Augusto nodded, warily and wearily both at the same time.
Then the door handle fell off, the door burst open, the desk was thrown across the room and three men dived on Steve.
As soon as I had the opportunity that day I made my call.
He answered.
‘Okay,’ I said, my voice still trembling from the shock. ‘I’ll meet you again.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
We had arranged to meet the following day in Starbucks at the end of my block. I couldn’t meet him on the day of the office incident, I would rather not have seen anybody or anything, apart from Mr Pan and my bed, that day, but word had reached my mother, via on-the-hour-every-hour news bulletins, and she was frantic with worry. Father was up the walls. Mum had sent a messenger into the court with word that her daughter’s office had been held at gunpoint and Father had demanded a recess in a controversial high-profile case. He had broken every speed limit for the first time in his life to make it home to Mum and they’d sat around the kitchen table together eating apple pie and drinking tea, crying and hugging and reminiscing on the little Lucy stories they loved to regale so much, bringing my soul to life as if I had been shot in the office that day.
Okay, I lied.
I’m not sure how Father felt about it – the underlying feeling was probably that I deserved it for landing such a lowly job with standard people – but I was in no mood to learn his thoughts on the matter. I’d refused to visit, insisting I was fine, but even I knew this time that I was lying and so Riley had landed on my doorstep unscheduled.
‘Your chariot awaits,’ he said as soon as I’d answered the door.
‘Riley, I’m fine,’ I said but it didn’t sound credible and I knew it.
‘You’re not fine,’ he said. ‘You look like crap.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Just get your things and come with me. We’re going to my place. Mum’s meeting us there.’
I groaned. ‘Please, I’ve had a rough day as it is.’
‘Don’t speak about her like that,’ he said, serious for a change, which made me feel bad. ‘She’s worried about you. It’s been on the news all day.’
‘Fine,’ I said. ‘Wait here.’
I closed the door and tried to gather my things but I couldn’t think, my mind was numb, it wouldn’t work. In the end I gathered myself and grabbed my coat. When I stepped out into the corridor my neighbour whose name I’d forgotten was talking with Riley. He was leaning in towards her, oblivious to my presence, so I cleared my throat, a long loud, phlegmy sound that echoed in the corridor. That got his attention. He looked at me, annoyed by my interruption.
‘Hi, Lucy,’ she said.
‘How’s your mother?’
‘Not good,’ she said, deep frown lines appearing between her eyebrows.
‘Have you been in to see her?’
‘No.’
‘Oh. Well, if you decide to, remember I’m here to … you know.’
She nodded her thanks.
‘Your neighbour seems nice,’ Riley said once we were in his car.
‘She’s not your type.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean? I don’t have a type.’
‘Yes, you do. The blonde vacuous type.’
‘That’s not true,’ he said. ‘I go for brunettes too.’
We laughed.
‘Did she mention her baby to you?’
‘No.’
‘That’s interesting.’
‘Are you trying to put me off her? Because if you are, telling me that she has a baby won’t work. I once dated a woman with two kids.’
‘Ha. So you are interested in her.’
‘Maybe a little.’
I found that weird. We sat in silence and I started thinking about Steve pointing a gun at my face. I didn’t want to know what Riley was thinking about.
‘Where’s her mother?’
‘In hospital. I don’t know which one and I don’t know what’s wrong with her. But it’s serious.’
‘Why hasn’t she seen her?’
‘Because she says she won’t leave her baby behind.’
‘Have you offered to babysit?’
‘Yes.’
‘That’s nice of you.’
‘I’m not all bad.’
‘I don’t think any part of you is bad,’ he said, looking at me. I wouldn’t meet his eye so he looked back at the road. ‘Why doesn’t she bring the baby to the hospital with her? I don’t understand.’
I shrugged.
‘You do know, come on, tell me.’
‘I don’t.’ I looked out the window.
‘How old is the baby?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Come on, Lucy.’
‘I honestly don’t know. She puts it in a buggy.’
He looked at me. ‘It.’
