AKEY WAKEY,” A SINGSONG VOICE penetrated Lou’s drunken dreams, where everything was being rerun a hundred times over: mopping Lucy’s brow; plugging Bud’s pacifier back into his mouth; holding Lucy’s hair back as she threw up; hugging Ruth close, her body relaxing against his; then back to Lucy’s heated brow again; Bud spitting out his pacifier; Ruth’s smile when he’d told her he loved her.

He smelled fresh coffee under his nose. Finally opening his eyes, he jumped back at the sight that greeted him, bumping his already throbbing head against a concrete wall.

Lou took a moment to adjust to his surroundings. Some of the visions that greeted his newly opened eyes in the morning were less comforting than others. Rather than the mug of coffee that at that moment was thrust mere inches from his nose, he was more accustomed to the sound of a toilet flush occasionally as his wake-up call. Often the wait for the mystery toilet flusher to exit the bathroom and show her face was a long and unnerving one, and, on a few occasions, Lou had taken it upon himself to disappear from the bed, and the building, before the mystery woman had the opportunity to show her face.

On this particular morning after Lou Suffern had been doubled up for the very first time, he was faced with a new scenario: a man of similar age was offering him a mug of coffee with a satisfied look on his face. This was certainly a new one for the books. Thankfully, the young man was Gabe, and Lou found, with much relief, that they were both fully dressed. With a throbbing head and the foul stench of something rotting in his mouth, he took in his surroundings.

He was on the ground. That he could tell by his proximity to the concrete and the long distance to the open paneled ceiling with its wires dripping down. The floor was hard despite the sleeping bag beneath him. He had a crick in his neck from the position to which his head had been rather unfortunately lodged. Above him, metal shelves towered to the ceiling: hard, gray, cold, and depressing, they stood like the cranes that littered Dublin’s skyline, metal invaders umpiring a developing city. To the left, the new addition of a shadeless lamp was the guilty party behind the unforgiving bright white light that wasn’t so much thrown around the room as it was aimed at Lou’s head, like a pistol in a steady hand. What was glaringly obvious was that he was in Gabe’s room in the basement. Gabe now stood over him. The sight was familiar, a mirror image of only a week ago, when Lou had stopped on the street to offer Gabe a coffee. Only this time the image was as distorted and disturbing as a mirror at a carnival, because when Lou assessed the situation, it was he who was down here, and Gabe who was up there.

“Thanks.” He took the mug from Gabe, wrapping his cold hands around the porcelain. He shivered. “It’s freezing in here.” His first words were a croak, and as he sat up he felt the weight of the world crashing down on his head, another hangover for the second morning running.

“Yeah, someone promised to bring me an electric heater, but I’m still waiting.” Gabe grinned. “Don’t worry, I hear blue lips are in this season.”

“Oh, sorry, I’ll get Alison right on that,” Lou mumbled, and sipped the black coffee. He had taken his initial wakening moment to figure out where he was. His first sip of caffeine alerted him to another problem.

“What the hell am I doing here?” he asked. He sat up properly, attentive now, and studied himself for clues. He was dressed in yesterday’s suit, a crumpled, rumpled mess with some questionable, though mostly self-explanatory, stains on his shirt, tie, and jacket. “What the hell is that smell?”

“I think it’s you,” Gabe said. “I found you around the back of the building last night throwing up into a trash bin.”

“Oh God,” Lou whispered, covering his face with his hands. Then he looked up, confused. “But last night I was home. Ruth and Lucy; they were sick. And as soon as they fell asleep, Bud woke up.” He rubbed his face tiredly. “Did I just dream that?”

“Nope,” Gabe replied chirpily, pouring hot water into his one mug of instant coffee. “You did that, too. You were very busy last night, don’t you remember?”

It took a moment for last night’s events to register with Lou, but the onslaught of memories of the previous night—the pill, the doubling up—came rushing back to his mind.

“That girl I met.” He aborted the sentence, both wanting to know the answer and not wanting to know at the same time. A part of him was sure of his innocence, while the other part of him wanted to take himself outside and beat himself up for possibly jeopardizing his marriage again. His body broke out into a cold sweat, which added a new scent to the mix.

Gabe let him stew for a while as he blew on his coffee and took tiny sips.

“Was I alone when you found me last night?” A loaded question.

