘He is?’

‘Gabe? Absolutely. Everyone’s calling me with nothing but good reviews. It’s like he fell from the stars. I’m telling you that he couldn’t have come at a better time, that’s no word of a lie. We were struggling, you know that. In all of my years in this job, this Christmas season is the wildest. Everything’s getting faster and faster it seems. Well it must be because it’s not me that’s getting slower, that’s for sure. You picked a good one, Lou, I owe you. How can I help you today?’

‘Well, about Gabe,’ he said slowly, his heart pounding in his chest. ‘You know he’s taken on some other commitments in the building. Other work outside of the mailroom.’

‘I heard that all right. He was as excited as anything this morning. Got a new suit, and all, on his break. I don’t know where he found the time to get it, some of them in here can’t even light their cigarette in the time given. He’s quick, that boy. I’d say it won’t be long before he’s out of here and up there with you. Mr Patterson seems to have taken a shine to him. I’m happy for him, he’s a good kid.’

‘Yeah … anyway, I was just calling to let you know. I didn’t want it to conflict with his work with you.’ Lou tried one more time. ‘You wouldn’t want him to be distracted, with his mind on other things that he’s doing on these floors. You know? It gets so manic up here and distraction can so easily happen.’

‘I appreciate that, Lou, but what he does after one p.m. is his own business. To be honest with you, I’m glad he’s found something else. He gets the job done so quickly it’s a struggle to keep him busy till the first break.’

‘Right. Okay. So, if he acts up in any way you just go ahead and do what you have to do, Harry. I don’t want you to feel in any way obligated to keep him on for me. You know?’

‘I know that, Lou, I do. He’s a good lad, you’ve nothing to worry about.’

‘Okay. Thanks. Take care, Harry.’

The phone went dead. Lou sighed and slowly spun around in his chair to replace the receiver. As he turned he came face-to-face with Gabe, who was standing behind his desk, watching him intently.

Lou jumped, dropping the receiver, and let out a yelp.

‘Jesus Christ.’ He held his hand over his pounding heart.

‘No. It’s just me,’ Gabe said, blue eyes searing into Lou’s.

‘Have you ever heard of knocking? Where’s Alison?’ Lou leaned sideways to check her station and saw that it was empty. ‘How long have you been there?’

‘Long enough.’ Gabe’s voice was soft, and it was that which unnerved Lou most. ‘Trying to get me in trouble, Lou?’

‘What?’ Lou’s heart pounded wildly, still unrecovered from the surprise, and also alarmingly discomfited by Alison’s absence and Gabe’s proximity. The man’s very presence disconcerted him.

‘No,’ he swallowed, and he hated himself for his sudden weakness. ‘I just called Harry to see if he was happy with you. That’s all.’ He was aware of the fact he sounded like a schoolboy defending himself.

‘And is he?’

‘As it turns out, yes. But you must understand how I feel a responsibility to him for finding you.’

‘Finding me,’ Gabe smiled, and said the words as though he’d never heard them or pronounced them before.

‘What’s so funny about that?’

‘Nothing,’ Gabe continued the smile, and began looking around Lou’s office, hands in his pockets, with that same patronising look that was neither jealousy nor admiration.

‘It’s five twenty-two p.m. and thirty-three seconds now,’ Gabe said, not even looking at his watch. ‘Thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-six …’ He turned and smiled at Lou. ‘You get the idea.’

‘So?’ Lou put his suit jacket on and secretly tried to get a glimpse at his watch to make sure. It was spot-on five twenty-two.

‘You have to leave now, don’t you?’

‘What does it look like I’m doing?’

Gabe wandered over to the meeting table and picked up three pieces of fruit from the bowl – two oranges and an apple – which he inspected closely, one by one. ‘Decisions, decisions,’ he said. He held the three pieces of fruit in his hand.

‘Hungry?’ Lou asked, agitated.

‘No,’ Gabe laughed again. ‘You any good at juggling?’

That same feeling struck Lou’s heart, and he remembered exactly what it was that he didn’t like about Gabe. It was questions like that, statements and comments that pierced Lou somewhere other than where they should.

‘You’d better get that,’ Gabe added.

‘Get what?’

Before Gabe could respond, the phone rang and, despite preferring having Alison screen his calls, he dove for it.

It was Ruth.

