‘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.’
‘Whoa, whoa, whoa, come on, Marcia.’ Lou felt knocked for six. He had never been spoken to like that before and it had hit him, hurt him deeply. He swallowed hard. ‘I know that all those people shouldn’t have been stuck outside, but I fixed it. Where is all this coming from?’
Marcia laughed bitterly. ‘What you saw outside isn’t even the half of it,’ she sniffed. ‘Surprise,’ she said dully, as the elevators opened and as the sight of the room greeted him.
Looking out, Lou’s heart immediately sank, falling to his stomach where the acid began to burn it away. Around the room there were blackjack tables, roulette, scantily clad cocktail waitresses who paraded around with cocktails on trays. It was an impressive party, and one that Lou remembered being at when the building was opened, but he only realised now that it wasn’t for his seventy-year-old father. It wasn’t for his father, who hated celebrations for himself, who hated forcing friends and family to gather together just for him, whose idea of a good day out was alone fishing. A modest man, the very thought of a party embarrassed him, but the family had talked him into celebrating a birthday for the first time, a big occasion where his family and friends from all around the country would join in and celebrate with him. He hadn’t wanted it, but somewhere along the way he had warmed to it, and there he was, standing in the middle of a casino in his best suit, where the staff wore short skirts and red bow-ties, where the DJ played dance music and where a person needed €25 minimum to play on a casino table. In the centre of one table, a near-naked man was covered in cakes and fruit.
Standing together awkwardly at the side of the room were Lou’s family. His mother, with her hair freshly blow-dried, was wearing a new lilac trouser suit and a scarf tied neatly around her neck, her handbag draped over her shoulder, clasping it tight in both hands as she looked around uncertainly. His father stood with his remaining brother and sister – a nun and a priest – looking more lost in this environment than Lou had ever seen his father look. Each family member looked up at him and away again, freezing him out. The only person who smiled faintly at him was his father, who nodded and saluted him.
Lou looked around for Ruth. She stood on the far side of the room, making polite chat with the rest of the equally uncomfortable-looking partygoers. She caught his eye and her look was cold. There was an awkward tension in the room, and it was all Lou’s fault. He felt embarrassed, beyond ashamed. He wanted to make it up to them; he wanted to make it up to everybody.
‘Excuse me,’ Lou approached the man in the suit who was standing beside him looking over the crowd, ‘are you the person in charge?’
‘Yes, Jacob Morrison, manager.’ He held his hand out. ‘You’re Lou Suffern, we met at the opening night a few months ago. I recall it was a late one,’ he winked at him.
‘Yes, I remember,’ Lou replied, at the same time not remembering him at all. ‘I’m just wondering if you could help me with making some changes in here.’
‘Oh.’ Jacob looked taken aback. ‘I’m sure we’ll try to accommodate you in any way that we can. What were you thinking of?’
‘Chairs.’ Lou tried not to speak rudely. ‘This is my father’s seventieth, could we please get him and his guests some chairs?’
‘Oh,’ Jacob made a face, ‘I’m afraid this is a standing event only. We didn’t charge for –’
‘I’ll pay you for whatever, of course.’ Lou flashed his pearly whites. ‘As long as we can get those bums that aren’t already on wheelchairs on some seats.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Jacob began to leave when Lou called him back.
‘And the music,’ Lou said, ‘is there anything more traditional than this?’
‘Traditional?’ Jacob smiled questioningly.
‘Yes, traditional Irish music. For my seventy-year-old father.’ Lou spoke through gritted teeth. ‘Instead of this acid jazz funky house music that my seventy-year-old father isn’t so much into.’
‘I’ll see what we can do.’
The atmosphere between them was darkening.
‘And what about food? Did Alison arrange food? Apart from the near-naked man covered in cream that my mother is currently standing beside.’
‘Yes, of course. We have shepherd’s pies, lasagne, that kind of thing.’
Lou quietly celebrated.
‘You know, we discussed all of our concerns with Alison before,’ Jacob explained.
‘You did?’
‘Yes, sir, we don’t usually hold seventieth parties.’ He smiled, then it quickly faded. ‘It’s just that we have a standard set-up here, particularly for the Christmas period, and this is it.’ He gestured to the room proudly. ‘The casino theme is very successful for corporate eve
nts, that kind of thing,’ he explained.
‘I see. Well, it would have been nice to know that,’ Lou said politely.
