by Chris Binchy
“Nice,” I said.
“Isn’t she? Bit of a nutcase, though.”
I hesitated.
“It’s okay,” he said. “She is.”
“Maybe a bit.”
He smiled at me. It nearly made me cry.
“What is today about?” I asked him before I could stop myself.
“What?”
I leaned in to him and said it quietly.
“Why am I here? I don’t understand it. I don’t know who any of these people are. O’Toole told me not to tell anyone that I was coming. Did you know I was going to be here?”
“Yes.”
“So what’s it for?”
“It’s nothing to worry about,” he said. “Just relax. It’s all fine.”
“Why do people keep telling me to relax? I’m going to have a fucking panic attack in about ten seconds.”
He looked at me then. He must have seen that I was lost and I didn’t know what was happening.
“Everything is fine. O’Toole will talk to you later and tell you what it’s about, but it’s all good. I shouldn’t say anything more than that. I’ll let him sort you out. You don’t need to worry. This could be a very happy day for you.”
“If what? What do I have to do?”
“Nothing. Just have a drink. Tell me what you did last night. Talk about your family. Anything.”
“Okay,” I said. What else could I do? He asked again about what I’d got up to the previous night, and when I said I’d stayed in, that I hadn’t done anything, he told me about where he’d been. When O’Toole came over, I was feeling almost normal.
“Can I have five minutes, David?” he said.
“Sure.”
We walked across the lawn to a white painted metal table and chairs away from the rest of them, the noise of the conversation fading behind us. He sat down across from me and started to talk. From where I was sitting, I could see the others drinking and some of them still eating.
“I’m sorry not to have spoken to you before now,” he said. “You must be wondering what is going on.” He looked at me, waiting for something.
“Yes,” I said. “A bit.”
“I’m sure. Okay. Well, the thing is this. I’m leaving the company. I’m finishing up in two months. I’ll be working with my replacement getting him up to speed, and that will be it. We felt that it would be less disruptive not to announce it in the company until a bit closer to the time. I’ve been with the company for eighteen years, started out on the floor in London as a clerk and came back here when they opened this office.
“But what I want now is a change. I’ve got another eighteen years of work left in me, and I think if I’m ever going to do my own thing, I should start now. Mr. Donnelly over there is a friend of my wife’s family. I’ve been talking about setting up on my own for the past couple of years, and he always said I should talk to him before I did. And then a former colleague from London, who’s been working in IT for a lot longer than me, moved to Dublin last year, and that was the real impetus behind this. We’ve been putting together a plan for a software development company. We have the idea, we have the product, and the market is there. Mr. Donnelly is happy. We’re happy, and we’re ready.
“But we need good people. It’s going to be a small operation, only seven or eight people. Frank, who you know, is going to come with me. There are a couple of others that you may not have met yet. None of this is being talked about in public yet, and for various reasons there’ll have to be a certain amount of political subtlety when we actually start.
“I asked you here to see if you’d be interested in coming with us. I’ve been impressed by the way you’ve settled in so quickly, and the work you’ve done has been excellent. Frank speaks very highly of you, thinks you’re a person of the caliber that we need. So, I have to ask . . .” He laughed, almost nervous. “Do you think you might be interested?”
“Yes,” I said. “I think I might be.”
“This is just a first conversation. There are things that we’ll need to talk about. The good news is that we would pay you well, and there will be shares and dividends that could be worth a lot. The other thing is that it should be enjoyable. It would be hard work getting it set up, and I know it will involve long hours and a lot of uncertainty, but if it works you’ll be in at the start of something that I think could become very big. In the best-case scenario, we set it up, work hard at it for a few years, grow it to what it should be, and then go public. That’s if it works.
“If it doesn’t work, you’ll have given up the security of a job with the bank and the potential of a long and happy career with them. A young guy like you, capable and serious about the work, could move up the ranks there very quickly. I’m proof that they have great mobility for their staff, and that’s not something to be taken for granted. You could invest a couple of years at this stage in your life in something that doesn’t work. It could be frustrating and boring and unhappy. We could all be out of work within a year. I don’t think it’s likely, but it could certainly happen. Anyway. You can see what I’m telling you. With the talents that you have, I think you’re going to do very well for yourself no matter what you do. Ultimately it comes down to what you want.”
“I want to do it,” I said, clear and straight and loud.
“You can think about it. You don’t have to decide right now.”
“I know that. But I don’t think there’s much doubt. I mean, everything that you’ve said makes me want to do it. It just seems like an opportunity, and I’m really grateful that you asked me.”
“We asked you because you’re good enough. That’s the basis of the offer. You seem like a nice fellow and everything, but it’s not an act of kindness.”
“I understand that. But you can count me in.”
He smiled at me.
“Why don’t we talk about it again next week, after you’ve had a bit of time to cool off? You should think it over, consider those things I’ve told you. What you would be giving up is real. I’m very hopeful for this company but that doesn’t guarantee anything.”
