Cecelia Ahern - The Gift & Thanks for the Memories

‘No, you’re back to one again,’ Gabe explained. ‘Fig roll?’

‘But Ruth,’ Lou ignored him. ‘She’ll wake up and I’ll be gone. She’ll be worried. Did I just vanish?’

‘She’ll wake up and you’ll be gone to work, just like always.’

He absorbed that information and calmed a little. ‘But it’s not right, it doesn’t make sense. We really need to discuss where you got them from.’

‘You’re right, we do,’ Gabe said seriously, taking the container from Lou and stuffing it into his pocket. ‘But not yet. It’s not time yet.’

‘What do you mean, it’s not time? What are you waiting for?’

‘I mean it’s almost eight thirty and you’ve got a meeting to get to before Alfred sweeps in and steals the limelight.’

At that, Lou’s coffee was placed carelessly on a shelf, between an extension lead and a pile of mouse traps, and he jumped to his feet, instantly forgetting about his serious concerns about the peculiar pills, and also forgetting to wonder how on earth Gabe knew about his eight-thirty meeting.

‘You’re right, I’d better go, but we’ll talk later.’

‘You can’t go looking like that,’ Gabe laughed, looking Lou’s filthy rumpled suit up and down. ‘And you smell of vomit. And cat urine. Believe me, I know, I’ve a fine nose for it by now.’

‘I’ll be okay.’ Lou looked at his watch while taking off his suit jacket at the same time. ‘I’ll grab a quick shower in my office and change into my spare suit.’

‘You can’t. I’m wearing it, remember?’

Lou looked over at Gabe then, and remembered how he’d provided him with his spare clothes the first day he had employed him. He’d bet Alison hadn’t replaced the clothes yet, she was too new to know to do that.

‘Shit! Shit, shit, shit!’ He paced the small room, biting his manicured fingernails, pulling and spitting, pulling and spitting.

‘Don’t worry, my cleaner will see to them,’ Gabe said with amusement, watching as the chewed nails fell to the cemented floor.

Lou ignored him, pacing some more. ‘Shops don’t open till nine, where the hell can I get a suit?’

‘Never fear, I think I have something here in my walk-in wardrobe,’ Gabe said, disappearing down the first aisle and reappearing with the new suit draped in plastic. ‘Like I said, you never know when a new suit will come in handy. It’s your size and all, fancy that. It’s almost like it was made for you.’ He winked at Lou. ‘May your outer dignity mirror an inner dignity of your soul,’ Gabe said, handing the suit over to him.

‘Eh yeah, sure. Thanks,’ Lou said uncertainly, quickly lifting it from Gabe’s outstretched hands.

In the empty staff elevator, Lou looked at his reflection in the mirror. He was unrecognisable from the man who’d woken up on the floor half an hour earlier. The suit that Gabe had given him, despite being an unknown designer – something he wasn’t used to – was surprisingly the best-fitting suit he had ever owned. With the blue of the shirt and tie against the navy jacket and trousers, Lou’s eyes were popping out, innocent and cherub-like.

Things were very good for Lou Suffern that day. He was back to his groomed, handsome best, his shoes polished to perfection by Gabe and back to how they used to dance along the pavements. The swing was back in his step, his left hand casually placed in his pocket, his right arm swinging loosely by his side in rhythm with his step and available to answer the phone and/or shake a hand at every possible moment. He was the man of the moment. After a phone call with his wife and Lucy, he was father of the year according to Lucy, and the odds of him being in with the chance to be husband of the year in the next decade or two were improving. He was happy, so happy, in fact, that he whistled and didn’t stop even when Alison delivered the news that his sister was on the line. He happily reached for the phone and propped his behind on the corner of Alison’s desk.

‘Marcia, good morning,’ he said cheerily.

‘Well, you’re in a good mood today. I know you’re busy, Lou, I won’t keep you long. I just wanted to let you know that we all got Dad’s birthday invitations, they were … very nice … very sophisticated … not what I would have chosen but … anyway, I’ve had a few people on the phone to say they haven’t received theirs yet.’

‘Oh, they must have got lost in the post,’ Lou said, ‘we’ll send them out some more.’

‘But it’s tomorrow, Lou.’

‘What?’ He frowned and squinted his eyes to concentrate on the calendar on the wall.

‘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.’

‘Don’t worry, just email us through the list again and we’ll have a guest list on the door. It’s all under control.’

‘I might just bring a few things to –’

‘It’s all under control,’ he said more firmly.

He watched his colleagues walk down the hall and into the boardroom, Alfred lagging behind in his slacks and blazer with big gold buttons as though he was about to captain a cruise-liner.

‘What’s happening at the party, Lou?’ Marcia asked nervously.

‘What’s happening?’ Lou laughed. ‘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 organisational skills?’

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

‘Of course I know what’s going on, you think I’d just leave it up to Alison to do alone?’ He laughed. ‘She’s never even met Dad,’ he said, echoing what he’d heard a few family members mumble.

‘Well, it’s important for someone in the family to be involved, Lou – this Alison seems like a nice girl but she doesn’t really know Dad, does she? I’ve been calling her to help out but she hasn’t been very forthcoming. I 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. Now, you know I won’t be there at the very beginning because I’ve got this office party. I have to be here for a little while but I’ll come straight over.’

‘I know, that’s perfectly understandable. Oh God, Lou, I just want Dad to be happy. He’s always busy making sure the rest of us are. I want him to finally relax and enjoy himself.’

‘Yeah,’ Lou swallowed, with the first hint of trepidation. ‘Me too. Okay, I’d better hurry, I’ve got to go to a meeting. I’ll see you all tomorrow, okay?’

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 standardised events management team. I told you about this already,’ she said quickly, ‘a few times during the week. I also left some options of food and music on your desk for you to decide on, and when you didn’t do that, I had to decide it 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 but politely. ‘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, we just look at doing something else. Okay?’