Cecelia Ahern - The Gift & Thanks for the Memories

She nodded quickly.

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

‘Here,’ she handed him his files. ‘And congratulations on those two deals yesterday, everyone is talking about it.’

‘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, ‘see you at the party tomorrow?’

‘Of course I will,’ he smiled back, and it was only as he was marching away and heading towards the meeting room that he really understood what she had meant.

When Lou entered the boardroom, all twelve around the table stood to applaud him, their big, white-toothed smiles beaming from ear to ear, not quite meeting their tired morning eyes, and with tiny chips evident on their stressed and in-dire-need-of-a-massage shoulders. This was what everybody he knew was faced with. Not enough hours of sleep; the inability to get away from work or work-related devices like laptops, PDAs and mobiles; distractions that each of their family members wanted to flush down the toilet. Of course they were happy for him, in a frazzled, too-much-access–to-electro-magneticenergy kind of way. They were all functioning to stay alive, to pay the mortgages, to do the presentations, to meet the quotas, to please the boss, to get in early enough to beat the traffic, hang around long enough in the evenings until it had gone. Everyone in that room was putting in all the hours under the sun trying to unload their work before Christmas, and, as they all did that, the pile of personal problems in their inboxes grew higher. That would all be dealt with over the Christmas break. Finally, time for festive family issues that had been sidelined all year.’ Twas the season for family folly.

The applause was led by a beaming Mr Patterson, and all joined in but Alfred, who was exceptionally slow to stand. While the others were on their feet, he was slowly pushing his chair back. When the others were clapping, he was adjusting his tie and fastening his gold buttons. He succeeded in clapping once before the applause died down, one single clap that sounded more like a balloon had burst.

Lou worked his way around the table, shaking hands, slapping backs, kissing cheeks. By the time he reached Alfred, his friend had already seated himself but offered Lou a limp clammy hand.

‘Ah, the man of the moment,’ Mr Patterson said happily, taking Lou’s hand warmly and placing his left hand firmly on Lou’s upper arm. He stood back and looked at Lou proudly, as a grandfather would his grandson on Communion Day, beaming with pride and admiration.

‘You and I will have a conversation after this,’ he said quietly as the others were still continuing their talk. ‘You know there’ll be changes after Christmas, that’s no secret around here,’ he said solemnly, maintaining respect for Cliff.

‘Yes,’ Lou nodded sagely, secretly loving being personally let in on the secret, despite the fact that everybody knew about it.

‘Well, we’ll talk, okay?’ Mr Patterson said firmly, and as the other conversations died down, he took his seat and the chat was ended.

Feeling like he was floating, Lou sat down and found it hard to keep up with the rest of the morning’s discussion. From the corner of his eye, Lou could see that Alfred had caught the end of Mr Patterson’s comment.

‘You look tired, Lou, were you out celebrating last night?’ a colleague asked.

‘I was up all night with my little girl. Vomiting bug. My wife had it too, so it was a busy night.’ He smiled, thinking of Lucy tucked in bed, her thick fringe hiding half her face.

Alfred laughed and his wheeze was loud in the room.

‘My son had that last week,’ Mr Patterson said, ignoring Alfred’s outburst. ‘It’s going around.’

‘It’s going around, all right,’ Alfred repeated, looking at Lou.

The aggression was emanating from Alfred in waves, almost like the heat visibly rising from a desert highway. It seeped from his soul, distorting the air around him, and Lou wondered if everybody could see it. Lou felt for him; he could see how lost and fearful he was.

‘It’s not just me you should be congratulating,’ Lou announced to the table, ‘Alfred was in on the New York deal too. And a fine job he did of it.’

‘Absolutely.’ Alfred brightened up, coming back to the room and fidgeting with his tie, which made Lou nervous. ‘It was nice of Lou to finally join me at the end, in time to see me wrap it all up.’

Everyone around the table laughed, but it hit Lou elsewhere; in a place that rather hurt. In that moment he was Aloysius again, eight years old on the local football team, taken off the field minutes before the final whistle of the football final because his own team-mate, jealous of Lou scoring more points than him, had landed a kick between his legs and sent him on his knees, gasping, red-faced, close to dizziness and vomit. Like Alfred’s comment, it wasn’t so much the kick to the groin that hurt as much as the person who’d delivered the blow and the reasoning behind it. He’d lain on the field, hands covering his groin, his face hot and sweaty, frustration seeping from his pores, while being crowded around by the rest of the team, who looked at him and wondered if he was faking it.

‘Yes, we have already commended Alfred,’ Mr Patterson said, not looking his way, ‘but two deals at once, Lou, how on earth did you manage it? We all know you’re a multi-tasker at the best of times, but what an extraordinary use of time management, and, of course, your negotiating skills.’

‘Yes, extraordinary,’ Alfred agreed, his tone playful, but underneath it there was venom. ‘Almost unbelievable. Perhaps unnatural. What was it Lou, speed?’

There were a few nervous laughs, a cough and then a silence. Mr Patterson broke the tension by getting the meeting started but the damage had already been done. Alfred had left something hanging in the air. A question replaced what had previously been admiration, a seed had been planted in each mind and, whether it was believed or not, each time Lou achieved anything or his name was mentioned in future, Alfred’s comment would be momentarily, perhaps subconsciously, entertained and that seed would grow, peep up from the dirty soil and then rear its ugly head.

After all his hard work, missing out on family occasions, running out of his home to reach the office, quick pecks on Ruth’s cheek for the sake of long handshakes with strangers at the office, he had finally had his moment. Two minutes of handshakes and applause. Followed by a seed of doubt.

‘You look happy,’ Gabe commented, placing a package on a desk nearby.

‘Gabe, my friend, I owe you big-time,’ Lou beamed as he left the meeting, just short of reaching out to hug him. He lowered his voice. ‘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 the surrounding desks while Lou looked on after him with hope on his face, like a dog awaiting his walkies.

‘It’s just that I think I’m going to need a lot more from where they came from,’ Lou winked. ‘You know?’

Gabe looked confused.

‘Cliff’s not coming back.’ Lou kept his voice down and tried to hide the excitement. ‘He’s totally fried.’

‘Ah, the poor man who had the breakdown,’ Gabe said, still placing items on desks.

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