‘Little boys and girls look the same to me. Until they’re ten I haven’t a clue what sex they are.’
Riley laughed. ‘Does her mother not approve of her being a single mother? Is that what it is?’
‘Something like that,’ I said and concentrated on the world passing by and not on the gun I kept seeing in my face.
Riley lived two kilometres from the city centre in Ringsend, an inner suburb in Dublin, where he occupied a penthouse that overlooked Boland’s Mills on Grand Canal Dock.
‘Lucy,’ my mum said, with eyes big and worried, as soon as I walked in the door. I kept my arms behind my back as she squeezed me tight.
‘Don’t worry, Mum, I wasn’t even in the office,’ I said out of nowhere. ‘I had to run an errand and missed all the fun.’
‘Really?’ she asked, her face filling with relief.
Riley was staring at me, which was making me uncomfortable; he’d been acting very strangely the past few days, less like the brother I knew and loved and more like a person who knew I was lying.
‘Anyway, I brought you this.’ I removed my hands from behind my back and gave her a doormat that I’d swiped from outside the door of Riley’s neighbour. It said Hi, I’m Mat and looked good as new.
Mum laughed. ‘Oh Lucy, you’re so funny, thank you so much.’
‘Lucy,’ Riley said angrily.
‘Oh, don’t be silly, Riley, it was no trouble at all. It wasn’t expensive.’ I patted him on the back and moved into the rest of the apartment. ‘Is Ray here?’ Ray was Riley’s flatmate and was a doctor; they were never at home at the same time as they both worked opposite hours. Whenever he was home Mum flirted unashamedly with him, though she did ask me once before if Ray was Riley’s boyfriend. It was wishful thinking on her part for a trendy homosexual son who would never replace her with another woman.
‘He’s working,’ Riley explained.
‘Honestly, do you two never get to spend any quality time together?’ I asked, trying not to laugh, and Riley actually looked like he wanted to do a double-leg takedown and send me to the ground just like he did when we were younger. I quickly changed the subject, ‘What’s the smell?’
‘Pakistani food,’ mum said giddily. ‘We didn’t know what you wanted so we ordered half the menu.’ Mum got excited about being in her handsome bachelor son’s apartment where she got to do exotic things like eat Pakistani food, watch Top Gear and operate a remote-control fire that changed colour. It was a long way to a Pakistani restaurant from their house and Father wouldn’t be remotely interested in making the journey with her or watching anything other than CNN. We opened a bottle of wine and sat down at a glass table, by floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the river. Everything was reflective and shiny, shimmering in the moonlight.
‘So,’ Mum said and I could tell from her tone that she meant a serious probing conversation was about to begin.
‘How are the wedding-vow renewal plans going?’ I asked first.
‘Oh …’ She forgot what she was going to ask me and perked up. ‘There’s so much I have to talk to you about. I’m trying to choose a venue.’ And I listened to her for the next
twenty minutes talking about things that I never knew a person ever needed to consider when it came to four walls and a ceiling because the alternatives of no ceiling and/or three walls or less were apparently too overwhelmingly enticing.
‘How many people are going?’ I asked when I heard some of the venues she was thinking of.
‘So far there’s four hundred and twenty.’
‘What?’ I almost choked on my wine.
‘Oh, it’s mostly your father’s colleagues,’ she said. ‘Given his position it’s difficult to invite some and not others. People get very offended.’ And feeling as if she’d spoken out of turn, she corrected herself. ‘And rightly so.’
‘So don’t invite any of them,’ I said.
‘Oh, Lucy,’ she smiled at me, ‘I can’t do that.’
My phone started ringing, and Don Lockwood’s name flashed on the screen. Before I had a chance to control my facial muscles, I took on the characteristics of a giddy child.
Mum raised her eyebrows at Riley.
‘Excuse me, I’ll just take this outside.’
I stepped out onto the balcony. It was a wraparound so I moved away from their eyeline and earshot.
‘Hello?’
‘So, did you get fired today?’
‘Not quite. Not yet anyway. But it turned out the guy didn’t know who Tom was. Thanks for the tip all the same.’
