Page 14

The name tag read Anoushka , and her smile was as blinding as her teeth, but the girl was a welcome sight, putting a plate of breakfast pastries in front of me .

“Very well, thank you,” I said, slurping saliva back into my mouth.

“How do you take your coffee, sir? And can I offer you a morning paper while you wait? Should you require any other breakfast items, we have a small buffet offering on the side. Please just ask if there is anything else I can do for you. The staff will come for you when you are required.”

“Thank you.”

This was more like a fine hotel than a driver’s lounge. Impressed wasn’t even the start of it.

“Finally,” Anoushka said with another glittering smile, “can I just take a name for our records?”

“Stewart,” I started, only to be interrupted by a familiar voice behind me.

“Stewart Schiller,” Mabel mused. “Thank you, Anoushka. Can you arrange for whatever Mr Schiller has requested to be served in my office?”

“Absolutely,” she said, as I stood up and found myself face-to-face with Mabel Donovan, former head waiter at my former place of employment. I’d known them for years. Seen them rise and fall, through ups and downs, always with a smile on their pretty face .

Mabel Donovan.

Or perhaps they went by another name these days, but Mabel was still Mabel and looked as glamorous as ever. Also apparently the manager here. A little older, a little less pale, the make-up perhaps toned down to more subtle shades, but the glint in their eyes? Mischief galore.

“Give us a hug,” they demanded, sweeping me up in gentle perfume and swishy fabrics. Silk. Fingernails against my wrists. “Come. I need all the gossip.”

“Not much gossip to give, to be honest,” I admitted a while later, sat in a plush seat in Mabel’s office, having downed two excellent coffees and stuffed my face with crisp French pastries while Mabel laughed at my antics.

“Says the man who lives with two very interesting men.”

“And even more interesting grandchildren. I’m old and mostly unemployed, Mabel.”

“You also drive celebrities around, and now you’re in some kind of cahoots with Gun Larsen.”

“Slight exaggeration there,” I scolded them. “Just driving.”

“When Gun Larsen tells me to look after a special guest, I doubt it’s because of his excellent driving skills.

Anyways, you’re Stewart, and you will always be a VIP to me.

All you old Clouds people are. Did you know that I managed to get Hugo on board to deal with our events?

Took me a while to track him down, but he’s starting next week. ”

“Hugo?” My brain swirled, trying to put itself back in time, adding faces to names. Oh. Hugo. Of course.

“I’m picking off my favourites, one by one. The good ones. The Clouds will just be hot air by next year, run by children and money-hungry idiots.”

They still made me laugh, and more than that, I was thrilled to be sitting here watching them in an environment that clearly agreed with them.

“You look good,” I said, wiping the corner of my mouth and trying to remove the crumbs from my tie. I was covered in them, having temporarily forgotten my manners. “Sorry, didn’t get the chance to have breakfast.”

“I rarely do. I’m usually here from five in the morning if we have certain members in residence. And our patisserie chef is excellent, if I do say so myself.”

“They are excellent,” I agreed. “But gossip. How are you?”

“Married?” They laughed, flashing an obscenely large rock in my face. “Also very happy. Life is a world away from what it was a few years back. I don’t know how I lasted so long in that place down by the river.”

“It was a bit of a mess, but only at the end. I haven’t been back. Still a bit raw. And yes, I agree about the hot air bit. The destruction was horrific.”

“Can’t escape it—I still live next door—but I know what you mean.

I walk past and look for a friendly face, and these days, there’s none.

There’s security outside at night, but that’s about it.

And the restaurant is a chain chicken set-up, with a Costa in the lobby.

Can you imagine? Mr Klutz, rest his soul, would have had a fit, had he known. ”

“He ran a tight ship,” I agreed, revisiting the memories. “I was happy there. It’s taken a long time for me to settle down with the fact that my career is over.”

“Never too late to start fresh,” they said quietly. “Just look at me. But have you started over?”

“I…” I was blushing, stuttering out syllables with no idea what I was trying to say.

Starting over? Had I? Not really. I was just trying to survive day by day and getting more and more confused with every single second ticking by.

“Can I ask you something?” I said, shifting in the seat. “For a friend. ”

“For a friend,” they drawled, not even attempting to hide the eye roll. “It’s always for a friend, Stewart. But go on. Ask away.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Why I am so scared of even… I don’t know. Trying?”

“Because we get comfortable in our environment, and it becomes a safety blanket. We’re safe with what we know.

Change is terrifying, whatever our circumstances.

Just from my experience, I was deeply unhappy but had no idea how to get out of my own life.

That’s a horrible place to be in. Are you unhappy? ”

“I…this… Damn it, Mabel. You know what it’s like. I’m not unhappy. How can I be? I have my family, my sanity, mostly, and my health. I live in a lovely home, and I should just accept my fate and start gardening or something. But at the same time…”

I was on a roll. Another cup of coffee mysteriously appeared in front of me, and Mabel sat there, like some unhinged therapist dressed in blue silk and high heels, crossing their legs and gently leaning forward like they expected me to spill my internal musings all over them.

“I have no friends. I have nobody to talk to, and I’m a lonely old man. I can accept that. I even talk to the postman to lighten up my day. I go to Tesco and then do a little work now and then. It should be enough, shouldn’t it?”

