T 5:59 A.M., LOU AWOKE. The previous evening had gone exactly as predicted: by the time he had made it to bed, Ruth’s back had been firmly turned, with the blankets tightly tucked around her, leaving her as accessible as a fig in a roll. The message was loud and clear.

Lou couldn’t find it within himself to comfort her, to cross over the line that separated them in bed, in life, to make things okay. They had definitely reached a low point. Even as students, completely broke and staying in subpar accommodations, with temperamental heating and bathrooms they’d had to share with dozens of others, things had never been like this. Now they had a giant bed, so big that even when they both lay on their backs their fingers barely brushed when they stretched out. A monstrosity of space and cold spots in the sheets that couldn’t be warmed.

Lou lay in bed and thought back to the beginning, when he and Ruth had first met at university—two nineteen-year-olds, celebrating the winter finals. With a few weeks’ break ahead of them and test results far from their minds, they had met at open-mike night in the International Bar on Wicklow Street. After that night, Lou had thought about her every day while back home with his parents for the holidays. With every slice of turkey, every present he unwrapped, every family fight over Monopoly, she was on his mind. Because of her he’d even lost his title as the Count the Stuffing Champion with Marcia and Quentin. Lou stared up at the bedroom ceiling and smiled, remembering how each year he and his siblings—paper crowns on their heads and tongues dangling from their mouths—would get down to counting every crumb of stuffing on their plate, long after his parents had left the table. Every year, Marcia and Quentin would join together to beat him, but his dedication—some would say obsession—could never be matched. But that year he had been beaten by Quentin, because the phone had rung and it had been her, and the call had been it for Lou.

The nineteen-year-old of that Christmas would have longed for this moment right now. He would have grabbed the opportunity with both hands, to be transported to the future just to have Ruth right beside him in bed, in a fine house, with two beautiful children sleeping in the next rooms. He looked over at Ruth now. She had rolled onto her back, her mouth slightly parted, her hair like a haystack on top of her head. He smiled.

She’d done better than him in those winter exams, which was no hard task, but she did so the following three years, too. Studying had always come so easily to her, while he seemed to have to burn the candle at both ends in order just to scrape by. He didn’t know where she ever found the time to think, let alone study, she was so busy leading the way through their adventurous nights on the town. They’d crashed parties on a weekly basis, stayed out all night, but Ruth still made it to the first lecture, with her assignments completed. She could do it all.

Any time he’d failed an exam and had been forced to repeat it, she’d been there, writing out facts and figures for him to learn. She’d turn study sessions into quiz-show games, introducing prizes and buzzers, quick-fire rounds and punishments. She’d dress up in her finery, acting as quiz-show host, assistant, and model, displaying all the fine things he could win if he answered all the questions correctly. Even food shopping at the market was a game. “For this box of popcorn, answer me this,” she’d say.

“Pass,” he’d say, frustrated, trying to grab the box anyway.

“No passing, Lou, you know this one,” she’d say firmly, blocking the shelves.

He often wouldn’t know the answer at first, but she’d make him know it. Somehow she’d push him until he reached deep into a part of his brain that he didn’t know existed and found the answer that he never realized he knew.

They’d planned to go to Australia together after university. A year’s adventure away from Ireland before life started. They spent a year saving for the flights; Lou working as a bartender in Temple Bar while she tended tables. But then he failed his final exams, while Ruth passed with flying colors. He would have packed it in there and then, but she wouldn’t let him, convincing him he could do it, as she always did.

In the year waiting for him to retake his classes, Ruth completed a business master’s degree. Just for something to do. She never once rubbed it in his face or made him feel like a failure. She was always the friend, the girlfriend, the life and soul of every party, the A student and achiever.

So was that when he started resenting her? All the way back then? Was it because he never felt good enough, and this was his way of punishing her? Or maybe there was no psychology behind this; maybe he was just too weak and selfish to say no when an attractive woman so much as looked his way. Because when that happened, he forgot all sense of himself. He knew right from wrong, of course he did, but on those occasions he didn’t particularly care. He was invincible, always thinking there would be no consquences and no repercussions.

