Time of My Life (9 page)
‘It must be personal,’ Louise said to no one in particular.
‘What must be?’
‘Edna. She must be having a personal issue.’
‘Or else she’s dancing around naked and lip-syncing to “Footloose” on her iPod,’ I suggested, and Graham stared at the windows with hope, planning new offers in his head.
Louise’s phone rang and her perky phone voice replaced her dull tones but she quickly lost her enthusiasm and we could tell there was something wrong immediately. We all stopped working and stared at her. She hung up slowly, eyes wide and looked at us. ‘Every other department has just finished their meetings. Bryan Kelly is gone.’
There was a long hushed silence.
‘That’s what you get for being full of shit,’ I said quietly.
Graham was the only one who got the joke. Even though I wouldn’t sleep with him, I appreciated that he still took time to laugh at my jokes and for that, he commanded my respect.
‘It’s Brian Murphy that’s full of shit,’ Louise said, frustrated.
I pursed my lips.
‘Who was that on the phone?’ Sausage asked.
‘Brian Murphy,’ Louise said.
That was it, we all couldn’t help but laugh and we were joined together for the first time ever in a moment’s laughter during a horrible awkward time in their lives. I say ‘their’ because I didn’t feel it, I didn’t feel worried or anxious or afraid because I didn’t feel like I had anything to lose. A redundancy package would have been quite nice, and quite the bonus after my last job dismissal. Then Edna’s door finally opened and she looked out with red-rimmed bloodshot eyes. She looked around at all of us in what could only be described as a lost apologetic way and for a moment I searched myself to see what I was feeling but the only thing I felt was completely indifferent. She cleared her throat. Then:
‘Steve. Can I see you, please?’
We all looked on in horror as Steve made his way in. There was no more laughter. Watching Steve leave the office afterwards was like watching an ex-boyfriend move out. He packed away his things quietly with tears in his eyes: his photograph of his family, his mini basketball and basketball hoop, his mug that said
Steve likes his coffee black with one sugar,
and his Tupperware of lasagne that his wife had made him for his lunch. And then after handshakes from Twitch and me, a back pat from Graham, a hug from Mary and a kiss on the cheek from Louise, he was gone. An empty desk just like he had never been there. We worked in silence after that. Edna didn’t open her blinds for the rest of the day and I didn’t take any more cigarette breaks, partly out of respect for Steve but mostly because they were his cigarettes that I used to smoke. Though I wondered how long it would take any of them to think about Steve’s desk and how the lighting was so much better there.
I left them at lunchtime as I always did, this time to bring my car back to the garage for the second week running. Once there I was handed another letter from Life and I returned to the office in an even worse mood.
I cursed to high heaven as I sat down and then sprang back up again.
‘What’s wrong?’ Graham asked, looking amused.
‘Who put this here?’ I lifted the envelope and waved it around the room. ‘Who put this on my desk?’
There was silence. I looked at Louise at reception, she shrugged. ‘We were all in the canteen for lunch, nobody saw, but I got one too. It’s addressed to you.’ She came towards me with the envelope.
‘I got one too,’ Mary said, handing it to Louise to pass to me.
‘There was one on my desk too,’ Twitch said.
‘I was going to give it to you later,’ Graham said suggestively, taking an envelope out of his inside pocket.
‘What do they say?’ Louise asked, collecting the envelopes and bringing them to me.
‘It’s private.’
‘What kind of paper is that? It looks nice.’
‘They’re too expensive for invitations,’ I snapped.
She backed off, uninterested.
Including the letter I’d found in my apartment this morning, and the letter he’d sent to the garage, he had written to me seven times in one day. I waited until the usual busy work hum had started up before I rang the number on the letter. I expected American Pie to answer. She didn’t. Instead it was Him.
He didn’t even wait for me to say hello before saying, ‘Have I finally got your attention?
‘Yes, you have,’ I said, trying to hold my temper.
