Cecelia Ahern 2-book Bundle

by Cecelia Ahern

  The basement was lowly lit. At the end of the corridor a fluorescent strip of light on the blink flashed on and off, which didn’t help his headache and made him lose his footing a few times. There was the loud hum of machines around, the ceilings hadn’t been filled in and so all the electrics and wiring were revealed. The floor was cold and hard beneath his leather shoes and dustmites bounced up to cover his polished tips. As he moved along the narrow hallway, searching for the escape exit, he heard the sound of music drifting out from under the door at the end of a hallway that veered off to the right. ‘Driving Home for Christmas’ by Chris Rea. Along the hallway on the opposite side, he saw the green escape sign of a man running out a door, illuminated above a metal door. He looked from the exit, back to the room at the end of the hall where music and light seeped from under the door. He looked at his watch. He still had time to make his way to the pharmacy and – providing the elevators worked – back to his office in time for the conference call. Curiosity got the better of him, and so he made his way down the hall and drummed his knuckles against the door. The music was so loud he could barely hear his own knock, and so slowly he opened the door and tucked his head around the corner.

  The sight stole words from his mouth and ran off with them under its arm, cackling.

  Inside was a small stock room, the walls lined with metal shelves, from floor to ceiling filled with everything from light bulbs to toilet rolls. There were two aisles, both of them no more than ten feet in length, and it was the second aisle that caught Lou’s attention. Through the shelving units, light came from the ground. Walking closer to the aisle, he could see the familiar sleeping bag laid out from the wall, reaching down the aisle and stopping short of the shelving unit. On the sleeping bag was Gabe, reading a book, so engrossed that he didn’t look up as Lou approached. On the lower shelves, a row of candles were lit, the scented kind that were dotted around the bathrooms of the offices, and a small shadeless lamp sent out a small amount of orange light in the corner of the room. Gabe was wrapped up in the same dirty blanket that Lou recognised from Gabe’s days out on the pathway. A kettle was on a shelf and a plastic sandwich packet was half-empty beside him. His new suit hung from a shelf, still covered in plastic and never worn. The image of the immaculate suit hanging from the metal shelf of a small stock room reminded Lou of his grandmother’s parlour, something precious and saved for the big occasion that never came, or that came and was never recognised.

  Gabe looked up then and his book went flying from his hands, just missing a candle, as he sat up straight and alert.

  ‘Lou,’ he said, with fright.

  ‘Gabe,’ Lou said, and he didn’t feel the satisfaction he thought he should. The sight before him was sad. No wonder the man had been first at the office every morning and last there. This small store room piled high with shelves of miscellaneous junk had become Gabe’s home.

  ‘What’s the suit for?’ Lou asked, eyeing it up. It looked out of place in the dusty room. Everything was tired and used, left behind and forgotten, yet hanging from a wooden hanger was a clean, expensive suit. It didn’t fit in.

  ‘Oh, you never know when you’ll need a good suit,’ Gabe replied, watching Lou warily. ‘Are you going to tell?’ he asked, though he didn’t sound concerned, just interested.

  Lou looked back at him and felt pity. ‘Does Harry know you’re here?’

  Gabe shook his head.

  Lou thought about it. ‘I won’t say a word.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘You’ve been staying here all week?’

  Gabe nodded.

  ‘It’s cold in here.’

  ‘Yeah. Heat goes off down here when everyone leaves.’

  ‘I can get you a few blankets or, em, an electric heater or something, if you want,’ Lou said, feeling foolish as soon as the words were out.

  ‘Yeah, thanks, that would be good. Sit down.’ Gabe pointed to a crate that was on the bottom shelf. ‘Please.’

  Lou rolled up his sleeves as he reached for the crate, not wanting the dust and dirt to spoil his suit, and he slowly sat down.

  ‘Do you want a coffee? It’s black, I’m afraid, the latte machine isn’t working.’

  ‘No thanks. I just stepped out to get a few headache pills,’ Lou replied, missing the joke while looking around in distraction. ‘I appreciate you driving me home last night.’

  ‘You’re welcome.’

  ‘You handled the Porsche well.’ Lou studied him. ‘You driven one before?’