‘You did sign off on it,’ Jacob assured him. ‘We have the paperwork explaining all of the details of the night. We made sure Alison had you sign the forms.’
‘Right.’ Lou swallowed and looked around the room. His fault. Of course. ‘Of course, it just obviously slipped my mind. Thank you.’
* * *
As Lou approached his family, they stepped away and separated themselves from him as though he were a bad smell. His father, of course, didn’t move with them but greeted his middle child with a smile.
‘Dad, happy birthday,’ Lou said quietly, reaching his hand out to his father.
‘Thank you.’ His father smiled, taking his son’s hand. Despite all this, despite what Lou had done, his father still smiled.
‘Let me get you a Guinness,’ Lou said, turning around to look for the bar.
‘Oh, they don’t have any.’
‘What?’
‘Beer, champagne, and some funny-looking green cocktail,’ his father said, sipping on his glass. ‘I’m on the water. Your mother’s happy, though, she likes champagne, though far from it she was reared,’ he laughed, trying to make light of the situation.
On hearing herself being mentioned, Lou’s mother turned around and threw Lou a look that withered him.
‘Ah now,’ his father said softly, ‘I can’t drink tonight anyway. I’m sailing with Quentin tomorrow in Howth,’ he said proudly. ‘He’s racing in the Brass Monkeys and he’s down a man, so yours truly is filling in.’ He thumbed himself in the chest.
‘You are not racing, Fred.’ Lou’s mother rolled her eyes. ‘You can barely stand upright on a windy day, never mind on a boat. It’s December, those waters are choppy.’
‘I’m seventy years old, I can do what I like.’
‘You’re seventy years old, you have to stop doing what you like, or you won’t see seventy-one,’ she snapped, and the family laughed, including Lou.
‘You’ll have to find someone else, dear.’ She looked at Quentin, whose face was crestfallen.
‘I’ll do it for you,’ Alexandra said to her husband, wrapping her arms around him, and Lou found himself having to look away, jealousy stirring.
‘You’ve never raced before,’ Quentin smiled. ‘No way.’
‘What time is the race?’ Lou asked.
Nobody answered.
‘Of course I can do it,’ Alexandra smiled. ‘Isn’t it just like normal? I’ll bring my bikini and I’ll let the rest of the crew bring the strawberries and champagne.’
The family laughed again.
‘What time is the race?’ Lou asked again.
‘Well, if she races in her bikini, then I’ll definitely let her take part,’ Quentin teased.
They all laughed again.
As though suddenly hearing his brother’s question, though still not looking him in the eye, Quentin responded, ‘Race starts at eleven a.m. Maybe I’ll give Stephen a quick call.’ He took his mobile out of his pocket.
‘I’ll do it,’ Lou said, and they all looked at him in shock.
‘I’ll do it,’ he repeated with a smile.
‘Maybe you could call Stephen first, love,’ Alexandra said gently.
‘Yes,’ Quentin responded, turning back to his phone. ‘Good idea. I’ll just go somewhere quiet.’ He brushed by Lou and left the room.
Lou felt the sting as the family turned away from him again and talked about places he’d never been, about people he’d never met. He stood by idly while they laughed at jokes he didn’t understand, inside jokes that tickled all but him. It was as though they were speaking a secret language, one that Lou was entirely unable to comprehend. Eventually he stopped bothering to ask the questions that were never answered, and eventually he stopped listening, realising nobody cared about that either. He was too detached from the family to start trying in one evening to check himself into a place where there was currently no vacancy.
24.
The Soul Catches Up
Lou’s father was beside him, looking around the room like a lost child, no doubt feeling nervous and embarrassed that everyone had come for him and secretly hoping that somebody else would announce it was their birthday too so the attention would be taken from him and shared with someone else.
‘Where’s Ruth?’ his father asked.
‘Em,’ Lou looked around for the hundredth time, unable to find her, ‘she’s just chatting to guests.’
‘Right. Nice view from up here.’ He nodded out the window. ‘City’s come a long way in my time.’
‘Yeah, I thought you’d like it,’ Lou said, glad he’d got one thing right.
‘So which one is your office?’ He looked across the river Liffey at the office buildings, which remained lit up at this hour.
‘That one there, directly opposite.’ Lou pointed. ‘Thirteen floors up, on the fourteenth floor.’
Lou’s father glanced at him, obviously thinking it peculiar, and for the first time Lou felt it too, could see how it could be perceived odd and confusing. This rattled him. He had always been so sure.