‘It’s been a week,’ he said. ‘I haven’t heard from you.’
‘I’ve been busy.’
‘Busy with what?’
‘Just doing things, my God, do I have to explain every little detail?’
He was silent.
‘Fine.’ I planned to kill him with my monotony. ‘On Monday I got up and went to work. I brought my car to the garage. I went for dinner with a friend. I went to bed. On Tuesday I went to work, I collected my car, I went home, and I went to bed. On Wednesday I went to work, I went home, I went to bed. On Thursday I went to work, I went to the supermarket, I went home, I went to a funeral and then I went to bed. On Friday I went to work, then I went to my brother’s house and babysat the kids for the weekend. On Sunday I went home. I watched
An American in Paris
and wondered for the hundredth time if I’m the only person who wants Milo Roberts and Jerry Mulligan to get together? That little French girl just played him like a fool. This morning I woke up and then I came to work. Happy now?’
‘How very exciting. Do you think that continuing to live like a robot is actually going to make me go away?’
‘I don’t think that I’ve been living like a robot but regardless of what I do, quite obviously you’re not going away. I brought my car to the garage today and Keith the mechanic handed me a letter from you, which he had
already opened
and in no uncertain terms suggested that sex with him would sort me out. Thank you for that.’
‘At least I’m helping you meet men.’
‘I don’t need help meeting men.’
‘Perhaps in keeping them then.’ That was low and I think even he knew that. ‘So when can we meet again?’
I sighed. ‘Look, I just don’t think this whole thing is going to work out with you and me. It might be good for other people but not for me. I really like my space, I like to do things without someone breathing down my neck all the time so I think the mature adult thing to do here is for you to go your way and I’ll go mine.’ I was impressed by my tone, by my firmness. Hearing my words,
I
wanted to separate from me, which weird as that is, was essentially what I was trying to do. I was trying to break up with myself.
He was silent again.
‘It’s not as if every moment together is a bag of laughs either. We don’t even enjoy each other’s company. I mean, really, we should just walk away.’
He still didn’t speak.
‘Hello, are you still there?’
‘Just about.’
‘I’m not allowed personal calls while at work so I should go now.’
‘Do you like baseball, Lucy?’
I rolled my eyes. ‘I don’t know anything about it.’
‘Have you ever heard of a curveball?’
‘Yeah, it’s what the guys with the ball throw at the guys with the bats.’
‘Succinct as always. More specifically, it’s a type of pitch thrown in a way that imparts forward spin to the ball causing it to dive in a downward path.’
‘Sounds tricky,’ I humoured him.
‘It is. That’s why they do it. It catches the batsman out.’
‘That’s okay, Robin always rescues him. I think they’ve a thing going on.’
‘You don’t take me seriously.’
‘Because you’re talking about an American sport of which I know nothing of and I’m in the middle of my work and I’m seriously concerned about your mental health.’
‘I’m going to throw you one,’ he said simply, his voice playful now.
‘You’re going to …’ I looked around the room. ‘Are you in here? You’re not allowed play with a ball indoors, you should know that.’
Silence.
‘Hello? Hello?’
My life had hung up on me.
Mere moments later Edna’s door opened again. Her eyes were back to normal but she looked tired. ‘Ah Lucy, there you are, could I see you for a moment, please?’
Mouse’s eyes widened even more. Cock gave me a sad look; nobody left for him to pester.
‘Yes, sure.’
I felt all eyes on me as I went into her office.
‘Sit down, there’s nothing to worry about.’
‘Thank you.’ I sat in front of her, perched on the edge of the desk.
‘Before I start, this came for you.’ She handed me another envelope.
I rolled my eyes and took it from her.
‘My sister got one of those before,’ she said, studying me.
‘Really?’
‘Yes. She left her husband, and she’s living in New York now.’ Her face changed as she talked about her family but she still looked like a fish. ‘He was a bastard. She’s really happy.’
‘Good for her. Did she do an interview with a magazine, by any chance?’