He laughed lightly. ‘Same thing happened in Spain. Tom’s a mystery. Don’t worry. It could have been worse. You could have been in the office where that poor guy went ballistic.’
I paused. I immediately thought it was a trap but then my better judgement overrode it – how on earth could he have known, he didn’t even know my real name, couldn’t possibly have known that I even worked there.
‘Hello?’ he asked, worried. ‘Are you still there?’
‘Yes,’ I said quietly.
‘Oh, good. I thought I’d said something wrong.’
‘No, you didn’t, it’s just that … well, that was my office.’
‘Are you serious?’
‘Yes. Unfortunately.’
‘Jesus. Are you okay?’
‘Better than he is, anyway.’
‘Did you see the guy?’
‘Sausage,’ I said, staring across the river at Boland’s Mills.
‘Excuse me?’
‘I nicknamed him Sausage. He was the softest man in the building and he pointed a gun right at my head.’
‘Shit,’ he said. ‘Are you okay, did he hurt you?’
‘I’m fine.’ But I wasn’t fine and he knew it but I couldn’t see him and I didn’t know him so it didn’t matter and I kept talking. ‘It was only a water pistol, you know, we found out afterwards when they’d … got him down on the ground. It was his son’s. He’d taken it that morning and told his wife he was going to get his job back. Jesus, a fucking water pistol made me question my whole life.’
‘Of course it would. I mean, you didn’t know, did you?’ he said gently. ‘And had he pulled the trigger you could have had very frizzy hair.’
I laughed, threw my head back and laughed.
‘Oh God. There was me hoping I’d get fired, and he gave up his life to get his job back.’
‘I wouldn’t say his life, it was hardly a deadly weapon, though I haven’t seen you with frizzy hair. I haven’t seen you at all. Have you got hair?’
I laughed. ‘Brown hair.’
‘Hmm, another piece of the puzzle.’
‘So tell me about your day, Don.’
‘I can’t beat yours, that’s for sure. Let me take you for a drink, I bet you could do with one,’ he said gently. ‘Then I can tell you all about my day face to face.’
I was quiet.
‘We’ll meet somewhere crowded, somewhere familiar, you choose where, bring ten friends with you if you want, ten men, big men with muscles. I’m not into big men by the way, or any men, I’d rather you not bring them at all but if I said that first you’d think I was planning to kidnap you. Which I’m not.’ He sighed. ‘Smooth, aren’t I?’
I smiled. ‘Thank you, but I can’t. My brother and my mother are holding me hostage.’
‘You’ve had a day of it. Another time then. This weekend? You’ll see there’s more to me than just a beautiful left ear.’
I started laughing. ‘Don, you sound like a really nice guy—’
‘Uh-oh.’
‘But frankly, I’m a mess.’
‘Of course you are, anyone would be after the day you’ve had.’
‘No, not just because of today, I mean generally, I’m a mess.’ I rubbed my face tiredly, realising contrary to my own popular opinion that I genuinely was a mess. ‘I spend more time telling a wrong number things I don’t even tell my family.’
He laughed lightly and it felt like his breath whistled down the phone to my ear. I shuddered. I felt as though he was standing right beside me.
‘That’s got to be a good sign, hasn’t it?’ He livened up. ‘Come on, if it turns out I’m a big fat ugly thing that you never want to see again then you can leave and I’ll never bother you again. Or if it turns out that you’re a big fat ugly thing, you’ll have nothing to worry about because I’ll never want to see you again. Or maybe you’re looking for a big fat ugly thing and in that case there’s no point in meeting me because I’m not.’
‘I can’t, Don, I’m sorry.’
‘I can’t believe you’re breaking up with me and I don’t even know your name.’
‘I told you, it’s Gertrude.’
‘Gertrude,’ he said, a little defeated. ‘Right, well, just remember you called me first.’
‘It was a wrong number,’ I laughed.
‘Okay then,’ he said finally. ‘I’ll leave you alone. I’m glad you’re okay.’
‘Thanks, Don. Goodbye.’