“I know,” I said. “I would be taking a chance.”
“And some people wouldn’t do that when they already have a more secure option.”
“I understand,” I said.
“I’ll be in touch with you anyway,” he said, standing. “Thanks for giving up your Sunday to be here. I’m sure you’ve other places you’d rather be.”
“Happy to have come,” I said. “Thank you.” We shook hands. I wanted to tell him that at this point in my life it felt like the perfect thing to do, something unexpected and brave, but if I started down that road, there was a chance that I might end up crying or hugging him. I felt shaky.
“By the way,” he said as we were walking back over to the party, “you understand that this is a sensitive issue. The bank would not be happy if they thought I was poaching their best people.” I nodded, my face serious, intense.
“I know,” I said. “I won’t say anything.”
“To anyone,” he said as he drifted off toward his wife.
Frank was still in the same place, talking to Sara. They looked up when I came back.
“Everything all right?” Frank asked me.
“Yeah. Fine.”
“Get yourself a drink,” he said. “He’ll be kicking us out soon.”
It didn’t seem to me that I had been doing more than anybody else. Nobody seemed to be slacking, and they all were capable. I couldn’t think what I had done to make him notice me. I was new, and I was pretty quick. I kept my head down and said nothing. Smiled at everyone I saw. Was that enough? Would that be enough to get me ahead in life?
I told no one. I said nothing to my parents or to Alex or Camille when they rang to find out how I had got on. It was a barbecue,
I said. That’s all it was. I didn’t see Frank much that week at work. One morning I arrived at the same time as him, and we took the lift up alone together in silence. I don’t know if it was the chance that somebody else might get in, or if talking about the job in that building just felt too risky. Whatever it was, neither of us spoke. When the door dinged and opened, we walked out together.
“It’ll be a quiet office,” he said in a low voice, and I smiled.
I was out with Alex on the Friday night in a pub in town. I had stopped off to meet him on my way home; he was going on to a party somewhere else. I didn’t want to say anything to him about the job until it was finalized. I was going home to watch television and looking forward to bed at ten o’clock. Nothing would keep me from sleep.
“What are you doing this weekend?” he asked.
“Nothing. There were people from work going out tonight, but I wasn’t up to it.”
“What’s wrong with you?”
“I’m tired.”
“Tired? What the fuck is that?”
“I get up at six o’clock. Five days a week. What do you do in the morning?”
“I can tell you what I do in the morning,” he said. “But I don’t think you’ll want to hear it.”
“Probably not.”
“How about tomorrow? Do you want to do something?”
“Maybe,” I said. “In the evening.”
“That suits me anyway. Tonight might be big. There are things planned.”
“What kind of things?”
“Fun things that involve being up all night and feeling very shit tomorrow.”
“Fair enough,” I said. He probably wanted me to ask more, but I was distracted.
“Hopefully I’ll give you a call. I haven’t seen much of Camille this week, so there’s a danger she’ll want to catch up. Quality time.” I looked at him, noticing his tone. He shrugged.
“What?”
“That sounds all right to me,” I said.
He laughed, dry.
“Whose side are you on?”
“I didn’t know I had to pick sides. I didn’t know there was a choice.”
“Of course there is. There always is.”
“Right,” I said. “If you’re suggesting that I think more of her than I do of you, then I’m surprised there’s any doubt. You’re rude and lazy and you treat me very badly—”
“Not true,” he said.
“And she’s just beautiful and fun and intelligent. There’s no contest.” He laughed into his glass, a bitter little private joke. “What?” I said. “Is there something else?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re sure?” I knew he’d say it. If it was the first drink, he wouldn’t, but now he was off. Nothing would stop him.
“Just . . .” He hesitated. “You should try going out with her for a while.”
“I gave it a shot,” I said. “You know that.” He looked at me for a second. Then nodded and smiled. As the smile faded, he spoke again.
“Yeah, well. It’s not as good as it looks.” I got distracted, thinking that it must be. I couldn’t imagine how it would be otherwise. For all the things he complained about, it seemed to me that she just wanted what was good for him. I didn’t know what to say to him now, so I said nothing. “I’m not complaining,” he said then, “but it isn’t all just fun and games. She can be hard work sometimes.”
“Isn’t everybody?” I said.
There was something wrong with him, a sadness or an uncertainty. The conversation was too muddled for me to be sure what was happening. I felt I should ask him if he was all right. Just one more question to be sure. But then he seemed to come to suddenly, the window into his vulnerability and frustration closed tight, and his face told me that he was building up to something.
“It could have been you,” he said. “Complaining to me in a pub about this girl. You boring the arse off me for a change.”
“I wouldn’t,” I said. “I never would.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. “You have just no idea.”