“Indeed you were, very alone. Though not lonely. You were quite content to keep yourself company, mumbling about some girl,” Gabe teased him. “Seemed as though you’d lost her and couldn’t remember where you’d put her. You didn’t find her at the bottom of the bin. Though perhaps if we cleared away the layer of vomit you deposited, your cardboard cutout woman may have been revealed.”

“What did I say? I mean, don’t tell me exactly, just tell me if I said anything about—you know. Shit, if I’ve done something, Ruth will kill me.” Tears sprang into his eyes. “I’m the biggest fucking asshole.” He kicked away the blanket on top of him in frustration.

Gabe’s smile faded, respecting this side of Lou. “You didn’t do anything with her.”

“How do you know?”

“I know.”

Lou studied him then, warily, curiously, but also with trust. Gabe seemed to be his everything right then: the only person who understood his situation, yet the one who had put him in this situation in the first place. A dangerous relationship.

“Gabe, we really have to talk about these pills. I don’t want them anymore.” He took them out of his pocket. “I mean, last night was a revelation, it really was, in so many ways.” He rubbed his eyes tiredly, remembering the sound of his drunken voice at the end of the phone. “I mean, are there two of me now?”

“No, you’re back to one again,” Gabe explained. “Fig roll?”

“But Ruth.” Lou ignored him. “She’ll wake up, and I’ll be gone. She’ll be worried. Did I just vanish?”

“She’ll wake up, and you’ll already be off to work, just like always.”

Lou absorbed that information and calmed a little. “But it’s not right; it doesn’t make sense. We really need to discuss where you got these pills from.”

“You’re right, we do,” Gabe said seriously, taking the container from Lou and stuffing them into his pocket. “But not yet. It’s not time yet.”

“What do you mean, not yet? What are you waiting for?”

“I mean it’s almost eight thirty, and you’ve got a meeting to get to before Alfred sweeps in and steals the limelight. Again.”

At that, Lou placed his coffee carelessly on a shelf and jumped to his feet, instantly forgetting his serious concerns about the peculiar pills and failing to question how on earth Gabe knew about his eight thirty meeting.

“You can’t go in looking like that.” Gabe laughed, looking up and down at Lou’s filthy rumpled suit. “And you smell of vomit. And cat urine. Believe me, I know, I’ve a fine nose for it by now.”

“I’ll be okay.” Lou looked at his watch while taking off his suit jacket at the same time. “I’ll grab a quick shower in my office and change into my spare suit.”

“You can’t. I’m wearing it, remember?”

Lou looked down at Gabe then, and remembered how he’d provided him with his spare clothes on that first day. He’d bet Alison didn’t yet know to replace the clothes.

“Shit! Shit, shit, shit!” Lou paced the small room, biting his manicured fingernails, pulling and spitting, pulling and spitting.

“Don’t worry, my maid will see to those,” Gabe said with amusement, watching as the chewed bits of nail fell to the cemented floor.

Lou ignored him, pacing some more. “Shops don’t open till nine. Where the hell can I get a suit?”

“Never fear, I think I have something here in my walk-in wardrobe,” Gabe said, disappearing down the first aisle and reappearing with his new suit draped in plastic. “Like I said, you never know when a new suit will come in handy. And it’s your size, fancy that. It’s almost like it was made for you.” He winked. “May your outer dignity mirror an inner dignity of your soul,” he said, handing the suit over.

“Eh, yeah, sure. Thanks,” Lou said uncertainly, quickly taking it from Gabe’s outstretched hands.

In the empty staff elevator, Lou looked at his reflection in the mirror. He was unrecognizable from the man who’d woken up on the floor half an hour earlier. The suit that Gabe had given him, despite being from an unknown designer, was surprisingly a perfect fit. The blue of the shirt and tie against the navy jacket and trousers made Lou’s eyes pop, innocent and cherub-like.

Things were looking very good for Lou Suffern so far that day. He was back to his groomed, handsome best, his shoes polished to perfection by Gabe. The swing was back in his step, his left hand casually placed in his pocket, his right arm swinging loosely by his side and available to answer the phone and/or shake a hand at every possible moment. He was the man of the moment. And after a phone call home, he was also father of the year, according to Lucy.

While he whistled down the halls on the fourteenth floor, Melissa, Mr. Patterson’s assistant, chased after him.

“Lou!” she called.

He stopped, swiveled around. “Melissa. Good morning.”

“Mr. Patterson wants a brief word with you before the meeting.”

Lou froze. “About what?”

“If I was a mind reader, Lou, I would not have gone on that date last night, and I most certainly would not have gone in for that nightcap. Now, quick.” She turned on her very high, red-soled heels and ran back down the hall.