Edna frowned. ‘I don’t think so, why?’
‘Never mind.’
‘If there’s anything I can do to make you … happier here, then you’ll let me know, won’t you?’
I frowned. ‘Yes, of course. I’m really fine, Edna, thank you. I think this was just a computer error or something.’
‘Right.’ She changed the subject. ‘Well, the reason I called you in is because Augusto Fernández, head honcho from the German office, is visiting us tomorrow and I was wondering if you would be able to take the lead and introduce him to the gang in here. Maybe we can do our best to make him feel welcome and let him know how hard we’re all working in here.’
I was confused.
‘He doesn’t speak very good English,’ she said.
‘Oh. For a minute there I thought you wanted me to sleep with him.’
It could have gone either way. Instead she threw her head back and laughed heartily. ‘Oh Lucy, you’re the perfect medicine; I needed that, thank you. Now I know you like to do your own thing at lunchtime but I’ll have to ask you to stay in here just in case he drops by. Michael O’Connor is showing him around the building, of course, but when he gets here it would be nice to welcome him to our little group. Tell him what everybody does and how hard we’re all working. You know?’ She was giving me the eye.
Please don’t let any of us get fired
. I liked that she cared.
‘No problem. I get it.’
‘How’s everyone doing out there?’
‘Like they’ve just lost a friend.’
Edna sighed and I heard and felt the stress she must have been under. I left the office and they were all gathered around Mouse’s desk, like penguins huddled together for warmth afraid to drop their eggs, all looking at me in anticipation, pale faces worried that I’d been fired.
‘Does anyone have a spare cardboard box?’
There was a chorus of distressed tones.
‘Just joking, but nice to know you care,’ I smiled and they relaxed but were a little annoyed. But then something Edna had said hit me and I suddenly tensed up. I knocked on the door, went back inside. ‘Edna,’ I said rather urgently.
She looked up from her paperwork.
‘Augusto, he’s from …’
‘Head office, in Germany. Don’t tell the others, I don’t want them to worry any more than they already are.’
Relief. ‘Of course. It’s just not a typical German name,’ I smiled. I went to close the door.
‘Sorry, Lucy, I understand what you mean now,’ she called out to me. ‘He’s Spanish.’
I smiled but inside I wept. I was worried, I was very worried, because apart from having only just enough Spanish to order a round of Slippery Nipples and to ask for a limbo bar, I had very little other vocabulary in my head, and though they didn’t know it yet the team were relying on my schmoozing to get them through the next elimination process. It was only then when I sat down and saw the letters still lying on my desk that the conversation made sense.
Him and his analogies; Life had thrown me a curveball.
‘He did the Inca Trail last week, did you see that?’ my friend Jamie said to the table.
We were in The Wine Bistro in the city, our usual haunt for catching up, and being served by the usual gay waiter with the fake French accent. There were seven of the usual suspects gathered around for Lisa’s birthday. There used to be eight before Blake had started all his travelling but he might as well have been sitting at the head of the table that night, exactly opposite from me, from the way they were all going on. They’d been talking about Blake for the past twenty minutes, ever since main course had arrived, and I sensed it could go on for another twenty so I had stuffed my mouth with as much salad as I could. Silchesters didn’t talk while eating so apart from the occasional nod of interest and raised eyebrow I didn’t need to take part. They talked about last night’s episode where he’d travelled around India; I’d watched it and hoped Jenna had gotten Delhi belly. They talked about things he’d said, things he’d seen, things he’d worn and then they lovingly ripped him apart about his smarmy final comments and that cheesy look down the camera lens followed by the wink – that was personally my favourite part, but I didn’t tell them that.
‘What did you think of it, Lucy?’ Adam asked, killing their discussion and directing it all at me.
I took a while to chew then swallowed some lettuce leaves. ‘I didn’t see it.’ I shoved more into my mouth.
‘Oooh,’ Chantelle joked, ‘she’s so cold.’