We ended the call and I leaned on the rail and looked out as the reflection from all the apartments’ lights shimmered in the black water. My phone beeped.
–A parting gift.
I scrolled down.
A pair of beautiful blue eyes stared back at me. I studied them until I almost imagined them blink.
When I went back in to Mum and Riley they were kind enough not to ask any questions about the phone call but while Riley went to get the car keys to drop me home, Mum took a moment and I sensed a special chat.
‘Lucy, I didn’t get the opportunity to talk with you after you left lunch last week.’
‘I know, I’m sorry I left so hastily,’ I said. ‘The food was lovely, I just remembered I had to meet somebody.’
She frowned. ‘Really? Because I felt that it was because I signed the documents for the appointment with your life.’
‘No, it wasn’t,’ I interrupted. ‘It really wasn’t. I can’t remember what it was but it was, you know, important. I’d stupidly double-booked, you know how forgetful I am sometimes.’
‘Oh. I was sure you were angry with me.’ She studied me. ‘It’s okay if you tell me you were angry at me.’
What was she talking about? Silchesters didn’t reveal such things.
‘Of course not. You were just looking out for me.’
‘Yes,’ she said relieved. ‘I was. But I didn’t know what to do for a very long time. I didn’t sign the paperwork for weeks, I thought if there was something wrong you could maybe come to me and talk about it. Even though I know Edith is so good at helping you with things that maybe you don’t want to tell your mummy.’ She smiled shyly and cleared her throat.
Awkward, awkward, horrible moment. I think she was waiting for me to disagree but I wasn’t sure, so I didn’t say anything. Where was my ability to lie when I needed it?
‘Eventually I talked it over with your father and I decided to sign it.’
‘He told you to sign it?’ I asked as gently as I could but felt the anger building inside me. What would he know about my life? He’d never asked me one question about myself, never shown the slightest bit of interest in—
> ‘No, actually,’ Mum broke in on my thoughts. ‘He said it was all a load of nonsense but that made me realise that I didn’t agree with him. I don’t think it’s all a load of nonsense. I think, what harm could it do? You know? If my life wanted to meet with me, I think I’d be rather excited,’ she smiled. ‘Something exciting like that happening, it must be wonderful.’
I was impressed by her acting against Father’s instructions and intrigued and surprised by her desire to meet with her life. I would have thought it would be the last thing she’d want to do. What would People say?
‘But mostly I was worried, that it was my fault too. I’m your mother and if there is something wrong with you well then—’
‘There’s nothing wrong with me, Mum.’
‘Of course there isn’t, I phrased it wrongly, I’m sorry. I meant—’
‘I know what you meant,’ I said quietly, ‘and it’s not your fault. If there was anything wrong with me, that is, it wouldn’t be your fault. You haven’t done anything wrong.’
‘Thank you, Lucy.’ She looked a decade younger then and it had never occurred to me until that moment that she would be feeling guilty about the state of my life. I thought that was solely my job.
‘So,’ she perked up again. ‘Did you meet with her?’
‘It’s a him actually, and I met him last week.’
‘Him?’
‘I was surprised too.’
‘Is he handsome?’ Mum giggled.
‘Mum, that’s disgusting, he’s my life.’
‘Of course.’ She tried to hide her smile but I could see her secretly hoping for wedding bells. Any man would do as a son-in-law, or perhaps she was hoping for a match for Riley.
‘He’s not handsome at all, he’s ugly actually.’ I pictured him with his clammy skin, bad breath and snivelling in his creased suit. ‘But anyway it’s fine, we’re fine. I don’t think he wants to meet again.’
Mum frowned again. ‘Are you sure?’ Then she left me for a moment and came back with a bag filled with envelopes with the life spirals imprinted on the front, all in my name and addressed to her home. ‘We received one in the post every day last week. And again yesterday morning.’
‘Oh,’ I said. ‘He must have forgotten my address. No wonder I didn’t receive them.’ I shook my head and laughed. ‘Maybe Life’s one big problem is disorganisation.’
The Time of My Life Page 11
