shiny shoes began to fidget slightly, tip-tap, tap-tip, Lou’s side-to-side steps a combination of trying to keep warm and trying to figure out whether to leave or stay. They twisted around slowly to face the building next door. He would soon follow in the direction of his feet.
‘Busy this morning, isn’t it?’ Gabe said easily, bringing the shoes back to face him again.
‘Christmas is only a few weeks away, always a hectic time,’ Lou agreed.
‘The more people around, the better it is for me,’ Gabe said as a twenty cent went flying into his cup. ‘Thank you,’ he called to the lady who’d barely paused to drop the coin. From her body language one would almost think it had fallen through a hole in her pocket rather than being a gift. He looked up at Lou with big eyes and an even bigger grin. ‘See? Coffee’s on me tomorrow,’ he chuckled.
Lou tried to lean over as inconspicuously as possible to steal a look at the contents of the cup. The twenty-cent piece sat alone at the bottom.
‘Oh, don’t worry. I empty it now and then. Don’t want people thinking I’m doing too well for myself,’ he laughed. ‘You know how it is.’
Lou agreed, but at the same time didn’t.
‘Can’t have people knowing I own the penthouse right across the water,’ Gabe added, nodding across the river.
Lou turned around and gazed across the Liffey at Dublin quay’s newest skyscraper, which Gabe was referring to. With its mirrored glass it was almost as if the building was the Looking Glass of Dublin city centre. From the re-created Viking longship that was moored along the quays, to the many cranes and new corporate and commercial buildings that framed the Liffey, to the stormy, cloud-filled sky that filled the higher floors, the building captured it all and played it back to the city like a giant plasma. Shaped like a sail, at night the building was illuminated in blue and was the talk of the town, or at least had been in the months following its launch. The next best thing never lasted for too long.
‘I was only joking about owning the penthouse, you know,’ Gabe said, seeming a little concerned that his possible pay-off had been sabotaged.
‘You like that building?’ Lou asked, still staring at it in a trance.
‘It’s my favourite one, especially at night-time. That’s one of the main reasons I sit here. That and because it’s busy along here, of course. A view alone won’t buy me my dinner.’
‘We built that,’ Lou said, finally turning back around to face him.
‘Really?’ Gabe took him in a bit more. Mid to late thirties, dapper suit, his face cleanly shaven, smooth as a baby’s behind, his groomed hair with even speckles of grey throughout, as though someone had taken a salt canister to it and, along with grey, sprinkled charm at a ratio of 1:10. Lou reminded him of an old-style movie star, emanating suaveness and sophistication and all packaged in a full-length black cashmere coat.
‘I bet it bought you dinner,’ Gabe laughed, feeling a slight twinge of jealousy at that moment, which bothered him as he hadn’t known any amount of jealousy until he’d studied Lou. Since meeting him he’d learned two things that were of no help, for there he was, all of a sudden cold and envious when previously he had been warm and content. Bearing that in mind, despite always being happy with his own company, he foresaw that as soon as this gentleman and he were to part ways, he would experience a loneliness he had never been previously aware of. He would then be envious, cold and lonely. The perfect ingredients for a nice homemade bitter pie.
The building had bought Lou more than dinner. It had gotten the company a few awards, and for him personally, a house in Howth and an upgrade from his present Porsche to the new model – the latter after Christmas, to be precise, but Lou knew not to announce that to the man sitting on the freezing cold pavement, swaddled in a flea-infested blanket. Instead, Lou smiled politely and flashed his porcelain veneers, as usual doing two things at once. Thinking one thing and saying another. But it was the in-between part that Gabe could clearly read, and this introduced a new level of awkwardness that neither of them was comfortable with.
‘Well, I’d better get to work. I just work –’
‘Next door, I know. I recognise the shoes. More on my level,’ Gabe smiled. ‘Though you didn’t wear those yesterday. Tan leather, if I’m correct.’
Lou’s neatly tweezed eyebrows went up a notch. Like a pebble dropped in a pool, they caused a series of ripples to rise on his as yet un-botoxed forehead.
‘Don’t worry, I’m not a stalker.’ Gabe allowed one hand to unwrap itself from the hot cup so he could hold it up in defence. ‘I’ve just been here a while. If anything, you people keep turning up at my place.’
Lou laughed, then self-consciously looked down at his shoes, which were the subject of conversation. ‘Incredible.’
‘I’ve never noticed you here before,’ Lou thought aloud, and at the same time as saying it he was mentally reliving each morning he’d walked this route to work.
‘All day, every day,’ Gabe said, with false perkiness in his voice.
‘Sorry, I never noticed you …’ Lou shook his head. ‘I’m always running around the place, on the phone to someone or late for someone else. Always two places to be at the same time, my wife says. Sometimes I wish I could be cloned, I get so busy,’ he laughed.
Gabe gave him a curious smile at that. ‘Speaking of running around, this is the first time I haven’t seen those boys racing by.’ Gabe nodded towards Lou’s feet. ‘Almost don’t recognise them standing still. No fire inside today?’
Lou laughed. ‘Always a fire inside there, believe you me.’ He made a swift movement with his arm and, like the unveiling of a masterpiece, his coat sleeve slipped down just far enough to reveal his gold Rolex. ‘I’m always the first into the office so there’s no great rush now.’ He observed the time with great concentration, in his head already leading an afternoon meeting.
‘You’re not the first in this morning,’ Gabe said.
‘What?’ Lou’s meeting was disturbed and he was back on the cold street again, outside his office, the cold Atlantic wind whipping at their faces, the crowds of people all bundled up and marching in their armies to work.
Gabe scrunched his eyes shut tight. ‘Brown loafers. I’ve seen you walk in with him a few times. He’s in already.’
‘Brown loafers?’ Lou laughed, first confused, then impressed and quickly concerned as to who had made it to the office before him.
‘You know him – a pretentious walk. The little suede tassels kick with every step, like a mini can-can, it’s like he throws them up there purposely. They’ve got soft soles but they’re heavy on the ground. Small wide feet, and he walks on the outsides of his feet. Soles are always worn away on the outside.’
Lou’s brow furrowed in concentration.
‘On Saturdays he wears shoes like he’s just stepped off a yacht.’
‘Alfred!’ Lou laughed, recognising the description. ‘That’s because he probably has just stepped off his ya—’ but he stopped himself. ‘He’s in already?’
‘About