He leaned forward to order another round, and when he came back to me, the evening went on as if nothing had happened, as if none of it had been said. I could feel the anger burning in my throat and in my chest. It showed in my hand that shook as I drank. I’m sure he could tell what was going on with me, but to hear him talk, to see him laughing and joking, you would never have known.
The second time, I took a taxi to O’Toole’s house. I told him I would do it. We talked about money and how the structure would work with shares and bonuses, and he made it sound like I would be doing very well. He was less cautious than he’d been the previous week, and I was glad of it. The endless qualification of everything took the fun out of it. We were setting up a company. He told me about the product and how he was hoping that we could get a patent for it. If we did, he said, we could be talking about a lot of money. He said nothing would be happening for a couple of months, and that they were hoping to start in November, so I should aim to be available then. I should work until October and give a couple of weeks’ notice.
I walked back along that endless road with nobody around me, nobody knowing where I was or what I was doing. I had fed off his enthusiasm. I believed in him and in the product and in the other people that he had chosen to set this up. I believed in myself, in my own ability to hold my own no matter what was put in front of me. Wherever it had come from, I realized now that when it came to work I was good at what I did, better than most people. If a manager with a multinational bank could see it in me, why hadn’t I? I saw it now. I could see it and feel it and believe as I walked over the hill along this beautiful road under the trees past the houses with names and views and driveways and gates.
What would Camille think when she heard? For me to get a job like this, to be chosen from a crowd, to be poached in a way that had to be kept quiet, would surely say something to her. I could admit to myself that I wanted her to notice this and see it for what it was. To see me not just as Alex’s friend but as somebody different, a person of value and intelligence, a prodigy. The recklessness of what I was doing would appeal to her, I thought. I was turning my back on certainty, the plodding predictability of going straight from college to a job in the bank. I was taking a chance, going with my instinct rather than my head. I hoped she would see what a big deal it was for me and would understand what it said about how much I had changed, even in the short time that we’d known each other. I hoped she would see it, because I had done it with her present in my mind.
It was later on that night. We were in some place in town with friends of hers, people I didn’t know. I waited until Alex asked what I’d done that day, though it nearly killed me.
“I went back out to my boss’s house.”
“Is that a regular thing now?” Camille said.
“He asked me back. Just me.”
“If this story ends the way I hope it’s going to,” Alex said, “I will say I told you so.”
“He was offering me a job.”
“What kind of job?”
“He’s leaving the company and setting up on his own. He’s taking a couple of people from the bank with him. He wants me to go as well.”
“Wow,” she said.
“What kind of thing is he doing?” Alex asked.
“It’s a software company. He has money behind him, he says, and he’s talking about stock options and dividends and a whole load of stuff that I don’t understand. But I don’t need to. Basically if it takes off, I could do really well. And if it doesn’t, what have I lost? A job in a bank. I can get another of those if I want.”
“That’s brilliant,” Alex said. “It’s just great. Why does this guy want to hire you? Is he sure? Are you very good at what you do?”
/> “He seems to think so. Because I am. I can be modest tomorrow. He told me that I am extremely talented, and he should know.”
“Good man,” Alex said. “I’m so happy.” He put an arm around my neck and pulled me to him. “You’re a star,” he said. I wanted to cry, I felt so close to him then. I couldn’t say anything.
“Well done,” she said, all smiley and warm. “That’s great.” She hugged me and kissed the side of my face.
“Thanks,” I said in her ear.
“I’m so happy for you.”
“So when do you start?” Alex asked.
“Not for a few months. I don’t know. I can’t say anything at work. I’ll just keep working away and then give notice in a while, say it’s not for me or whatever. Then we’ll get going.”
“It’s just a great thing to do,” he said. “Such a cool thing to be involved in.”
“I know,” I said. “I hope it works out.”
“It will,” he said. “I know it will.”
Chapter Ten
When I woke the following Saturday, I knew from the light on my bedroom wall that it was a day for being outside. I had a shower and went out to get the paper and a coffee. It was only nine o’clock and it was already hot, the street full of older guys that couldn’t sleep any more, all nervous white flesh and shorts and sandals, out buying little treats for their families. Pastries and bagels and chocolate and strawberries. Bringing home breakfasts for the patios and balconies. I had nowhere for that, nowhere to lie around outside, but I could go to the park. I could keep walking into town and buy food and beer and go home, get a rug and something to read, and cycle over, spend the afternoon in the middle of nowhere with no one. There was a pleasure to be had in that, being out there on my own, feeling the sun, smelling the grass. The thought made me happy. I was capable of finding the perfect solution to a day like this on my own.
It didn’t seem true though when Alex rang to ask what I was doing and I told him nothing, that I was around. He was working on an ad for a friend and would be finished by two. I said we could get food and go to the park, as if I had just thought of it. He said it was a great idea and that they would be on for it. Him and her. He’d ring her to check but he thought she’d be keen. If it was okay with me, he said then, hesitating, sensitive just in case, and I said yes, absolutely. Of course.