Ruth had caught him with the nanny six months ago. There had been only a few times, but Lou knew that if there were levels of wrongness for having affairs, which in his opinion there were, sex with the nanny was pretty high. There had been nobody since then, apart from a fumble with Alison, which had been a mistake. That was one that scored low on the wrongness scale. He’d been drunk, she was attractive, but he regretted it deeply. It didn’t count.

“Lou,” Ruth snapped, breaking into his thoughts and giving him a fright.

He looked over at her. “Morning.” He smiled. “You’ll never guess what I was just thinking ab—”

“Do you not hear that?” she interrupted him.

“Huh?” He turned to his left and noticed the clock had struck six. “Oh, sorry.” He leaned across and switched off the beeping alarm.

He’d clearly done something wrong because her face went a deep red and she fired herself out of bed and charged out of the room. It was only then that he heard Bud’s cries.

“Shit.” He rubbed his eyes tiredly.

“You said a bad wud,” said a little voice from behind the door.

“Morning, Lucy,” he said.

Her figure appeared then, a pink-pajamaed five-year-old, dragging her blanket along the floor behind her, her chocolate-brown hair tousled from her sleep. Her big brown eyes were the picture of concern. She stood at the end of the bed, and Lou waited for her to say something.

“You’re coming tonight, aren’t you, Daddy?”

“What’s tonight?”

“My school play.”

“Oh yeah, that, sweetie; you don’t really want me to go to that, do you?”

She nodded.

“But why?” He rubbed his eyes again. “You know how busy Daddy is; it’s very hard for me to get there.”

“But I’ve been practicing.”

“Why don’t you show me now, and then I won’t have to see you later.”

“But I’m not wearing my costume.”

“That’s okay. I’ll use my imagination. Mum always says it’s good to do that, doesn’t she?” He kept an eye on the door to make sure Ruth wasn’t listening. “And you can do it for me while I get dressed, okay?”

He threw the covers off and, as Lucy started prancing around, he rushed around the room, throwing on sweats and a T-shirt in which to work out.

“Daddy, you’re not looking!”

“I am, sweetheart. Come downstairs to the gym with me. There are lots of mirrors there for you to practice in front of. That’ll be fun, won’t it?”

A few minutes later he was on the treadmill. He turned on the TV and started watching Sky News, hardly noticing his daughter performing for him.

“Daddy, you’re not looking.”

“I am, sweetie.” He glanced at her once. “What are you playing?”

“A leaf. It’s a windy day and I fall off the tree and I have to go like this.” She twirled around the gym and Lou looked back at the TV.

“What’s a leaf got to do with Jesus?”

She shrugged, and he had to laugh.

“Will you come to see me tonight, pleeeease?”

“Yep,” he said, wiping his face on a towel.

“Promise?”

“Absolutely,” he said dismissively. “Okay, you go back up to your mum now. I’ve to take a shower.”

TWENTY MINUTES LATER AND ALREADY in work mode, Lou went into the kitchen to say a quick good-bye to everyone. Bud was in his high chair, rubbing banana into his hair; Lucy was sucking on a spoon and watching cartoons at top volume; and Ruth was in her nightgown making Lucy’s school lunch. She looked exhausted.

“Bye.” He kissed Lucy on the head; she didn’t budge, completely engrossed in her cartoon. He hovered above Bud, trying to find a place on his face that wasn’t covered in food. “Eh, bye.” He pecked him awkwardly on the top of his head. Then he made his way around to Ruth.

“Do you want to meet me there at six or go together from here?”

“Where?”

“The school.”

“Oh. About that.” He lowered his voice.

“You have to go; you promised.” She stopped buttering the bread to look at him in anger.

“Lucy showed me the dance downstairs and we had a talk, so she’s fine about me not being there.” He picked at a slice of ham on the cutting board. “Do you know why the hell she’s a leaf in a nativity play?”

