Cecelia Ahern - The Gift & Thanks for the Memories

He turned around. ‘Ah, Mr Patterson, hello. Sorry.’ Lou was aware his voice was edgy but he needed to get out of there. He’d promised Ruth and so he pressed down on the elevator button quickly. ‘I’m in a bit of a rush, it’s my dad’s se—’

‘We won’t take long, I promise. Just a word.’ He felt Mr Patterson’s hand on his arm.

‘Okay.’ Lou turned around, biting down on his lip.

‘Well, I was rather hoping we could talk in my office, if you don’t mind,’ Mr Patterson smiled. ‘Are you okay, you look a little shaken up.’

‘I’m fine, I’m just, you know, in a rush.’ He allowed his boss to take him by the arm.

‘Of course you are,’ Mr Patterson laughed. ‘You always are.’ He led Lou down to his office and they sat down opposite one another on aged brown leather couches in the more informal part of Mr Patterson’s office. Lou’s forehead was sweating; he was aware that he could smell himself and hoped that Mr Patterson couldn’t too. He reached for the glass of water in front of him; his trembling hand brought it to his lips and Mr Patterson looked on while he gulped.

‘Would you like something stronger, Lou?’

‘No, thank you, Mr Patterson.’

‘Laurence, please.’ Mr Patterson shook his head again. ‘Honestly, Lou, you make me feel like a schoolteacher when you address me as such.’

‘Sorry, Mr Patter—’

‘Well, I’m going to have one, anyway.’ Mr Patterson stood up and made his way over to the drinks cabinet. He poured himself a brandy from a crystal decanter. ‘You sure you won’t have one?’ he offered again. ‘Rémy XO,’ he swirled it mid-air, tauntingly.

‘Okay, I will, thank you.’ Lou smiled and relaxed a little, his panic to get across the road to the party subsiding slightly.

‘Good.’ Mr Patterson smiled. ‘So, Lou, let’s talk about your future. How much time do you have?’

Lou took his first sip of the expensive brandy and he was brought back to the room, back to the present. He pulled his cuffs over his watch, taking away the distraction. He prepared for the big promotion, for his polished shoes to walk in Cliff’s footsteps – though not literally to the hospital he was currently housed in, but to the top office, with panoramic views of Dublin city. He took deep breaths and ignored the clock ticking away on the wall, trying to put his father’s party out of his head. It would all be worth it. They would all understand. They would all be too busy partying even to notice he wasn’t there.

‘I’ve all the time you need.’ Lou smiled nervously, ignoring the voice within him that shouted to be heard.

23. Surprise!

When Lou arrived at the venue for his father’s party – late – he was sweating profusely as though he’d broken out in a high fever, despite the December chill that had the power to run right through to a body’s bones; squeezing into the joints and whistling around the body. He was breathless and nauseous at the same time. Relieved and exhilarated. He was exhausted, all on its own.

He’d decided to host his father’s party in the famous building that Gabe had admired the very first day they’d met. Shaped like a sail, it was lit up in blue, their award-winning building, which was sure to impress his father and relatives from around the country. Directly in front of the building, the Viking longship’s tall mast was decorated in Christmas lights.

When he reached the door, Marcia was outside giving out to a large doorman dressed in black. Bundled in coats, hats and scarves, a crowd of twenty or so people were standing around, stamping their feet on the pavement in order to stay warm.

‘Hi Marcia,’ Lou said happily, trying to break up the argument. He was bursting to tell her about the promotion but he had to bite his lip; he had to find Ruth first to tell her.

Marcia turned to face him, her eyes red and blotchy, her mascara smudged. ‘Lou,’ she spat, the anger not disappearing but instead intensifying and being aimed at him.

His stomach did somersaults, which was rare. He never usually cared what his sister thought of him, but tonight he was caring more than usual.

‘What’s wrong?’

She left the crowd behind and came firing at him. ‘I’ve been trying to call you for an hour.’

‘I was at my work party, I told you that. What’s wrong?’

‘ You are what’s wrong,’ she said shakily, her voice somewhere between anger and deep sadness. She inhaled deeply, then slowly exhaled. ‘It’s Daddy’s birthday, and for his sake I won’t ruin it any more than it already has been, by causing an argument, so all I have to say is would you please tell this brute to let our family in. Our family –’ she raised her voice to that quivering screech, ‘who have travelled from all over the country to share in,’ her voice went weepy again, ‘in Dad’s special day. But instead of being with his family, he’s up there in a practically empty room, while everybody is out here being turned away. Five people have already gone home.’

‘What? What?’ Lou’s heart leapt into his throat. He rushed to the doormen. ‘Hi guys, Lou Suffern.’ He held out his hand and the doormen the two men shook it with all the life of a dead kipper. ‘I’m organising the party tonight.’ Behind him, Marcia huffed and mumbled. ‘What seems to be the problem here?’ He looked around at the crowd, instantly recognising all the faces. All were close family friends whose homes he’d grown up visiting, all were over the age of sixty, some the same age as his father, some older. They stood on the freezing cold pavement in December, elderly couples hanging on to one another, trembling with the cold, some leaning on crutches, one man in a wheelchair. In their hands were sparkly bags and cards, bottles of wine and champagne, gifts that had been wrapped neatly and thoughtfully for the big night. And now there they were on the pavement, being refused entry to their lifelong friend’s party.

‘No invites, no entry,’ one doorman explained.

One couple flagged down a taxi and slowly made their way to where it had pulled over, while Marcia chased after them, trying to convince them to stay.

Lou laughed angrily. ‘Gentlemen, do you think that these people are gatecrashing ?’ He lowered his voice. ‘Come on, look at them. My father is celebrating his seventieth birthday, these are his friends. There was obviously a mistake with the invitations. I arranged with my secretary Alison for there to be a guest list.’

‘These people aren’t on the list. This building has strict guidelines as to who comes in and who –’

‘Fuck the guidelines,’ he said aggressively through gritted teeth, so that those behind him couldn’t hear. ‘It is my father’s birthday and these are his guests,’ he said firmly, angry now. ‘And as the person who is paying for this party, and as the man who got this building off the ground, I’m telling you to let these people in.’

Moments later the group were all shuffling inside, waiting in the grand lobby for the elevators up to the top floor, while trying to get the warmth into their old bodies.

‘You can relax now, Marcia, it’s all sorted out now.’ Lou tried to make amends with his sister as they stood together and alone in the elevator. Marcia had refused to look at him or even speak to him for the last ten minutes while they’d managed to get everyone into the lift and up to the penthouse.

‘Marcia, come on,’ he laughed lightly. ‘Don’t be like this.’

‘Lou,’ the look she gave him was enough to stop his smile and make him swallow hard, ‘I know you think I’m dramatic and I’m controlling and I’m annoying, and whatever else you think about me that I’m sure I don’t want to know about, but I’m not being dramatic now. I’m hurt. Not for me, but for Mummy and Daddy.’ Her eyes filled again and her voice, which was always so gentle and understanding, changed tone. ‘Of all the selfish things you’ve done, this is right up there as the most selfish of them all. I have sat back and bitten my tongue while you’ve taken Mummy and Daddy for granted, while you’ve screwed around on your wife, while you’ve jeered and teased your brother, flirted with his wife, ignored your kids, and while you’ve taunted me on every possible occasion. I have been – we all have been – as patient as pie with you, Lou, but not any more. You don’t deserve any of us. Tonight you have really done it for me. You have hurt Mummy and Daddy and you are no longer my brother.’