“Not necessarily. I think if I was stuck at home filing my nails and watching daytime TV, I would go mad. But that’s just me.”

I nodded vigorously. Been there, done that.

Minus the nail filing. I had no idea where all these words were coming from, but I was obviously just that.

Lonely. Sleep-deprived. Desperate for someone to talk to.

Because the postman had actually started to avoid me and my chatter.

I’d omitted that part from my little presentation.

But I still talked, a confession leaving my mouth in stuttered spurts.

“You live your whole life in one way, and then one day, you wake up and you’re suddenly a completely different person.

It’s exhausting. I have no idea who I am anymore.

No idea at all. I wonder what’s happened to me.

I am happy. I am satisfied. I don’t need anything or anyone because I have everything.

I don’t need anyone else to complicate my life. I really don’t.”

“So this is the issue?” Mabel was staring at me so intently I squirmed.

Too much. I had no idea what I was doing here, why I had chosen to spill all my secrets over a former colleague whom I barely knew. We’d never been close. Never talked about anything of substance apart from the weather and guest issues. And now I was doing this. Telling them…what, exactly?

“I’m sorry. I’m talking too much.”

“No, Stewart. You clearly have a lot going on in that head of yours. And if there is something I do know? Talking is helpful. If I can just remind you that in another part of my life, I wear a different hat. As a licensed therapist, I’m bound by certain privileges.

Anything you tell me here, I will not pass on to anyone else.

I’m absolutely honoured to listen to your thoughts.

And if I can offer you any advice, I will gladly do so. ”

Very Mabel. And I was suddenly torn.

I wanted to tell them everything, but at the same time, what was I doing here?

This, apparently, as I shuffled in my seat and cleared my throat.

“I’ve always been a totally straight guy, but now I’m thinking—have I wasted my entire life looking for something in the wrong places? Do I even want it? I don’t want it. I don’t want to meet someone, and I don’t want anything else to change, and I most definitely do not want to…”

“Go on,” they encouraged quietly. “Get to the issue.”

“I don’t even know what the issue is.”

“You’ve met someone, and there is something there.”

Perceptive.

They always had been.

“And it frightens you, because it would be a huge change again. And you’ve already had enough upheaval, and you’re wondering if it would all be worth it.”

“Something like that,” I admitted, sinking back into the chair. Relief. I think that was what was flooding through me.

“How do you know if it’s worth it if you don’t try?” they asked, picking up a piece of pastry from the almost empty plate, taking a small bite as they waited for me to respond.

“Because if I crash and burn, I still have to live my life afterwards. And nothing will ever be the same again.”

“We all crash and burn. And we all get back up and dust ourselves down. It’s a very human thing. ”

“Maybe I’m just not built for it. And I’m wondering if I’m even having these thoughts for the right reasons.

Maybe I just look at my son and see all the happiness he has, and in a twisted, weird way, I think that if I go nab myself…

” I lowered my voice. Shame. I hated that I felt it.

“If I dated a man, that his happiness would somehow rub off on me.”

“Oh, Stewart.” They laughed out loud, only adding to my anxiety.

“It’s a legitimate concern,” I countered, feeling the redness in my cheeks threaten to overwhelm me.

“Stewart, if you have fallen in love with someone—whoever it is—that person will be the luckiest person in the world. Because that is who you are. You are a genuinely nice man. Sometimes a bit too nice. Often stern and almost unapproachable, but that’s what made you so good at your job.

Your old job. And you know, should you wish to put in some hours here, there are always shifts I can fill.

But…I think that would be a step back for you.

You need to walk forward, not back. And right now… ”

“Yes?”

I was hoping for miracles. Wise words. Simple solutions to all my problems from this person in front of me. Someone who had been where I was…maybe .

What did I know? I shook my head.

“Does this person know you hold affection for them?”

“No. Of course not.”

“Do they show affection for you back?”

“He’s a straight guy. A father. No rainbow flags in sight.”

My blush got worse. What was I saying?

“It’s not always about that. Or about showing who you are on the inside on the outside.

Not everyone is like me. I’m obvious. My dear husband?

Straight-presenting as anything. You’d never know, apart from how he looks at me.

That’s where you have to start. Give him smiles.

Touch his arm. Tell him how much you appreciate his friendship. Then take it from there.”

“Sounds like a friendship,” I mumbled.

“Do you want it to be? Or do you want the whole intimacy part too?”

Did I?

It felt like another gut punch. I didn’t know. I had no idea. I had no clue what I wanted. I was jumping the gun, getting way ahead of the game, and I hadn’t thought any of it through. I was flustered. Losing my mind .

“Mr Schiller, you’re needed.”

Anoushka appeared out of nowhere. What was it with this place, full of ghosts walking through walls?

“Stewart, here’s my card.” Mabel shoved it into my hand.

“I’ve put my private number on the back.

Call me. Anytime. Send me a text. Come over for a coffee.

If you need to talk, I will always listen.

But don’t be scared of taking that leap.

Try. Because if you don’t, you’ll spend the rest of your life wondering what if . ”

“I know,” I said. And I actually did.