Ruth laughed. “Lou, I know you’re playing with me. I told you to put this in your diary last month. And then I reminded you last week, and I called that woman Tracey at the office—”

“Ah, that’s what happened.” He clicked his fingers in a gosh-darn-it kind of way. “Wires crossed. Tracey’s gone. Alison replaced her. So maybe there was a problem when they switched over.” He tried to say it playfully, but Ruth’s face of disappointment, hatred, and disgust, all rolled into one, stopped him.

“I mentioned it twice last week. I mentioned it yesterday morning. I’m like a frigging parrot with you, and you still don’t remember. The school play tonight and then dinner with your mum, dad, Alexandra, and Quentin. And Marcia might be coming, if she can move around her therapy session.”

“No, she really shouldn’t miss that.” Lou rolled his eyes. “Ruthy, please, I would rather stick pins in my eyes than have dinner with them.”

“They’re your family, Lou.”

“All Quentin talks about are boats. Boats, boats, and more bloody boats. It is totally beyond him to think of any other conversation that doesn’t involve the words boom and cleat.”

“You used to love sailing with Quentin.”

“I used to love sailing. Not necessarily with Quentin, and that was years ago.” He groaned. “And Marcia…it’s not therapy she needs, it’s a good kick in the ass.”

“Tough,” Ruth said, continuing with her lunch making. “Lucy is expecting you at the play, your parents are excited, and I need you here. I can’t do the dinner and play host all on my own.”

“Mum will help you.”

“Your mother just had a hip replacement.” Ruth was straining to keep her voice down.

“Don’t I know it. I collected her from hospital and got into trouble for it, like I said I would,” he grumbled. “While Quentin was off on his boat.”

“He was racing, Lou!” She dropped the knife and turned to him, then seemed to switch gears. “Please.” She kissed him softly on the lips, and he closed his eyes, lingering in the rare moment.

“But I’ve so much to do at work,” he said quietly amid their kiss. “It’s important to me.”

Ruth pulled away. “Well, I’m glad something is, Lou, because for a moment there I almost thought you weren’t human.” She was silent as she finished buttering the bread fiercely, the knife hitting so roughly that it made holes. She slapped down slices of ham, tossed in a slice of cheese, then pushed down on the bread and sliced it diagonally with a sharp knife. She moved about the kitchen, slamming drawers and violently ripping tinfoil from the teeth of the packaging.

“We’re not in this life just to work, Lou, we’re in it to live. We have to start doing things together, and that means your doing things for me even when you don’t want to, and vice versa. Otherwise, what’s the point?”

“What do you mean ‘vice versa’? When do I ever make you do anything you don’t want to?”

“Lou,” she gritted her teeth, “they’re your bloody family, not mine.”

“So cancel it! I don’t care.”

“You have family responsibilities.”

“But I have more work responsibilities. Family can’t fire me if I don’t turn up to a bloody dinner, can they?”

“Yes, they can, Lou,” she said quietly.

“Is that a threat?” He lowered his voice. “You can’t throw comments like that at me, Ruth; it’s not fair.”

Ruth just looked at him and said nothing, allowing her stare to speak for her.

“Okay, fine, I’ll do my best to be there,” Lou said, both to please her and to get out of the house, yet not meaning a word of it. On her look, he rephrased it with more meaning. “I’ll be there.”

LOU ARRIVED AT HIS OFFICE at eight a.m. A full hour before another soul would arrive, even Alison. It was important for him to be the first in; it made him feel efficient, ahead of the pack. As he stepped out of the empty elevator into the quiet corridor, he could smell the products used by the cleaning staff last night. The scents of carpet shampoo, furniture polish, and air fresheners still lingered, as yet untainted by morning coffee and other human smells. It was still pitch-black outside at this early winter hour, and the office windows seemed cold and hard. Lou looked forward to leaving the empty corridors and getting to his office for his morning routine.