Lou composed himself, cleared his throat, and went over to rap on Mr. Patterson’s office door.

“Lou.” Mr. Patterson looked up from his papers. “I know we have a meeting in a few minutes, but I wanted to have a word before we go in. I just got off the phone with Anthea.”

Cliff’s wife. “Yes.” Lou’s heart thudded in his chest.

“Unfortunately, he won’t be coming back.”

Lou fought the urge to yelp in celebration.

“Oh. I see.”

“So we’ve some decisions to make around here,” Mr. Patterson said; then he looked over Lou’s shoulder and nodded at Melissa standing in the doorway. “I’ve got a quick call to make, Lou. I hope you don’t mind, but you’ll be at the party tomorrow night; we can talk more then.”

“Absolutely. I’ll be here.”

Lou was happy. So happy, in fact, that he started whistling and didn’t stop even when he reached his office, where Alison delivered the news that his sister was on the line. He happily picked up the phone and propped himself on the corner of Alison’s desk.

“Marcia, good morning,” he said cheerily.

“Well, you’re in a good mood today. I know you’re busy, Lou, so I won’t keep you. I just wanted to let you know that we all got Dad’s birthday invitations. They were…very nice…very sophisticated…not what I would have chosen but…anyway, I’ve had a few people on the phone to say they haven’t received theirs yet.”

“Oh, they must have gotten lost in the mail,” Lou said, “we’ll send theirs again.”

“But it’s tomorrow, Lou.”

“What?” He frowned and squinted his eyes to concentrate on the calendar on Alison’s desk.

“Yes, his birthday’s tomorrow,” she said, sounding slightly panicked. “They won’t get the invites if you send them out now. I just wanted to make sure that it would be okay for everyone just to turn up without an invite. It’s only a family party, anyway. We could have a guest list or something.”

“Tomorrow,” Lou’s mind was working overtime. He knew he had double-booked tomorrow night, but now the office party wasn’t just a party. It was a meeting with Mr. Patterson. “Things have changed, Marcia. Tomorrow is my office party, and I really have to—”

“You missed dinner the other night, Lou. Daddy was hurt enough at that. If you miss his seventieth…” She went silent.

“Okay, fine.” He rubbed his eyes, feeling his adrenaline shoot up again. “I’ll be there.”

“Yes, you will. I might just bring a few things to—”

“It’s all under control,” he said, interrupting her firmly.

“What have you got planned, Lou?” Marcia asked nervously.

“What have I got planned?” Lou faked a laugh. “Oh, well, come on, Marcia, we want it to be a surprise for everyone.”

“Do you know what’s happening?”

“Do I know what’s happening? Are you worried about my organizational skills?”

“I’m worried that you’ve repeated every single one of my questions just to give yourself more time to think,” she said.

“Of course I know what’s going on; you think I’d just leave it up to Alison to do alone?” He winked at Alison, who looked horrified. “She’s never even met Dad,” he said, speaking Marcia’s insecurities aloud.

“Exactly, Lou. This Alison seems like a nice girl, but she doesn’t really know Dad. I’ve been calling her to help, but she hasn’t been very forthcoming. I just want Dad to have the time of his life.”

“He will, Marcia; he will.” Lou’s stomach turned uneasily. “We’ll all have fun, I promise.”

HE HANDED THE PHONE BACK to Alison, his smile gone. “It’s all under control, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“The party,” he said firmly. “My dad’s party.”

“Lou, I’ve been trying to ask you questions about it all we—”

“Is it all under control? Because if it’s not, you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”

“Absolutely.” Alison smiled nervously. “The place you picked is very, erm, cool, shall we say, and they have their own events-management team. I told you about this already,” she said quickly, “a few times this week. I’d also left some food and music options on your desk, but when you didn’t choose any, I had to decide then myse—”

“Okay, Alison, a note for the future: when I ask if it’s all under control, I only want a yes or a no,” he said firmly. “I don’t have time for questions and memos, really; all I need to know is if you can do it or not. If you can’t, then that’s fine, but I need to know. Okay?”

She nodded quickly.

“Great.” He clapped his hands and hopped off the desk. “Now I’d better get to this meeting.”

“Here.” She handed him his files. “And congratulations on those two deals yesterday; everyone is talking about them.”

“They are?”

“Yes,” she said, wide-eyed. “Some people are saying you’ll get Cliff’s job.”