  ‘Yeah, sure, I have one out the back.’ Gabe rolled his eyes.

  ‘Yeah, sorry … how did you know where I lived?’

  ‘I guessed,’ Gabe said sarcastically, pouring himself a coffee. On Lou’s look he added, ‘Your house was the only one on the street with a bad taste in gates. Bad tasting gates at that. They had a bird on top. A bird?’ He looked at Lou as though the very thought of a metal bird caused a bad smell in the room, which it could very well have done had the scented candles not covered it.

  ‘It’s an eagle,’ Lou said defensively. ‘You know, last night I was …’ Lou began to apologise, or at least to explain his behaviour last night, then rethought it, not in the mood to have to explain himself to anybody, particularly to Gabe, who was sleeping on the floor of a basement stock room and still had the audacity to raise himself above Lou. ‘Why did you tell Ruth to let me sleep until ten?’

  Gabe fixed those blue eyes on him, and despite the fact Lou had a six-figure salary and a multi-million-euro house in one of the most affluent areas in Dublin and all Gabe had was this, he once again felt like the underdog, like he was being judged.

  ‘Figured you needed the rest,’ Gabe responded.

  ‘Who are you to decide that?’

  Gabe simply smiled.

  ‘What’s so funny?’

  ‘You don’t like me, do you, Lou?’

  Well, it was direct. It was to the point, no beating around the bush, and Lou appreciated that.

  ‘I wouldn’t say I don’t like you,’ he said.

  ‘You’re worried about my presence in this building,’ Gabe continued.

  ‘Worried? No. You can sleep where you like. This doesn’t bother me.’

  ‘That’s not what I mean. Do I threaten you, Lou?’

  Lou threw his head back and laughed. It was exaggerated and he knew it, but he didn’t care. It had the desired effect. It filled the room and echoed in the small concrete cell and open ceiling of revealed wires, and his very presence sounded larger than Gabe’s space. ‘Intimidated by you? Well, let’s see …’ He held his hands out to display the room Gabe was living in. ‘Do I really need to say any more?’ he said pompously.

  ‘Oh, I get it,’ Gabe smiled broadly, as though guessing the winning answer to a quiz. ‘I have fewer things than you. I forgot that meant something to you.’ He laughed lightly and clicked his fingers, leaving Lou feeling stupid.

  ‘Things aren’t important to me,’ Lou defended himself weakly. ‘I’m involved in lots of charities. I give things away all the time.’

  ‘Yes,’ Gabe nodded solemnly, ‘even your word.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘You don’t keep that either.’ He moved on quickly and started rooting in a shoe box on the second shelf. ‘Your head still at you?’

  Lou nodded and rubbed his eyes tiredly.

  ‘Here.’ Gabe stopped rooting and retrieved a small container of pills. ‘You always wonder how I get from place to place? Take one of these.’ He threw them across to Lou.

  Lou studied them. There was no label on the container.

  ‘What are they?’

  ‘They’re a little bit of magic,’ he laughed. ‘When taken, everything becomes clear.’

  ‘I don’t do drugs.’ Lou handed them back, placing them on the end of the sleeping bag.

  ‘They’re not drugs.’ Gabe rolled his eyes.

  ‘Then what’s in them?’

  ‘I’m not a pharmacist, just take them, all I k
now is that they work.’

  ‘No thanks.’ Lou stood and prepared to leave.

  ‘They’d help you a lot, you know, Lou.’

  ‘Who says I need help?’ Lou turned around. ‘You know what, Gabe, you asked me if I don’t like you. That’s not true, I don’t really mind you. I’m a busy man, I’m not much bothered by you, but this, this is what I don’t like about you, patronising statements like that. I’m fine, thank you very much. My life is fine. All I have is a headache, and that’s all. Okay?’

  Gabe simply nodded, and Lou turned around and made his way towards the door again.