En route to his office he stopped suddenly in his tracks. Though Alison’s desk was empty, as expected, Lou could see that his office door was ajar and the lights were on. He walked briskly toward it. Seeing Gabe moving around inside his office, he felt his heart begin pounding as the anger surged through him.

“Hey!” he yelled, and fired his fist at the door, punching it open and watching it swing violently. He opened his mouth to yell again, but before he could get his words out, he heard another voice coming from behind the door.

“My goodness, who’s that?” came the startled voice of his boss.

“Oh, Mr. Patterson. I’m sorry,” Lou said breathlessly, quickly stopping the door from slamming against the man’s face. “I didn’t realize you were in here.” He rubbed his hand, his fist stinging and beginning to throb from punching the door. He looked from Mr. Patterson to Gabe uncertainly. “I’m sorry to have frightened you. I just thought that there was somebody in here who shouldn’t be.” His eyes landed on Gabe.

“Good morning, Lou,” Gabe said politely.

Lou slowly nodded at him in acknowledgment, wanting nothing more right then than an explanation as to why Gabe and his boss were standing in his office at eight a.m.

He looked down at Gabe’s empty mail cart and then at the files splayed out on his desk. He or Alison always tidied the papers on his desk at the end of every evening. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Gabe.

Gabe stared back unblinkingly.

“I was just chatting with young Gabe here,” Mr. Patterson explained. “He told me that he started his job yesterday, and isn’t he just wonderful for being the first into the office? That shows such dedication to the job.”

“First in? Really?” Lou faked a smile. “Wow. Looks like you beat me to it this morning, because I’m usually the first one in.” Lou turned to Mr. Patterson and offered an even bigger smile. “But you already knew that, didn’t you, Gabe?”

Gabe returned the smile with equal sincerity. “You know what they say: the early bird catches the worm.”

“Yes, it does. It catches it indeed.” Lou glared at him through his grin. A glare and a grin. Both at the same time.

Mr. Patterson watched the exchange with growing discomfort. “Well, it’s just after eight. I should leave.”

“Just after eight, you say. That’s funny.” Lou perked up. “The mail hasn’t even arrived yet. What, em, what exactly are you doing in my office then, Gabe?” His voice had an edge to it that was clearly recognizable.

“Well, I came in early to familiarize myself with the building,” Gabe responded angelically.

“Isn’t that wonderful?” Mr. Patterson asked, trying to break the tension.

“Yes, it is, but, Gabe, you already familiarized yourself with my office yesterday,” Lou said tightly. “So I’m asking again, what are you doing here?”

“Now, now, Lou, I fear I must jump in here,” Mr. Patterson said awkwardly. “I met young Gabe in the hallway and we got talking. As a favor for me, I’d asked him to take some files to your office. He was delivering them to your desk when I realized I’d left one in my briefcase. But when I turned around to tell him, he was already gone. Poof! Just like that!” Mr. Patterson chuckled.

“Poof!” Gabe grinned at Lou. “That’s me, all right.”

“I like fast workers, but I must say I prefer fast and efficient, and my goodness you certainly are that.”

Gabe jumped in before Lou could say anything.

“Thank you, Mr, Patterson, and if there’s anything else you’d like me to do for you, please let me know. I finish my shift at lunchtime and would be only too happy to help out for the rest of the afternoon. I’m keen to work.”

Lou’s stomach tightened.

“That’s wonderful, Gabe, thank you, I’ll keep that in mind. So, Lou,” Mr. Patterson turned to face him, and Lou waited for Gabe, no longer a part of this conversation, to leave. But he didn’t. “I wonder if you’d be able to meet with Bruce Archer this evening. You remember him.”

Lou nodded, his heart lifting as though he was a schoolboy again, wanting to please the teacher.

“I was supposed to meet with him, but I was reminded this morning of something else I have to attend.”

“This evening?” Lou asked, happily kissing good-bye Lucy’s play and dinner with his family. He’d been saved. “That’s no problem. It would be a pleasure.”