That was like music to Lou’s ears, but he played it down. “Now, Alison, let’s not jump the gun. We’re all wishing a speedy recovery for Cliff.”

“Of course we are, but…anyway”—she smiled—“we can talk more at the party tomorrow?”

“Of course we will.” He smiled back, and it was only as she threw him a loaded look that he really understood what she had meant. He hated himself for the flutter of excitement that rushed through him.

“Morning,” Gabe suddenly interrupted them, placing a package on the desk.

Lou jumped.

Gabe looked at him, amused.

“Gabe, can I have a word with you, please?” Lou said, once he’d gathered himself.

They walked into his office and closed the door behind them. “Can I have those…the container back, please. I was very tired and emotional this morning, and I don’t know what got into me. Of course I believe in the herbal-remedy thingies.”

Gabe didn’t respond. He continued laying out envelopes and packages on Lou’s desk while Lou looked on with hope on his face.

Lou tried again. “I heard this morning that Cliff’s not coming back.” He kept his voice down and tried to hide his excitement. “He’s totally fried.”

“Ah, the poor man who had the breakdown,” Gabe said, still flipping through the mail.

“Yes,” Lou almost squealed with excitement. “Don’t tell anyone I told you.”

“That Cliff’s not coming back?”

“Yes, that and…you know”—he looked around—“other things. Maybe a promotion. A nice big pay raise.” He grinned, then got serious. “Problem is, Mr. Patterson wants to talk to me tomorrow at the party, and it just so happens to be my dad’s birthday.”

“Ah, this is the need for the pills. Well, you can’t have them.”

At that, Gabe left Lou’s office and immediately continued pushing the cart down the hall. Lou quickly followed, yapping at his heels like a Jack Russell after a postman.

“Ah, come on, I’ll pay you whatever you want for them. How much?”

“I don’t want anything.”

“Okay, then you probably want to keep them for yourself, I get it. At least tell me where I can get more?”

“You can’t get them anywhere. I threw them away. You were right about them; they’re not right. Psychologically. And who knows about the physical side effects? Maybe they were a scientific experiment that found their way out of a lab. Besides, they served their purpose: you learned something very valuable from the experience, and that’s that you want to spend more time at home. Shouldn’t you just take that and be done with it?”

“What did you do to them?” Lou panicked, ignoring everything that Gabe had just said. “Where did you put them?”

“In the trash.”

“Well, get them for me. Go and get them back,” Lou said angrily. “Come on, hurry, Gabe.” He prodded Gabe in the back.

“They’re gone, Lou. I opened the container and emptied the pills into the trash bins outside, and considering what you deposited inside it last night, I’d steer clear.”

Lou grabbed him by the arm and led him to the elevators. “Show me.”

ONCE OUTSIDE, GABE POINTED THE yellow bin out to Lou, large and filthy. Lou charged over. Looking inside, he could see the container sitting on top, so close he could touch it. Beside it, the pile of pills lay among a greenish-brown ooze of some sort. The smell was dire; he held his nose and tried not to retch. The pills were embedded in whatever that substance was, and his heart sank. He took off his suit jacket and threw it at Gabe to catch. He rolled up his shirtsleeves and prepared to shove his hands in the foul-smelling ooze. He paused before going in.

“If I can’t get these pills, where can I get more?” he asked again.

“Nowhere,” Gabe responded, standing by the building’s back door and watching him, his arms folded. “They don’t make them anymore.”

“What?” Lou spun around. “Well, who made them? I’ll pay them to make more. Shit. Maybe I can wash these.” He stepped closer and leaned in. The smell made him retch. “What the hell is that?” He gagged again and had to step away from the bin. “Damn it.” Lou kicked the bin and then regretted it when the pain hit.

“Oh, look,” Gabe said in a bored tone. “It looks like I dropped one on the ground.”

“What? Where?” Lou instantly forgot the pain in his toe and raced back to the bin. He examined the ground around it. Between the cracks of the cobbles he saw something white peering up at him. Leaning closer, he noticed it was a pill.

“Aha! Found one!”

“Yeah, I had to throw them away from a distance, the smell was so bad,” Gabe explained. “A few fell on the ground.”

“A few? How many?”

Lou got down on his hands and knees and started searching.

“I thought you only needed one. Lou, you really should just go back inside. You’ve had a good day Why don’t you just leave it at that? Learn from it and move on?”

