Cecelia Ahern - The Gift

“Oh, they must have gotten lost in the mail,” Lou said, “we’ll send theirs again.”

“But it’s tomorrow, Lou.”

“What?” He frowned and squinted his eyes to concentrate on the calendar on Alison’s desk.

“Yes, his birthday’s tomorrow,” she said, sounding slightly panicked. “They won’t get the invites if you send them out now. I just wanted to make sure that it would be okay for everyone just to turn up without an invite. It’s only a family party, anyway. We could have a guest list or something.”

“Tomorrow,” Lou’s mind was working overtime. He knew he had double-booked tomorrow night, but now the office party wasn’t just a party. It was a meeting with Mr. Patterson. “Things have changed, Marcia. Tomorrow is my office party, and I really have to — ”

“You missed dinner the other night, Lou. Daddy was hurt enough at that. If you miss his seventieth…” She went silent.

“Okay, fine.” He rubbed his eyes, feeling his adrenaline shoot up again. “I’ll be there.”

“Yes, you will. I might just bring a few things to — ”

“It’s all under control,” he said, interrupting her firmly.

“What have you got planned, Lou?” Marcia asked nervously.

“What have I got planned?” Lou faked a laugh. “Oh, well, come on, Marcia, we want it to be a surprise for everyone.”

“Do you know what’s happening?”

“Do I know what’s happening? Are you worried about my organizational skills?”

“I’m worried that you’ve repeated every single one of my questions just to give yourself more time to think,” she said.

“Of course I know what’s going on; you think I’d just leave it up to Alison to do alone?” He winked at Alison, who looked horrified. “She’s never even met Dad,” he said, speaking Marcia’s insecurities aloud.

“Exactly, Lou. This Alison seems like a nice girl, but she doesn’t really know Dad. I’ve been calling her to help, but she hasn’t been very forthcoming. I just want Dad to have the time of his life.”

“He will, Marcia; he will.” Lou’s stomach turned uneasily. “We’ll all have fun, I promise.”

HE HANDED THE PHONE BACK to Alison, his smile gone. “It’s all under control, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“The party,” he said firmly. “My dad’s party.”

“Lou, I’ve been trying to ask you questions about it all we — ”

“Is it all under control? Because if it’s not, you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”

“Absolutely.” Alison smiled nervously. “The place you picked is very, erm, cool, shall we say, and they have their own events-management team. I told you about this already,” she said quickly, “a few times this week. I’d also left some food and music options on your desk, but when you didn’t choose any, I had to decide then myse — ”

“Okay, Alison, a note for the future: when I ask if it’s all under control, I only want a yes or a no,” he said firmly. “I don’t have time for questions and memos, really; all I need to know is if you can do it or not. If you can’t, then that’s fine, but I need to know. Okay?”

She nodded quickly.

“Great.” He clapped his hands and hopped off the desk. “Now I’d better get to this meeting.”

“Here.” She handed him his files. “And congratulations on those two deals yesterday; everyone is talking about them.”

“They are?”

“Yes,” she said, wide-eyed. “Some people are saying you’ll get Cliff’s job.”

That was like music to Lou’s ears, but he played it down. “Now, Alison, let’s not jump the gun. We’re all wishing a speedy recovery for Cliff.”

“Of course we are, but…anyway” — she smiled — “we can talk more at the party tomorrow?”

“Of course we will.” He smiled back, and it was only as she threw him a loaded look that he really understood what she had meant. He hated himself for the flutter of excitement that rushed through him.

“Morning,” Gabe suddenly interrupted them, placing a package on the desk.

Lou jumped.

Gabe looked at him, amused.

“Gabe, can I have a word with you, please?” Lou said, once he’d gathered himself.

They walked into his office and closed the door behind them. “Can I have those…the container back, please. I was very tired and emotional this morning, and I don’t know what got into me. Of course I believe in the herbal-remedy thingies.”

Gabe didn’t respond. He continued laying out envelopes and packages on Lou’s desk while Lou looked on with hope on his face.

Lou tried again. “I heard this morning that Cliff’s not coming back.” He kept his voice down and tried to hide his excitement. “He’s totally fried.”

“Ah, the poor man who had the breakdown,” Gabe said, still flipping through the mail.

“Yes,” Lou almost squealed with excitement. “Don’t tell anyone I told you.”

“That Cliff’s not coming back?”

“Yes, that and…you know” — he looked around — “other things. Maybe a promotion. A nice big pay raise.” He grinned, then got serious. “Problem is, Mr. Patterson wants to talk to me tomorrow at the party, and it just so happens to be my dad’s birthday.”

“Ah, this is the need for the pills. Well, you can’t have them.”

At that, Gabe left Lou’s office and immediately continued pushing the cart down the hall. Lou quickly followed, yapping at his heels like a Jack Russell after a postman.

“Ah, come on, I’ll pay you whatever you want for them. How much?”

“I don’t want anything.”

“Okay, then you probably want to keep them for yourself, I get it. At least tell me where I can get more?”

“You can’t get them anywhere. I threw them away. You were right about them; they’re not right. Psychologically. And who knows about the physical side effects? Maybe they were a scientific experiment that found their way out of a lab. Besides, they served their purpose: you learned something very valuable from the experience, and that’s that you want to spend more time at home. Shouldn’t you just take that and be done with it?”

“What did you do to them?” Lou panicked, ignoring everything that Gabe had just said. “Where did you put them?”

“In the trash.”

“Well, get them for me. Go and get them back,” Lou said angrily. “Come on, hurry, Gabe.” He prodded Gabe in the back.

“They’re gone, Lou. I opened the container and emptied the pills into the trash bins outside, and considering what you deposited inside it last night, I’d steer clear.”

Lou grabbed him by the arm and led him to the elevators. “Show me.”

ONCE OUTSIDE, GABE POINTED THE yellow bin out to Lou, large and filthy. Lou charged over. Looking inside, he could see the container sitting on top, so close he could touch it. Beside it, the pile of pills lay among a greenish-brown ooze of some sort. The smell was dire; he held his nose and tried not to retch. The pills were embedded in whatever that substance was, and his heart sank. He took off his suit jacket and threw it at Gabe to catch. He rolled up his shirtsleeves and prepared to shove his hands in the foul-smelling ooze. He paused before going in.

“If I can’t get these pills, where can I get more?” he asked again.

“Nowhere,” Gabe responded, standing by the building’s back door and watching him, his arms folded. “They don’t make them anymore.”

“What?” Lou spun around. “Well, who made them? I’ll pay them to make more. Shit. Maybe I can wash these.” He stepped closer and leaned in. The smell made him retch. “What the hell is that?” He gagged again and had to step away from the bin. “Damn it.” Lou kicked the bin and then regretted it when the pain hit.