‘Hi honey.’ He motioned to Gabe for privacy, but Gabe began juggling the fruit in response. Lou turned his back, and then, feeling uncomfortable with Gabe behind him, he faced front to keep an eye on Gabe. He lowered his voice.

‘Em, yeah, about tonight, something’s come up and –’

‘Lou, don’t do this to me,’ Ruth said. ‘Lucy’s heart will be broken.’

‘It’s just the play I won’t make, sweetheart, and Lucy won’t even notice I’m not there, the place will be so dark. You can tell her I was there. The rest of the night is fine. Mr Patterson asked me to meet with a client of ours. It’s a big deal, and it could help me with getting Cliff ’s job, you know?’

‘I know, I know. And then if you do get a promotion, you’ll be away from us even more.’

‘No, no, I won’t be. I just have to really slog for these months to prove myself.’

‘Who are you trying to prove yourself to? Laurence already knows your capabilities, you’ve been with the company five years. Anyway, I don’t want to get into this conversation now. Will you make the play or not?’

‘The play?’ Lou bit his lip and looked at his watch. ‘No, no, I won’t make it.’

Gabe dropped the apple, which rolled across the carpet towards Lou’s desk, and continued juggling with the oranges. Lou felt a childish sense of satisfaction that Gabe had failed.

‘So you’ll make it home for dinner? With your parents and Alexandra and Quentin? Your mum has just been on the phone saying how much she’s looking forward to it. You know, it’s a month since you’ve called to see them.’

‘It’s not been a month since I’ve seen them. I saw Dad just,’ he went quiet while calculating the time in his head, ‘well, you know, maybe it’s almost a month.’ A month? How the time had flown.

For Lou, visiting his parents was a chore, like making the bed. After not doing it for some time, the sight of the untidy blankets would play on his mind until he’d do it to get it over and done with. He’d instantly feel a satisfaction that it had been completed, and just when he thought it was over with and out of the way, he’d wake up and know he had to go and do it all over again. The thought of his father complaining to him about how it had been so long since he’d seen him made Lou want to run in the other direction. It was the same one whinging sentence that drove him insane. Though partly it made him feel guilty, it mostly made him want to stay away longer to avoid hearing those words. He needed to be in the mood to hear it, to detach the sentiments from his head so that he wouldn’t bark back and rattle off the hours he’d been working and the deals he’d negotiated, just to shut his father up. He was most certainly not in the mood today. Maybe if he got home when they’d all had a few drinks it would be easier.

‘I might not make dinner but I’ll be there for dessert. You have my word on that.’

Gabe dropped an orange and Lou felt like punching the ceiling with celebration. Instead he pursed his lips and continued to make excuses to Ruth for everything, refusing to apologise for something that was totally out of his control. Lou finally hung up the phone and folded his arms across his chest.

‘What’s so funny?’ Gabe asked, throwing the one remaining orange up and down in his hand, the other hand in his pocket.

‘Not such a good juggler, are you?’ he smirked.

‘Touché,’ Gabe smiled. ‘You’re very observant. Indeed, I’m not a good juggler, but it’s not really juggling if I’d already chosen to drop those two and keep this one in my hand, is it?’

Lou frowned at the peculiar response and busied himself at his desk, putting on his overcoat and preparing to leave.

‘No, Gabe, it’s certainly not juggling if you choose …’ He stopped suddenly, realising what he was saying and hearing Ruth’s voice in his head. His head snapped up, feeling that cold chill again, but Gabe was gone and the orange was before him on his desk.

‘Alison,’ Lou marched out of his office with the orange in his hand, ‘did Gabe just walk out of here?’

Alison lifted a finger up to signal for him to wait, while she took notes on a notepad and listened to the voice at the other end of the phone.

‘Alison,’ he interrupted her again, and she panicked slightly, writing faster, nodding quickly and holding up her full hand this time.

‘Alison,’ he snapped, holding his hand down over the receiver to end her call. ‘I don’t have all day.’

She stared at him with her mouth open, receiver dangling from her hand. ‘I can’t believe you just –’

‘Yeah, well, I did, get over it. Did Gabe walk by?’ he asked. His voice was rushed, running along, skipping and jumping to keep up with his heart.