“I have learned from it,” Lou said, nose close to the cobbles. “I’ve learned that I’m the hero around here with these things. Aha! There’s another one.” Satisfied that those two were all he could salvage, he put them in his handkerchief and slipped them into his pocket, then stood up and wiped his knees.

“Two will do for now,” he said, wiping his forehead. “I can see two more under the Dumpster, but I’ll leave them for the time being.”

When Lou turned around, his knees dirty and his hair disheveled, he found he had more company. Alfred was standing beside Gabe, his arms folded, a smug look on his face.

“Drop something, Lou?”

WHEN LOU ENTERED THE BOARDROOM, a little delayed after washing up in the bathroom, all twelve colleagues around the table stood to applaud him, their big, white-toothed smiles beaming from ear to ear, but not quite meeting their tired morning eyes. This was what everybody he knew was faced with. Not enough hours of sleep and the inability to get away from work or work-related devices like laptops, BlackBerrys, and cell phones: distractions that each of their family members wanted to flush down the toilet. Of course they were all happy for him, in a frazzled kind of way. They were all functioning to stay alive, to pay the mortgages, to do the presentations, to meet the quotas, to please the boss, to get in early enough to beat the traffic, to hang around long enough in the evenings until it had gone. Everyone in that room was putting in all the hours under the sun trying to unload their work before Christmas, and as they all did that, the pile of personal problems in their in-boxes only grew higher. That would all be dealt with over Christmas break. Finally, time for festive family issues that had been sidelined all year. ’Twas the season for family folly.

The applause was led by a beaming Mr. Patterson, and everyone joined in but Alfred, who was exceptionally slow to stand. While the others were on their feet, he was slowly pushing his chair back. When the others were clapping, he was adjusting his tie and fastening his gold buttons. He succeeded in clapping just once before the applause died down, a single clap that sounded more like a burst balloon.

Lou worked his way around the table, shaking hands, slapping backs, kissing cheeks. By the time he reached Alfred, his friend had already seated himself, though he offered Lou a limp, clammy hand.

“Ah, the man of the moment,” Mr. Patterson said happily, taking Lou’s hand warmly and placing his left hand firmly on Lou’s upper arm. He stood back and looked at Lou proudly, as a grandfather would his grandson on Communion Day, beaming with pride and admiration.

Feeling like he was floating, Lou sat down and found it hard to keep up with the rest of the morning’s discussion. From the corner of his eye, Lou could see Alfred staring at him, the shark beginning to circle again.

“You look tired, Lou, were you out celebrating last night?” a colleague asked.

“I was up all night with my little girl. Vomiting bug. My wife had it, too, so it was a busy night.” He smiled, thinking of Lucy tucked in bed, her thick hair hiding half her face.

Alfred laughed, and his wheeze was loud. “You used that excuse just yesterday, Lou.”

So he had. A few people laughed.

The aggression was emanating from Alfred in waves. It seeped from his soul, distorting the air around him, and Lou wondered if everybody could see it. Lou felt for him oddly; he could see how lost and fearful Alfred was.

“It’s not just me you should be congratulating,” Lou announced to the table. “Alfred was in on the New York deal, too. And a fine job he did.”

“Absolutely.” Alfred brightened up, coming back to the room and fidgeting with his tie. “It was nice of Lou to finally join me at the end, just in time to see me wrap it all up.”

Everyone around the table laughed at the joke, but it hit Lou hard.

“Yes, we have already commended Alfred,” Mr. Patterson said. “But two deals at once, Lou, how on earth did you manage it? We all know you’re a multitasker at the best of times, but what an extraordinary use of time management and, of course, your negotiating skills.”

“Yes, extraordinary,” Alfred agreed. His tone was playful, but underneath it there was venom. “Almost unbelievable. Perhaps unnatural. What was it, Lou, a magic little pill? Speed?”

There were a few nervous laughs, a cough, and then a silence. Mr. Patterson broke the tension by getting the meeting started, but the damage had already been done. Alfred had left something hanging in the air. A question replaced what had previously been pure admiration; a seed had been planted in each mind. Whether the others believed Alfred or not, each time Lou achieved anything in the future, Alfred’s comment would be momentarily, perhaps subconsciously, entertained, and that seed would grow, peep up from dirty soil, and rear its ugly head.

After all his hard work, missing out on important family events, always running out of his home to get to the office, quick pecks on Ruth’s cheek for the sake of long handshakes with strangers, he had finally had his moment. Two minutes of handshakes and applause. Followed by a seed of doubt. Had it all been worth it?