Chapter 7 #2
He moves paperwork around on the desk. A file to the left, back to the right. Makes room for the dish.
‘Is everything okay with your missus?’ she asks, blowing her nose.
How long is too long to pretend?
‘No, actually, we split up but I don’t want to …’ He stands up and lifts dish.
‘Oh Jesus, I’m sorry, when?’
It’s the pity in her face. He can’t. He feels a sob coming on. Not now, not in his office.
‘A few weeks ago,’ he says, pushing the words out in a weird voice, the kind you have when there’s a burp caught in your throat. He lifts the lid on the dish, as something to do. ‘Do you want some apple tart?’
‘No.’
‘I think I’ll leave it in the kitchen for everyone to share.’ He wants to escape the conversation before he cries, but then he sees Walter still out there talking to someone, smiling. How can he be smiling while his balls are hanging out of his underwear?
‘Actually, could you do it?’ he asks, placing the dish in Natasha’s hands.
‘Sure. So do you want to see her now?’
‘Who?’
‘Helen Hanratty.’
‘She’s here?’
‘Yeah, she brought the tart and wanted to have a quick word with you. Sorry, did I not say?’ She’s confused, exhausted, she’ll be no use to him today but better here than walking out in front of traffic.
He had thought of doing that, but knowing his luck he wouldn’t die, or he would, and he couldn’t figure out what was worse.
He’d wanted just enough injuries for Tara and Walter to come to their senses and to his side.
They would decide his safety and well-being were more important than their happiness.
Just as well they’d only kissed, they hadn’t had sex, so he could forgive them both for their honest mistake and pick up where they’d left off. He knew this was all impossible.
‘Fine, okay.’
Helen Hanratty sits before him in a grey polo neck and pearl necklace. Only fifty per cent of the association is here today.
‘Hello again, Helen, thank you for the tart.’
‘Oh, it’s nothing, just something small as a token of thanks from the No Locks Association. We’re very grateful you removed the locks because we’re all about restoring and protecting the heritage sites of the city.’
‘Yes,’ he says, trying to anticipate her next demand. He waits for the But.
‘But, the Grace Plunkett Bridge still doesn’t look as it’s supposed to look. In fact it’s once again rather unsightly due to the plastic you’ve put on it.’
‘It’s Plexiglass. It’s to lock-proof the bridge. Just because we moved the locks once, doesn’t mean people won’t begin again.’ He’d wrap himself in Plexiglass if he could, or better yet remove his heart from his chest and cover it in Plexiglass before lowering it into his chest again.
‘Couldn’t you just keep removing the locks? Or have somebody standing by, guarding it?’
‘It’s not in our resources to do such a thing. Maybe you can go directly to Dublin City Council about that. We are the maintenance people.’
‘Dublin City Council keep diverting me to you.’
He bets they do.
‘It seems you’re the all-powerful bridge man,’ she says, smiling, trying to sweeten him up. That’s what the apple tart was for.
‘The all-powerful bridge man would be Tony, my boss, actually.’
‘Yes. He keeps diverting me to you too.’
Later that morning Al’s boss, Tony, knocks once loudly on Al’s office door and walks in without waiting for permission.
‘Congratulations on the removal of the locks from the Gifford Bridge. There was minimal damage done.’
‘It’s the Grace Plunkett Bridge,’ Al says, correcting him.
‘She got married.’ Hours before her love died.
It’s tragic. Is there any happy love story?
Al clears his throat to shake off the melancholy.
‘I would have preferred to remove the safety nets and replace them with new ones instead of using a bolt cutter to take each lock off individually. We had a team of three cutting them off. At one stage I helped. It was a big job.’ Money in the kitty for new grids would have been ideal.
‘I meant there was minimal damage in the media. I didn’t hear a dicky bird from anyone over the weekend.’
Always the media with this guy, always worried about what other people say and think.
‘I spoke to some people in the media on Friday, I gave some standard quotes.’
‘Well done. And where are we with the keys that are in the river? I’m hearing from environmentalists. We removed the locks but what about the keys?’ He portrays his indifference with a big smile, he’s always smiling. Al bets if he ever met the devil, the devil would be smiling.
‘That’s Walter’s area. I referred to it in my report.’
Did Tony even read the report? Did anyone?
‘Make sure he’s on it.’
‘He’s just out there, could you say it to him in passing, when you’re going back to your office?’
Tony looks at him as if he didn’t hear him properly, playful look gone. Al is ordering his boss to do something below his pay grade.
‘Is there a problem?’
Al considers. He could plant the seeds of Walter’s incompetency right now.
He could take his revenge to the next level and ruin his career.
Tara likes a nice life. She has a great job in corporate finance but expects everyone to pay their way, half of everything.
She wouldn’t be interested in Walter if he hadn’t any money or a job.
She wants two holidays a year and the occasional weekend trip.
She likes dinners in trendy restaurants and she wears fashionable clothes, not designer but high street, she keeps up with the trends, deliveries coming to the door a few times a month.
She doesn’t expect anybody else to pay for her but she does expect her partner to be able to keep up.
Shared standards. Walter would never have been able to do that from his shitty little job, until he was hired here.
Al had dragged him kicking and screaming into adulthood.
And he’d screwed him, and screwed his fiancée. The agony!
Tony is looking at him, playful nice guy expression wiped off his face. ‘You were the one who fought for Walter to be in this office. After all the convincing you did to get him in here, you’re going to tell me that you made a mistake?’
Because Tony would never own a mistake.
‘I’ll talk to him about the keys.’
‘Good.’ Tony winks and goes back to his office, a whist-ling nice guy all the way.
It’s okay. Al will casually go to the kitchen for a slice of apple tart that he doesn’t want because he hasn’t had an appetite since before Christmas and he’ll say it to Walter while others are around.
He can be resourceful by making Walter look incompetent at the same time.
He’s all ready to do it but, by the time he leaves his office, Walter is gone.
He bites the bullet. He heads towards Walter’s office going for the nonchalant, I don’t care about what you’ve done to me attitude, I’m better than you.
But as he gets closer he changes his mind.
It’s ‘The Sound of Silence’ day, his life has been upended and will never be the same because of Walter.
He’s ruined him and Walter needs to suffer as a consequence.
By the time he gets to Walter’s office, he doesn’t know what his approach is going to be and he’s sweating. The door is open, Walter is sitting at his desk reading paperwork.
Al knocks on the door like a prison warden on a cell door. He knows he’s struck the wrong tone as soon as he’s done it, and regrets it. It sounds threatening.
Walter jumps at the sound and looks up in surprise.
Al likes the expression of fear on Walter’s face.
He looks beyond Al briefly to the desks outside to see who’s around.
Does he think he’s going to get a hiding?
They both know Al would win hands down. Even though he stopped competitive rowing after he met Tara, the years he spent training since his teens have him built like a brick house.
Suddenly confident, Al widens his legs and fills the doorframe, standing square on.
He’s six foot two, with a rower’s shoulders and thighs, he can be enormous when he wants to be.
‘I spoke to Tony. He wanted me to tell you that the River Carmac needs the locks cleaned out.’
He sits up. ‘He said that?’
Al doesn’t feel the need to repeat himself.
‘Before I design the clean-up I need to determine the extent of contamination and risks for people and wildlife first—’
‘I don’t care,’ Al says, hating that he’s even giving Walter the time of day. ‘Just do your job that I got for you.’ And on that note he leaves, feeling pretty good about himself until he gets back to his office.
He could have left out the last part. It made him look weak.