‘Em …’ she thought slowly, ‘he came up to my desk about twenty minutes ago and –’

‘Yeah, yeah, I know all that. He was in my office a second ago and then he was gone. Just now. Did he walk by?’

‘Well, he must have, but –’

‘Did you see him?’

‘No, I was on the phone and –’

‘Jesus.’ He punched the desk with his already sore fist. ‘Ah, crap.’ He cradled it close to him.

‘What’s wrong, Lou? Calm down.’ Alison stood up and reached her hand out towards him.

Lou pulled away. ‘Oh, by the way,’ he dropped his voice and leaned closer again, ‘does any of my post ever come to me under a different name?’

‘What do you mean?’ she frowned.

‘You know –’ He looked left and right and barely moved his lips as he spoke. ‘Aloysius,’ he mumbled.

‘Aloysius?’ she said loudly.

He threw his eyes up. ‘Keep it down,’ he mumbled.

‘No.’ She lowered her voice. ‘I’ve never seen the name Aloysius on any of the mail.’ As though there were a time delay from her voice to her ears, she smiled, then snorted, and then started laughing. ‘Why the hell would there be Aloy—’ On his look, her words disappeared and her smile faded. ‘Oh. Oh dear. That’s a –’ her voice went an octave higher, ‘lovely name.’

Lou walked across the newly constructed Seán O’Casey pedestrian bridge that linked the two rejuvenated north and south quays, the North Wall Quay to Sir John Rogerson’s Quay. One hundred metres across the bridge brought him to his destination, The Ferryman, the only authentic pub left on this stretch of quays. It wasn’t a place for cappuccinos or ciabattas, and because of that the clientele was specific. The bar contained a handful of Christmas shoppers who’d wandered off the beaten track to take a break and to wrap purple-fingered hands around their heated glasses. Apart from the few shoppers it was filled with workers, young and old, winding down after their day’s work. Suits filled the seats, pints and shorts filled the surfaces. Just after six p.m. and already people had escaped the business district and into their nearest place of solace to worship at the altar of beers on tap.

Bruce Archer was one such person, propped at the bar, Guinness in hand, roaring with laughter over something somebody beside him had said. Another suit. And then there was another. Shoulder pads to shoulder pads. Pin-striped suits and diamond socks. More polished shoes and briefcases containing spreadsheets, pie charts and forward-looking market predictions. None of them were drinking coffee after all. He should have known. He hadn’t known, but as he watched them backslapping and laughing loudly, he wasn’t in the least bit surprised, and so, at the very same time, he had known all along.

Bruce turned around and spotted him. ‘Lou!’ he shouted across the room in his heavy Boston accent, which caused heads to turn, not at Bruce but at the handsome and quite pristine man that he was shouting at. ‘Lou Suffern! Good to see ya!’ He stood from the stool, walked towards Lou with his hand extended, and then, gripping Lou’s hand firmly, he pumped it up and down while thumping him enthusiastically on the back. ‘Let me introduce you to the guys. Guys, this is Lou, Lou Suffern, works at Patterson Developments. We worked together on the Manhattan Building I was telling you about and had a real wild experience one night together, wait till we tell you about it, you’ll never believe it. Lou, this is Derek from …’ And so Lou was lost in a sea of introductions, forgetting each name the second they were introduced and pushing the image of his wife and daughter out of his head each time he shook a hand that either squeezed his too hard, was too clammy, limp, or pumped his shoulder up and down. He tried to forget that he had forsaken his family for this. He tried to forget as they poo-poohed his order of coffee and instead filled him with beer, as they ignored his attempt to leave after one pint. Then after the second. And after the third. Tired of a discussion each time a round came around, he let them change his order to a Jack Daniel’s, and as his mobile phone rang he also let their adolescent jeers convince him not to answer. And then, after all that, they needed to convince him no more. He was there with them for the long haul, with his phone on silent and vibrating every ten minutes with a call from Ruth. He knew at this point that Ruth would understand; if she didn’t then she was an extremely unreasonable person.

There was a girl catching his eye across the bar; there was another whisky and Coke on the counter. All sense and reason had gone outside with the smokers, and it was shivering outside, half thinking of hailing a taxi, the other half looking around for someone to take it home and love it. And then, too cold and frustrated, sense turned on reason and resorted to fisticuffs outside the bar, while Lou turned his back and took sole care of his ambition.