  Gabe started again. ‘People like you are –’

  ‘Like what, Gabe?’ Lou turned around and snapped, his voice rising with each sentence. ‘People like me are what? Hard working? Like to provide for their families? Don’t sit on their arses on the ground all day waiting for hand-outs? People like me who help people like you, who go out of their way to give you a job and make your life better …’

  Had Lou waited to hear the end of Gabe’s sentence, he would have learned that Gabe wasn’t implying anything of the sort. Gabe was referring to people like Lou who were competitive. Ambitious people, with their eye on the prize instead of the task at hand. People who wanted to be the best for all the wrong reasons and who’d take almost any path to get to that place. Being the best was as equal as being in the middle, which was as equal as being the worst. All were merely a state of being. It was how a person felt in that state and why they were in that state that was the important thing.

  Gabe wanted to explain to Lou that people like him were constantly looking over their shoulders, always looking at what the next person was doing, comparing themselves, looking to achieve greater things, always wanting to be better. And the entire point of Gabe telling Lou Suffern about people like Lou Suffern, was to warn him that people who constantly looked over their shoulders bumped into things.

  Paths are so much clearer when people stop looking at what everyone else is doing and instead concentrate on themselves. Lou couldn’t afford to bump into things around about this point in the story. If he had, it would have surely ruined the ending, of which we’ve yet to get to. Yes, Lou had much to do.

  But Lou didn’t stick around to hear any of that. He left the store room/Gabe’s bedroom, shaking his head with disbelief at Gabe’s cheek as he walked back down the corridor with the dodgy fluorescent lighting that flashed from brightness to darkness. He found his way to the escape exit and ran up the stairs to the ground floor.

  The ground floor was immediately brown and warm and Lou was back in his comfort zone. The security guard looked up at him from his desk as Lou emerged from the emergency exit and frowned.

  ‘There’s something wrong with the elevators,’ Lou called out to him, not enough time now for him to get to a pharmacy and back in time for the conference call. He’d have to go straight up looking like this, feeling like this, head hot and mushy, with the ridiculous words of Gabe ringing in his ears.

  ‘That’s the first I’ve heard of it.’ The security guard made his way over to Lou. He leaned over and pressed the call button, which lit up immediately and the lift door opened.

  He looked at Lou oddly.

  ‘Oh. Never mind. Thanks.’ Lou got back in the lift and made his way up to the fourteenth floor. He leaned his head against the mirror and closed his eyes and dreamed of being at home in bed with Ruth, cosied up beside him, wrapping her arm and leg around him as she always did – or used to do – as she slept.

  When the elevator pinged on the fourteenth floor and the doors opened, Lou opened his eyes and jumped and screamed with fright.

  Gabe stood directly before him in the hall – looking solemn – his nose almost touching the doors as they slid open. He rattled the container of pills in Lou’s face.

  ‘SHIT! GABE!’

  ‘You forgot these.’

  ‘I didn’t forget them.’

  ‘They’ll get rid of that headache for you.’

  Lou snatched the container of pills from Gabe’s hand and stuffed them deep into his trouser pocket.

  ‘Enjoy.’ Gabe smiled with satisfaction.

  ‘I told you, I don’t do drugs.’ Lou kept his voice low, even though he knew he was alone on the floor.

  ‘And I told you they’re not drugs. Think of them as a herbal remedy.’

  ‘A remedy for what, exactly?’

  ‘For your problems, of which there are many. I believe I listed them out to you already.’

  ‘Says you, who’s sleeping on the floor of a bloody basement stock room,’ Lou hissed. ‘How’s about you take a pill and go about fixing your own life? Or is that what got you in this mess in the first place? You know, I’m getting tired of you judging me, Gabe, when I’m up here and you’re the one down there.’

  Gabe’s expression was curious at that statement, which made Lou feel guilty. ‘Sorry,’ he sighed.

  Gabe simply nodded.

  Lou examined the pills as his head pounded, heavier now. ‘Why should I trust you?’

  ‘Think of it as a gift.’ Gabe repeated the words Lou had spoken only days before.

  Along with it, Gabe’s gift brought chills down Lou Suffern’s spine.

  18.

  Granted

  Alone in his office, Lou took the pills from his pocket and placed them on his desk. He laid his head down and finally closed his eyes.

  ‘Christ, you’re a mess,’ he heard a voice say close to his ear and he jumped up.

  ‘Alfred,’ he rubbed his eyes, ‘what time is it?’