He felt Gabe’s eyes sear into him.

In his mind, Lucy, dizzy from her twirling for him, dropped to the ground, and Ruth opened her eyes and pulled away from their morning kiss, his promise of less than an hour ago having already been broken. He felt a split second of guilt, which at least told him he was human, making him feel that he might actually be a good family man. Some of his colleagues felt no guilt at all.

“Great. Great. Well, Melissa can fill you in on the details. I have a big night tonight.” Mr. Patterson winked at Gabe. “It’s my little one’s Christmas play. I’d forgotten all about it until he came running in this morning dressed as a star. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” Gabe said, his face lighting up. “He’d probably never forgive you if you weren’t there. It’s such an important night for him. You’re a good father to go, as busy as you are.”

Lou glared at Gabe.

“Well, thank you, Gabe,” Mr. Patterson beamed, happy with the praise. “Right so, enjoy tonight, Lou, and well done for finding this lad.” Mr. Patterson patted Gabe on the back.

“Morning, Laurence,” Lou heard the familiar cheery call behind him and turned around to see Alfred join them in his office. “Is this a secret little meeting I didn’t know about?” Alfred smiled, looking from Lou to Mr. Patterson.

Alfred was a tall man, six feet, with white-blond hair, kind of like an oversized Milky Bar kid who had melted and been molded back together by the hands of a child. He always spoke with a smirk on his face and in the kind of accent that came from being privately schooled in England. His nose was disjointed from his rugby days, and he swanned around the office, as Gabe had observed the previous day, kicking up the tassels of his loafers with the air of a naughty schoolboy who was up to tricks.

Alfred’s eyes fell upon Gabe, then quite obviously looked him up and down in silence and waited to be introduced. Gabe imitated him, confidently giving Alfred the once-over right back.

“Nice shoes,” Gabe finally said, and Lou looked down at the brown loafers Gabe had described yesterday.

“Thank you.” Alfred looked a little put out.

“I also like your shoes, Mr. Patterson,” Gabe commented, looking over at them.

In a slightly awkward moment, all eyes looked down at the men’s feet. Lou’s heart started pumping at a ridiculous rate at the sight of the black slip-ons and the brown loafers, the exact shoes Gabe had described the previous morning. So Alfred was meeting with Mr. Patterson. Lou looked from Alfred to Mr. Patterson, feeling a sense of betrayal. It wasn’t official that Cliff’s job was up for grabs, but if it was, Lou was hell-bent on making sure it would be his, not Alfred’s. It now looked like he had a fight on his hands.

“Who are you?” Alfred finally asked Gabe after Mr. Patterson had bid them farewell.

“I’m Gabriel.” Gabe held out his hand. “Friends call me Gabe, but you can call me Gabriel.” He smiled.

“Charming. Alfred.” Alfred reached out his hand.

Their shake was cold and limp, and their hands fell quickly by their sides.

“Do I know you?” Alfred narrowed his eyes.

“No, we’ve never actually met, but you may recognize me.”

“Why’s that, were you in a reality show or something?” Alfred studied him again, with a less confident smirk.

“You used to pass by me every day, just outside this building.”

Alfred looked back at Lou with a slightly nervous smile. “Help me out here, pal.”

“I used to sit at the doorway next door,” Gabe continued. “Lou gave me a job.”

Alfred’s face eventually broke into a smile, the relief more than obvious on his arrogant face. His demeanor shifted and he became the big man on campus again, knowing that his position wasn’t being threatened by a homeless man.

He laughed as he turned to Lou, making a face and using a tone that he didn’t even attempt to disguise in Gabe’s company. “You gave him a job, Lou?” he said. “Well, isn’t it the season to be jolly, indeed. What the hell is going on with you?”

“Alfred, just leave it,” Lou replied, embarrassed.

