Cecelia Ahern 2-Book Gift Collection: The Gift, Thanks for the Memories. Cecelia Ahern
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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 know 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.’