I shrugged.
‘Have you ever seen it?’ Lisa asked.
I shook my head. ‘I’m not sure if I have the station. I haven’t checked.’
‘Everyone has the station,’ Adam said.
‘Oh. Whoops.’ I smiled.
‘You were supposed to go on that trip together, weren’t you?’ Adam asked again, leaning on the table, pushing all his energy towards me.
Adam pretended to joke but even if it was almost three years ago, his best friend being dumped still seriously aggrieved him. If I hadn’t been the target of his aggression my admiration for his loyalty would have been far greater. I’m not quite sure how Blake had managed to create such steadfast devotion in Adam but whatever he said, or whatever crocodile tears he’d spilled with him, it had worked and I was public enemy number one. I knew it and Adam secretly wanted me to know it, but it seemed that nobody else knew it. Again paranoia was taking over but I followed it like it was my guide.
I nodded at Adam. ‘Yeah, we planned to go for his thirtieth.’
‘And you made him go on his own, you cruel bitch,’ Lisa said, and they laughed.
‘With a film crew,’ Melanie added, kind of in my defence.
‘And a spray tanner, by the looks of it,’ Jamie added and they laughed.
And Jenna. The bitch. From Australia.
I just shrugged again. ‘That’s what you get when you give me fried eggs instead of poached. A girl can’t be dealing with shoddy breakfast in bed.’
They laughed, but Adam didn’t. He glared at me in defence of his friend. I shovelled more salad into my mouth and looked at Melanie’s plate to see what I could steal. As usual it was full of food. I speared a baby tomato, that’d give me at least twenty seconds of chewing. The tomato burst in my mouth and the seeds fired down my throat and made me choke. Not a cool reaction. Melanie handed me a glass of water.
‘Well, he didn’t do too badly, we did end up in Vegas for his thirtieth,’ Adam said and gave me a long knowing look that just killed me. The lads looked at each other with cheeky expressions, instantly sharing a weekend of craziness that would never be revealed. My heart twisted as I pictured Blake on a bar with a stripper licking Pernod off his abs and popping olives from his belly button. It wasn’t a party trick of his, just a mind trick of my own.
My phone beeped. Don Lockwood’s name flashed up onto my screen. Since our phone conversation over a week ago I’d tried to think of some kind of comeback for the Aslan song but failed. As soon as I opened the text a photo popped up. It was a porcelain figure of a haggard old woman with an eye patch and beneath it his text read:
–Saw this and thought of you
.
I zoned out of the conversation and immediately texted back.
–
It’s rude to take my photo without permission. Would have given you my winning smile.
–
You have no teeth, remember?
I smiled cheesily, and took a photo of my teeth. I pressed send.
Melanie gave me a curious smile.
‘Who are you texting?’
‘No one, I was just seeing if I’ve lettuce stuck in my teeth,’ I said, easily. Too easily. I was getting good at this.
‘You could have asked me. Seriously, who is it?’
‘Just a wrong number.’ It wasn’t a lie. I reached into my bag and put twenty euro on the table. ‘Guys, it was swell but I have to go now.’
Melanie groaned. ‘But we hardly got to talk.’
‘We’ve done nothing but talk,’ I laughed, standing up.
‘But not about you.’
‘What do you want to know?’ I took my coat from the gay waiter with the fake French accent who’d pointed at the coat rack and said, ‘
Zees one?
’
Melanie was a bit taken aback by being put on the spot. ‘Well, I just wanted to hear what’s going on with you but you’re halfway out the door so we don’t have time for that.’
