Cecelia Ahern - The Gift

Once he reached the warmth above, Lou was back in his comfort zone. The security guard looked up as Lou emerged from the emergency exit.

“There’s something wrong with the elevators,” Lou called out to him as he approached the elevator bank, not enough time now for him to get to a pharmacy and back for the conference call. He’d have to go straight up, feeling like this, head hot and mushy, with Gabe’s ridiculous words ringing in his ears.

“That’s the first I’ve heard of it.” The security guard made his way over to Lou. He leaned over and pressed the call button, which lit up immediately. The elevator doors opened.

He looked at Lou oddly.

“Oh. Never mind. Thanks.” Lou got back in the elevator and made his way up to the fourteenth floor. He leaned his head against the mirror and closed his eyes, dreamed of being at home in bed with Ruth cozied up beside him, wrapping her arm and leg around him as she used to do while she slept.

When the elevator pinged on the fourteenth floor and the doors slid apart, Lou opened his eyes and screamed with fright.

Gabe stood directly before him, looking solemn, his nose almost touching the doors. He rattled the container of pills in Lou’s face.

“SHIT! GABE!”

“You forgot these.”

“I didn’t forget them.”

“They’ll get rid of that headache for you.”

Lou snatched the container of pills from Gabe’s hand and stuffed them deep into his trouser pocket.

“Enjoy.” Gabe smiled with satisfaction.

“I told you, I don’t do drugs.” Lou kept his voice low, even though he knew they were alone on the floor.

“And I told you they’re not drugs. Think of them as an herbal remedy.”

“A remedy for what, exactly?”

“For your problems, of which there are many. I believe I listed them for you already.”

“Says you, who’s sleeping on the floor of a bloody basement stockroom,” Lou hissed. “How’s about you take a pill and go about fixing your own life? Or is that what got you in this mess in the first place? You know, I’m getting tired of your judging me, Gabe, when I’m up here and you’re the one down there.”

Gabe’s expression looked curious in response, which made Lou feel guilty. “Sorry,” Lou sighed.

Gabe simply nodded.

Lou examined the pills as his head pounded, heavier now. “Why should I trust you?”

“Think of it as a gift.” Gabe repeated the words Lou had spoken only days before, bringing chills down Lou Suffern’s spine.

ALONE IN HIS OFFICE, LOU took the pills from his pocket and placed them on his desk. He laid his head down and finally closed his eyes.

“Christ, you’re a mess,” he heard a voice say close to his ear, and he jumped up.

“Alfred,” he said, spotting his nemesis. He rubbed his eyes. “What time is it?”

“Seven twenty-five. Don’t worry, you haven’t missed your meeting. Thanks to me.” Alfred smirked, running his nicotine-stained fingers along Lou’s desk, his one touch enough to tarnish everything and annoy Lou. The term grubby little mitts applied here.

“Hey, what are these?” Alfred picked up the pills and popped open the lid.

“Give them to me.” Lou reached out for them, but Alfred pulled away. He emptied a few into his open, clammy palm.

“Alfred, give them to me,” Lou said sternly, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice as Alfred moved about the room waving the container in the air, teasing him with the same air as a school bully.

“Naughty, naughty, Lou, what are you up to?” Alfred asked in an accusing singsong that chilled Lou to the core.

Knowing that Alfred was already devising to use these against him, Lou thought fast.

“Looks like you’re concocting a story.” Alfred smiled. “I know when you’re bluffing; I’ve seen you in every meeting, remember? Don’t you trust me with the truth?”

Lou fought to keep his tone easy, almost joking, but he was deadly serious. “Honestly? Lately, no. I wouldn’t be surprised if you hatched a plan to use that little container against me.”

Alfred laughed. “Now, really. Is that any way to treat an old friend?”

Lou’s light tone faded. “I don’t know, Alfred, you tell me.”

They had a moment’s staring match. Then Alfred broke it.

“Something on your mind, Lou?”

