Cecelia Ahern - The Time of My Life

‘I think I should stay here, Lucy.’

‘OK, that’s no problem,’ I said calmly. ‘I’ll just be at my friend Melanie’s house if you need me.’

‘Ah yes, Melanie, who’s annoyed at you leaving everything so early all of the time.’ He messed around on his iPad again. ‘The same Melanie who said straight after you left the restaur ant the other day, quote, “There’s something up with her, I can’t wait to get her on her own to find out what,” unquote.’ He looked pleased as punch. I was horrified. Time alone was not what I needed with Melanie right now and I wasn’t going to go back to Riley’s to stay with him and Mum.

‘You can sleep on the couch,’ I said, defeated, then climbed over the back of the couch to get to my bed.

He slept on the couch with Mr Pan, covered by a spare dusty blanket that I dug out from the top of the wardrobe while he shone the torch inside for me, all the time tutting. Not out loud, but I could hear it in my head, a constant rhythmic tut-tut-tut-tut like the grandfather clock we had in the echoey hall when I was a child that used to scare me and keep me awake at night until I stuffed a pillow in its pendulum and then blamed it on Riley. He snored so loudly that for the first time in a long time, my life kept me awake all night. Remembering the grandfather clock trick, I threw a pillow at him somewhere around two a.m. but I missed and ended up sending Mr Pan into a fit. Four minutes past eleven was the last time I saw on the clock before I fell asleep and was woken at six by him taking a shower, then he sneaked out and arrived back shortly afterwards, clattering the keys down on the counter and banging around and making enough noise to wake the building. I knew he was trying to disturb me so I deliberately kept my eyes closed at least ten minutes longer than I actually wanted. Finally the smell stirred me. He was sitting at the counter eating an omelette. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, his hair was wet and slicked back. He looked different. He looked clean.

‘Good morning,’ he said.

‘Wow. Your breath doesn’t smell bad any more.’

He looked insulted. ‘Whatever,’ he said, going back to reading the paper. ‘Your words can’t hurt me. I got you coffee and the crossword.’

I was taken aback, genuinely touched. ‘Thanks.’

‘And I bought a bulb for your bathroom light. You can put it in yourself though.’

‘Thank you.’

‘And that omelette is still hot.’

On the counter was a ham, cheese and red pepper omelette.

‘Thanks so much,’ I smiled. ‘That’s really thoughtful of you.’

‘No problem.’

We sat in silence together, eating, listening to a man and a woman on breakfast television hop from soap gossip to current affairs and then to a recent study into teenage acne. I didn’t replace the bulb; it would have taken too much effort and too much time in a morning that was already rushed after sitting down and eating a normal breakfast. I left the door ajar and took a shower, all the time watching the door to make sure my life wasn’t a perv. I got dressed in the bathroom. When I came out, he was ready with his rucksack and his crinkled suit. I had been surprisingly comfortable with him but all of a sudden I smelled a rat. There was always a catch.

‘Well, I guess this is goodbye for today,’ I said hopefully.

‘I’m coming to work with you,’ he said.

I was nervous going into the office, obviously because I had to face everybody after Tuesday’s incident but mostly because I had Life with me. I was just hoping that security would rid me of at least one problem. I swiped my ID card and the barrier moved for me to pass. Life walked into the bar directly behind me and I heard him make a sound as if he’d been winded. I tried not to smile but failed miserably.

‘Hey,’ security called. They were vigilant at the best of times but after the episode with Steve they were on high alert.

I turned around and tried to look as apologetic as possible at Life. ‘Look, I’m going to be late, I have to run. I’ll catch up with you at lunchtime, okay?’

His mouth fell open and I turned around and hurried to the elevator, trying to blend in with the crowd as if I was being chased. As I was waiting I watched the security guard twice Life’s width make his way over to him as if he was going to bash him. Life reached into his rucksack and pulled out some paperwork. The security guard took it as though it were a piece of rotten fish and read through it. Then he looked at me, looked back to the paper, looked at my life, then gave the paper back to him and walked back to his desk. He pressed the button behind it and the barrier opened.

‘Thanks,’ Life called. The security guard waved him on. Life smiled smugly at me and we rode the stuffed elevator together in silence. The usual suspects were in the office before I got there, huddled together and quite obviously talking about me because as soon as I entered they hushed and looked up. All eyes immediately went to Life. Then back to me.

‘Hi, Lucy,’ Nosy said. ‘Is that your lawyer?’

‘Why, are you looking for one for the wedding?’ I answered cattily.

Graham didn’t laugh and that put me off a bit, he always laughed at my crap jokes. I wondered if that meant he wasn’t going to be a sex pest any more and that bothered me too. My response to Louise had been a cheap comeback, but in reality it was disguising the fact that I didn’t know what to say. I’d had a lot of time to think about how to introduce my life to people but beyond calling him Cosmo – which I guessed would create more questions than answers – I still couldn’t think of a story. I could think of a perfectly good lie. I could think of many perfectly good lies; he was a terminally ill patient whose final wish was to spend time with me, he was an out-of-town cousin, he was a college boy looking for some experience, he was a mentally ill friend on day release, he was a journalist writing an article on modern-day working women and chose me as his subject. All of these things I’m sure everybody would believe but Life would not approve of. I was trying to come up with the perfect lie that he would approve of, which was ironic because in the history of the entire world, I guessed there probably hadn’t been one of those yet and probably never ever would be. Edna saved me from the siege of looks, stares, and pending questions and accusations by calling me into the office for a session of the same, but at least with her it was one-on-one and I could take her on. As I made my way to her office, I smiled at the others, sweet and apologetic for having to part company with them. I turned to Life before I went in and under my breath said, ‘Are you going to wait out here?’

‘No, I’ll go in with you,’ he said, keeping his voice at a normal level, which stopped me from speaking any further.

I went into Edna’s office and sat down at the circular table she had by her window. She had a fake white rose in a tall slim vase, and a copy of Ulysses on the shelf behind her desk; two of the things on my list that always annoyed me about her because I despised fake flowers and guessed she had probably never read Ulysses in her life but liked how having it on her shelf made her look. She looked at my life.

‘Hello,’ she said in a who are you kind of way.

‘Ms Larson, my name is…’ he looked at me and I saw his lips twitch as he fought a smile, ‘Cosmo Brown. I have some paperwork here for you which details how I’m allowed to be with Lucy Silchester at all times, and includes confidentiality agreements which have been signed by me and have been stamped and notarised by a recognised notary. You can trust that anything I learn about the company in this conversation will not go any further but anything that is discussed with Lucy regarding her personal life will be well within my rights to discuss as I so wish.’