I allowed gay waiter with fake accent to help me put my coat on, then said, ‘
Il y a eu une grande explosion. Téléphonez les pompiers et sortez du batiment, s’il vous plaît,
’ which meant there has been a big explosion, telephone the emergency services and evacuate the building immediately. He looked a bit frazzled, smiled, then hotfooted it away before I could rip off his mask
Scooby Doo
style. ‘Well, we don’t need much time to talk about me because there’s nothing interesting happening. Trust me. We’ll catch up on our own sometime, next week I’ll go to one of your gigs and we can have a bop in the booth?’ Melanie was a much-in-demand DJ hot on the party circuit who went by the name DJ Darkness, more after the fact that she never saw daylight as opposed to being a tribute to her stunning Armenian looks.
She smiled and gave me a hug and rubbed my back affectionately. ‘That sounds great, even though we’ll have to lip-read. Ooh,’ she squeezed me tighter, ‘I just worry about you, Lucy.’
I froze. She must have sensed it because she let go very quickly. ‘What do you mean you worry about me?’
She looked like she’d put her foot in it. ‘I didn’t mean for it to be insulting, are you insulted?’
‘Well, I don’t know yet, I don’t know what that means, when your friend tells you they’re worried about you.’ They were all listening now. I was trying to keep it light-hearted but I wanted to get to the bottom of it. She’d never said that before, why was she saying it now? What was it about me that was making people suddenly worry about me? The comment she’d made about my leaving a party of hers played on my mind; maybe there were lots of things she felt about me that I didn’t know. Suddenly I wondered if they were all in on it, if they’d all signed the same paperwork as my family had. I looked at them all. They looked worried.
‘What?’ I beamed at everyone. ‘Why are you all looking at me like that?’
‘I don’t know about them but I was hoping for a fight,’ David piped up. ‘Cat fight, pinch her, scratch her, poke out her eyes.’
‘Rip off her clothes, tweak her nipples,’ Jamie joked, and they all laughed.
‘I’m not going to rip off her clothes,’ I smiled, wrapping my arm around Melanie. ‘She’s hardly wearing any.’
They laughed.
‘I just wanted to know why she was worried about me, that’s all,’ I said playfully. ‘Is anybody else at this table worried about me?’
They took turns and I’d never felt so loved.
‘Every day you get behind the wheel of that car,’ Lisa said.
‘Only that you can drink me under the table,’ David added.
‘I’ve concerns about your mental health,’ Jamie said.
‘I’m worrying about that dress with that coat,’ Chantelle said.
‘Great, anyone else want to take a pop at me?’ I laughed.
‘No, I’m not worried about you at all,’ Adam offered.
No one heard his meaning like I heard it.
‘And so on that joyous note, I’m leaving you all. I’ve to be up early in the morning. Happy birthday, Lisa. Bye bye, bump,’ I kissed her belly.
And I was gone.
I got the bus home. Sebastian was on a drip and was heavily medicated and so was having to sleep over in the garage.
My phone beeped.
–
Impressive canines. Maybe send me more photos and I can piece you together. If your boyfriend doesn’t mind?!
–
Slick.
–That’s not an answer.
–It is. It’s just not the answer you were looking for.
–What are you doing tomorrow?
–Busy. Going to be fired.
–Boyfriend … job … You’re not having a good week. I’d like to help with one of them!
–You speak Spanish?
–A requirement for boyfriends?
–Again … slick. However. A requirement to keep my job. About to be revealed as a non-Spanish-speaking Spanish translator.
–
Hate it when that happens. Estoy buscando a Tom. Means I’m looking for Tom. Came in handy in Spain. That’s all I’ll ever be allowed to say.
Later that night as I lay in bed listening to a Spanish language tape, I received a text.
–
Am slowly but surely breaking down your alias. Certainly not toothless, not married, perhaps an eye patch and ten kids. Tomorrow, will investigate.
I turned the flash off my camera phone, raised it to my face. I took a picture of my eyes. It took me a few tries to get them right. Sent it. I waited with my phone in my hand for him to respond. There was nothing. Maybe I’d gone too far. Later that night my phone beeped and I dived on it.
–
You showed me yours …
I scrolled down and I was staring at a perfectly formed, unpierced ear.
I smiled. Then closed my eyes and slept.