“What do you think?”

“Look,” Alfred’s shoulders dropped, the bravado replaced by Alfred’s new humble act. “If this is about the meeting tonight, rest assured that I did not meddle with your appointments in any way. Talk to Melissa. With Tracey leaving and Alison taking over, a lot of stuff got lost in the mix.” He shrugged. “Though between you and me, Alison seems a little flaky.”

“Don’t blame it on Alison.” Lou folded his arms.

“Indeed,” Alfred smiled and nodded slowly to himself. “I forgot that you two have a thing.”

“We have no thing. For Christ’s sake, Alfred.”

“Right, sorry.” Alfred zipped his lips closed. “Ruth will never know, I promise.”

The very fact that he’d mentioned Ruth unnerved Lou. “What’s gotten into you?” Lou asked him, serious now. “Really, what’s up with you? Is it stress? Is it the crap you’re putting up your nose? What the hell is it? Are you worried about the changes — ”

“The changes.” Alfred snorted. “You make me sound like a menopausal woman.”

Lou stared at him.

“I’m fine, Lou,” he said slowly. “I’m the same as I’ve always been. It’s you who’s acting a little funny around here. Everyone’s talking about it, even Mr. Patterson. Maybe it’s these.” He shook the pills in Lou’s face, just as Gabe had done. “You’re acting irrationally, sweating in meetings, forgetting appointments. Not exactly a great replacement for Cliff, are you?”

“They’re headache pills.”

“I don’t see a label.”

“The kids scratched it off; now can you please stop mauling them and give them back?” Lou held an open hand out toward Alfred.

“Oh, headache pills. I see.” Alfred studied the container again. “Is that what they are? Because I thought I heard the homeless guy saying that they were herbal?”

Lou swallowed. “Were you spying on me, Alfred? Is that what you’re up to?”

“No.” Alfred laughed easily once again. “I wouldn’t do that. I’ll have some of these checked out for you, to make sure they’re nothing stronger than headache pills.” He took a pill, pocketed it, and handed back the container. “It’ll be nice to be able to find out a few things for myself since my friends are lying to me.”

“I know the feeling,” Lou agreed, glad to have the container back in his possession. “Like my finding out about the meeting you and Mr. Patterson had a few mornings ago and the lunch you had last Friday.”

Unusual for Alfred, he looked genuinely shocked.

“Oh,” Lou said softly, “you thought I didn’t know, didn’t you? Sorry about that. Well, you’d better get to dinner, or you’ll miss your appetizer. All work and no caviar makes Alfred a dull boy.” Then he led a suddenly silent Alfred to his door, opened it, and winked at him before closing it quietly in his face.

SEVEN THIRTY P.M. CAME AND went without Arthur Lynch appearing on the fifty-inch plasma TV in front of Lou at the boardroom table. Aware that at any moment he could be seen by whoever would be present at the meeting, Lou attempted to relax in his chair and tried not to sleep. At seven forty, Mr. Lynch’s secretary informed him that Mr. Lynch would be a few more minutes.

While waiting, the increasingly sleepy Lou pictured Alfred in the restaurant, brash as could be, the center of attention, loud and doing his best to entertain — stealing the glory, making or breaking a deal that Lou wouldn’t be associated with unless Alfred failed. In missing that — the most important meeting of the year — Lou was losing the biggest chance to prove himself to Mr. Patterson. Cliff’s job dangled before him day in and day out, like a carrot on a string. So did Cliff’s old office down the hall next to Mr. Patterson’s, its blinds open and vacant. It was a larger office with better light. It called to him. It had been six months since the memorable morning Cliff had had his breakdown — after weeks and weeks of unusual behavior. Lou had finally found Cliff crouched under his desk, his body trembling, his computer keyboard held tightly and close to his chest. Occasionally his fingers tapped away at the keys in a sort of panicked Morse code. They were coming to get him, he kept repeating, wide-eyed and terrified.