‘It’s the one with all the lights are on,’ Lou explained more simply. ‘Office party.’
‘Ah, so that’s where it is.’ His father nodded. ‘That’s where it all happens.’
‘Yes,’ Lou said proudly. ‘I just got a promotion tonight, Dad.’ He smiled. ‘I haven’t told anybody yet, it’s your night, of course,’ he backtracked.
‘A promotion?’ His father’s bushy eyebrows rose.
‘Yes.’
‘More work?’
‘Bigger office, better light,’ he joked. When his dad didn’t laugh he became serious. ‘Yes, more work. More hours.’
‘I see.’ His father was silent.
Anger rose within Lou. Congratulations wouldn’t have gone astray.
‘You’re happy there?’ his father asked casually, still looking out the glass, the party behind them visible in the reflection. ‘No point in working hard on something if you’re not, because at the end of the day that’s what it’s all about, isn’t it?’
Lou pondered that, both disappointed by the lack of praise and intrigued by his father’s thinking at the same time.
‘But you always told me to work hard,’ he said suddenly, feeling an anger he had never known was there. ‘You always taught us not to rest on our laurels for a second, if I recall the phrase exactly.’ He smiled, but it was tight and he felt tense.
‘I didn’t want you all to be lazy, by any means,’ his dad responded, and turned to look Lou in the eye suddenly. ‘In any aspect of your life, not just in your work. Any tightrope walker can walk in a straight line and hold a cane at the same time. It’s the balancing on the rope at those dizzying heights that they have to practise,’ he said simply.
A staff member, carrying a chair in her hand, broke the quiet tension. ‘Excuse me, who is this for?’ She looked around at the family. ‘My boss told me that someone in this party asked for a chair.’
‘Em, yes, I did,’ Lou laughed, angrily. ‘But I asked for chairs. Plural. For all the guests.’
‘Oh, well, we don’t have that amount of chairs on the premises,’ she apologised. ‘So who would like this chair?’
‘Your mother,’ Lou’s father said quickly, not wanting any fuss. ‘Let your mother sit down.’
‘No, I’m fine, Fred,’ Lou’s mother objected. ‘It’s your birthday, you have the chair.’
Lou closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He had paid twelve thousand euro for his family to fight over the use of a chair.
‘Also, the DJ said that the only traditional music he has is the Irish National Anthem. Would you like him to play it?’
‘What?’ Lou snapped.
‘It’s what he plays at the end of the night, but he has no other Irish songs with him,’ she apologised. ‘Shall I tell him to play it for you all now?’
‘N
o!’ Lou snapped. ‘That’s ludicrous. Tell him no.’
‘Can you please give him this?’ Marcia said politely, reaching into a cardboard box she had underneath the table. From it, party hats, streamers and banners overflowed. He even caught sight of a cake. She handed the waiter a collection of CDs. Their father’s favourite songs. She looked up at Lou briefly while handing them over. ‘In case you fucked up,’ she said, then looked away.
It was a short comment, small and delivered quietly, but it hit him harder than anything she’d said to him that evening. He’d thought he was the organised one, the one who knew how to throw a party, the one who knew to call in all the favours and throw the biggest bash. But while he was busy thinking he was all that, his family were busy preparing Plan B, in preparation for his failures. All in a cardboard box.
Suddenly the room cheered as Quentin stepped out of the elevator along with Gabe – whom Lou hadn’t known was invited – each appearing with a pile of chairs stacked up in their arms.
‘There are more on the way!’ Quentin announced to the crowd, and suddenly the atmosphere perked up as the familiar faces that had aged since Lou’s youth looked to one another with relief, slight pain and an innocent excitement.
‘Lou!’ Gabe’s face lit up when he saw him. ‘I’m so glad you came.’ He laid the chairs out for a few elderly people nearby and approached Lou, hand held out, leaving Lou confused as to whose party it was. Gabe leaned close to Lou’s ear. ‘Did you double up?’
‘What? No.’ Lou shook him off, frustrated.
‘Oh,’ Gabe said with surprise. ‘The last I saw of you, you and Alison were having a meeting in your office. I didn’t realise you left the work party.’
‘Yes, of course I did. Why do you have to assume the worst, that I had to take one of those pills to show up at my own father’s party?’ he feigned insult.
Cecelia Ahern 2-book Bundle Page 19