  ‘Seven twenty-five. Don’t worry, you haven’t missed your meeting. Thanks to me,’ he smirked, running his chubby, nicotine-stained, nail-bitten fingers along Lou’s desk, his one touch enough to tarnish everything and leave his dirty mark, which annoyed Lou. The term ‘grubby little mitts’ applied here.

  ‘Hey, what are these?’ Alfred picked up the pills and popped open the lid.

  ‘Give them to me.’ Lou reached out for them but Alfred pulled away. He emptied a few into his open clammy palm.

  ‘Alfred, give them to me,’ Lou said sternly, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice as Alfred moved about the room waving the container in the air, teasing him with the same air and issues of a school bully.

  ‘Naughty, naughty, Lou, what are you up to?’ Alfred asked in an accusing sing-song tone that chilled Lou to the core.

  Knowing that Alfred was most likely to try to use these against him, Lou thought fast.

  ‘Looks like you’re concocting a story,’ Alfred smiled. ‘I know it when you’re bluffing, I’ve seen you in every meeting, remember? Don’t you trust me with the truth?’

  Lou smiled and kept his tone easy, almost joking, but both were deadly serious. ‘Honestly? Lately, no. I wouldn’t be surprised if you hatched a plan to use that little container against me.’

  Alfred laughed. ‘Now, really. Is that any way to treat an old friend?’

  Lou’s smile faded. ‘I don’t know, Alfred, you tell me.’

  They had a moment’s staring match. Alfred broke it.

  ‘Something on your mind, Lou?’

  ‘What do you think?’

  ‘Look,’ Alfred’s shoulders dropped, the bravado act over with and the new humble Alfred act begun, ‘if this is about the meeting tonight, be rest assured that I did not meddle with your appointments in any way. Talk to Louise. With Tracey leaving and Alison taking over, a lot of stuff got lost in the mix,’ he shrugged, ‘though between you and me, Alison seems a little flakey.’

  ‘Don’t blame it on Alison.’ Lou folded his arms.

  ‘Indeed,’ Alfred smiled and nodded slowly to himself, ‘I forgot that you two have a thing.’

  ‘We have no thing. For Christ’s sake, Alfred.’

  ‘Right, sorry.’ Alfred zipped his lips closed. ‘Ruth will never know, I promise.’

  The very fact that he’d mentioned that unnerved Lou. ‘What’s gotten into you?’ Lou asked him, serious now.
‘What’s up with you? Is it stress? Is it the crap you’re putting up your nose? What the hell is up? Are you worried about the changes –’

  ‘The changes,’ Alfred snorted. ‘You make me sound like a menopausal woman.’

  Lou stared at him.

  ‘I’m fine, Lou,’ he said slowly. ‘I’m the same as I’ve always been. It’s you that’s acting a little funny around here. Everyone’s talking about it, even Mr Patterson. Maybe it’s these.’ He shook the pills in Lou’s face, just as Gabe had done.

  ‘They’re headache pills.’

  ‘I don’t see a label.’

  ‘The kids scratched it off, now can you please stop mauling them and give them back?’ Lou held an open hand out towards Alfred.

  ‘Oh, headache pills. I see.’ Alfred studied the container again. ‘Is that what they are? Because I thought I heard the homeless guy saying that they were herbal?’

  Lou swallowed. ‘Were you spying on me, Alfred? Is that what you’re up to?’

  ‘No,’ Alfred laughed easily, ‘I wouldn’t do that. I’ll have some of these checked out for you, to make sure they’re nothing stronger than headache pills.’ He took a pill, pocketed it, and handed back the container. ‘It’s nice to be able to find out a few things for myself when my friends are lying to me.’

  ‘I know the feeling,’ Lou agreed, glad to have the container back in his possession. ‘Like my finding out about the meeting you and Mr Patterson had a few mornings ago and the lunch you had last Friday.’

  Unusually for Alfred, he looked genuinely shocked.

  ‘Oh,’ Lou said softly, ‘you didn’t know that I knew, did you? Sorry about that. Well, you’d better get to dinner or you’ll miss your appetiser. All work and no caviar makes Alfred a dull boy.’ He led a silent Alfred to his door, opened it and winked at him before closing it quietly in his face.