“Okay.” Alfred held his hands up and chuckled to himself. “You thought Patterson would like that one, didn’t you? Clever thinking, Lou. You’re really reaching high up into your sleeve for Cliff’s job, aren’t you?”

“I thought Cliff’s job was still Cliff’s?” Gabe said.

Alfred looked at him dismissively. “Only if he gets better.”

“And Cliff isn’t going to get better,” Lou added, before he and Alfred both laughed, Lou looking slightly guilty for doing so, Alfred unashamedly throwing his head back and guffawing.

Gabe looked from one to the other, bemused.

“Hey, can I use your bathroom?” Alfred suddenly stopped laughing.

“What? No, not here, Alfred, just use the restrooms.”

“Come on, don’t be a jerk.” His tongue sounded too big for his mouth as it rolled around his words. “I’ll just be a second. See you around, Gabe; I’ll try to aim my coins at your cart when you pass by,” Alfred joked, giving Gabe the once-over again. He smirked and winked at Lou before making his way to Lou’s private bathroom.

From the office, Lou and Gabe could hear loud sniffing behind the bathroom door.

“There seems to be a nasty cold going around this district,” Gabe said.

Lou turned to him. “Look, I’m sorry, Gabe—he’s, you know, don’t take him seriously.”

“Oh, nobody should ever take anybody seriously really; you can’t control anything but what’s inside this circle.” Gabe’s arms made a movement around his body. “Until we all do that, nobody can be taken seriously. Here, I got you this.” He leaned down to the bottom tray of his cart and lifted up a Styrofoam cup of coffee. “I owe you from yesterday. It’s a latte; the machine was back working again.”

“Oh, thanks.” Lou felt even worse now, totally conflicted as to how he felt about this man.

“So, you’re going to dinner tonight?” Gabe undid the brake on the cart and started to move away, one of the wheels squeaking as he pushed it.

“No, just a coffee. Not dinner.” Lou was unsure if Gabe wanted to be invited. “It’s no big deal really. I’ll be in and out in an hour at the most.”

“Oh, come on, Lou,” Gabe said with a smile, and he sounded alarmingly like Ruth. Oh, come on, Lou, you know this one. But he didn’t finish the sentence in quite the same way. “You know these things always turn into dinner,” Gabe continued. “Then drinks and then whatever.” He winked. “You must really want poor Cliff’s job.”

Lou bit the inside of his lip and nodded. With every fiber of his being he wanted that job.

“But is any of it worth it for the amount of trouble you’ll be in at home, Aloysius?” he said in a singsong voice that chilled Lou to the bone.

Gabe made his way toward the elevator, the squeaking of the wheel loud in the empty hallway.

“Hey!” Lou called after him, but he didn’t turn around. “Hey!” he repeated. “How did you know that? Nobody knows that!”

Even though he was alone in the office, Lou quickly looked around to make sure no one else had heard.

“Relax! I won’t tell anyone,” Gabe called back to him in a voice that made Lou feel far from reassured. Lou watched as Gabe pressed the call button for the elevator and lingered by the doors.

The bathroom door opened and Alfred exited, rubbing at his nose and sniffing. “What’s all the shouting about? Hey, where did you get the coffee?”

“Gabe,” Lou replied, distracted.

“Who? Oh, the homeless guy,” Alfred said uninterested. “Really, Lou, what the hell were you thinking? He could wipe you out.”

“What do you mean?”

“Come on, were you born yesterday? You’ve taken a man who has nothing and put him in a place where there is everything. Ever heard of a thing called temptation? Actually, forget I asked. It’s you I’m talking to,” he said. “You give in to that every time. Perhaps you and the homeless man aren’t so different,” he added. He chuckled and his chest wheezed, the result of his forty-a-day smoking habit.

“We’re nothing alike,” Lou spat, looking back down at the elevators to Gabe.

But Gabe was gone.

The elevator pinged and the doors opened, like welcoming arms ready to embrace the next guest. But there was nobody there. It waited, but nobody entered, and so it crossed its arms in a huff, and descended again.