Cecelia Ahern - The Gift & Thanks for the Memories

Lou looked around at the table and smiled, and then turned his back. He discreetly removed each of Alfred’s fingers from his arm. ‘I said, it’s all been taken care of,’ Lou repeated.

‘You cancelled the conference call? I don’t get it.’ Alfred smiled nervously. ‘Let me in on it.’

‘No, no, it’s not cancelled. Don’t worry, Alfred, let’s pay our guests some attention now, shall we?’ Lou flashed his pearly whites and finally extricated himself from Alfred’s grip so he could move to his chair. ‘Now, gentlemen, what looks good on this menu? I can recommend the foie gras, I’ve had it here before, it’s a treat.’ He smiled at the team and immersed himself in the pleasure of deal-making.

At nine twenty p.m., after the visual conference call with Arthur Lynch, an exhausted yet exhilarated and triumphant Lou stood outside the window of The Saddle Room restaurant. He was wrapped up in his coat as the December wind picked up, his scarf tight around his neck, yet he didn’t feel the cold as he watched himself through the window, suave and sophisticated and holding everyone’s attention as he told a story. Everybody’s face was interested, all but Alfred, and after five minutes of his animated hand gestures and facial expressions, all the men started laughing. Lou could tell from his body movements that he was telling the story of how he and his colleagues had wandered into a gay bar in London instead of the lapdancing bar they had thought it was. Looking at himself telling the story, he decided then and there never to tell it again. He looked like a prat.

He felt a presence beside him, and he didn’t need to look around to know who it was.

‘You’re following me?’ he asked, still watching through the window.

‘Nah, just figured you’d come here,’ Gabe responded, shivering and stuffing his hands into his pockets. ‘How are you doing in there? Entertaining the crowd as usual, I see.’

‘What’s going on, Gabe?’

‘Busy man like you? You got what you wished for. Now you can do everything. Mind you, it’ll wear off by the morning so watch out for that.’

‘Which one of us is the real me?’

‘Neither of you, if you ask me.’

Lou looked at him then and frowned. ‘Enough of the deep insights, please. They don’t work on me.’

Gabe sighed. ‘Both of you are real. You both function as you always do. You’ll merge back into one and be as right as rain again.’

‘And who are you?’

Gabe rolled his eyes. ‘You’ve been watching too many movies. I’m Gabe. The same guy you dragged off the streets.’

‘What’s in these?’ Lou took the pills out of his pocket. ‘Are they dangerous?’

‘A little bit of insight. And that never killed anyone.’

‘But these things, you could really make some money from these. Who knows about them?’

‘All the right people – the people who made them – and don’t you go trying to make a fortune from them or you’ll have a few people to answer to.’

Lou backed off for the moment. ‘Gabe, you can’t just double me up and then expect me to accept it without question. This could have dire medical consequences for me, not to mention life-changing psychological reactions. And the rest of the world really needs to know about this, this is insane! We really need to sit down and talk about it.’

‘Sure we will.’ Gabe studied him. ‘And then, when you tell the world, you’ll either be locked up in a padded cell or become a freakshow act, and every day you can read about yourself in exactly the same amount of column inches as Dolly the cloned sheep. If I were you I’d just keep quiet about it all and make the best of a very fortunate situation. You’re very pale. Are you okay?’

Lou laughed hysterically. ‘No! I’m not okay. This is not normal, why are you behaving like this is normal?!’

Gabe just shrugged. ‘I’m used to it, I guess.’

‘Used to it?’ Lou gritted his teeth. ‘Well, where do I go now?’

‘Well, you’ve taken care of business at the office, and it looks like your other half is taking care of business here.’ Gabe smiled. ‘That would leave one special place for you to go.’

Lou thought about that and then slowly a smile crawled onto his face and light entered his eyes as he finally understood Gabe for the first time that evening. ‘Okay, let’s go.’

‘What?’ Gabe seemed taken aback. ‘Let’s go where?’

‘The pub. First drink is on me. Christ, the look on your face! Why, where else were you expecting me to go?’

‘ Home , Lou.’

‘Home?’ Lou scrunched up his face. ‘Why would I do that?’ He turned back to watch himself at the dinner table, launching into yet another story. ‘Oh, that’s the one about the time I was stranded in Boston airport. There was this woman on the same flight as me …’ He smiled, turning around to Gabe to tell the story, but Gabe was gone.

‘Suit yourself,’ Lou mumbled. He watched himself for a little bit longer, in shock and unsure whether he was really experiencing this night. He definitely deserved a pint, and if the other half of him was heading home after the dinner, that meant he could stay out all night and nobody would notice – nobody, that was, but the person he was with. Happy days.

19. Lou Meets Lou

A triumphant Lou rolled up to his home, gratified by the sound of the gravel beneath his wheels and the sight of his electronic gates closing behind him. The dinner meeting had been a success: he had commanded the conversation, had done some of the best convincing, negotiating and entertaining that he’d ever done. They’d laughed at his jokes, all his best ones, they’d hung on his every word. All gentlemen had left the table in agreement and content. He’d shared a final drink with an equally jubilant Alfred before driving home.

The lights in the downstairs rooms were all out, but upstairs, despite this late hour, all were on, bright enough to help land a plane.

He stepped inside, into the blackness. Usually, Ruth left the entrance-hall lamp on, and he felt around the walls for the lights. There was an ominous smell.

‘Hello?’ he called. His voice echoed three flights up to the skylight in the roof.

The house was a mess, not the usual tidiness that greeted him when he came home. Toys were scattered around the floor. He tutted.

‘Hello?’ He made his way upstairs. ‘Ruth?’

He waited for her shushing to break the silence, but it didn’t.

Instead, once he reached the landing, Ruth ran from Lucy’s bedroom, dashing by him, hand over her mouth, eyes wide and bulging. She hurried into their bathroom and closed the door. This was followed by the sound of her vomiting.

Down the hall, Lucy started to cry and call for her mother.

Lou stood in the middle of the landing, looking from one room to the other, frozen on the spot, unsure what to do.

‘Go to her, Lou,’ Ruth just about managed to say, before another encounter with the toilet bowl.

He was hesitant and Lucy’s cries got louder.

‘Lou!’ Ruth yelled, more urgently this time.

He jumped, startled by her tone, and made his way to Lucy’s room. He slowly pushed open the door, peeking inside, feeling like an intruder as he entered a world he had rarely ventured into before. Dora the Explorer welcomed him inside. The smell of vomit was pungent in his daughter’s room. Her bed was empty, but her sheets and pink duvet unkempt from where she’d slept. He followed her sounds into the bathroom and found her on the tiles, bunny slippers on her feet and throwing up into the toilet. She was crying, weeping quietly as she did so. Spitting and crying, crying and spitting, her sounds echoing in the base of the toilet.

Lou stood there, looking around, briefcase still in hand, unsure of what to do. He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and covered his nose and mouth, to block the smell and to prevent the infection from spreading to him.