I didn’t have anyone to invite to a housewarming.
I didn’t have any friends.
I think I had a friend once, a good friend. But I don’t really know where I know him from and why we’re no longer friends.
I closed my eyes and tried to reach further into my memory banks.
I ate the same meal every night. I did this because I knew what was inside it. What ingredients had been used. I was afraid of strange foods and strange ingredients and allergic reactions to them.
For lunch I ate an apple and a protein bar. To keep my sugar levels up, but balancing them with protein. I was afraid of sugar-level spikes, and diabetes. But I wasn’t a diabetic. I was also afraid of nuts, in case I went into anaphylactic shock.
I was afraid of lots of things.
I reached further into my memories, but kept hitting a blank at certain points. I could remember parts of my life from the age of nineteen upwards, but there were still gaps. And then I could remember nothing in the weeks leading up to the elevator accident. I strained, I tried to pull more memories out, but nothing else was coming.
My head spun and I held onto the kitchen counter even tighter. It felt like I was caught in the middle of a hurricane of memories, swirling around me, fast. It felt like I had to hold on so that I didn’t get swept up in the rush of them and fall over. I thought about Noah suddenly, and the desire to call him and tell him about what I knew was overwhelming, only I didn’t have his number, and then I remembered how I’d pushed him away and that made me feel like crying.
I poured myself a cup of green tea. It’s the only tea I drink. It’s rich in antioxidants and has been proven to lower your risk of getting certain cancers. But only two cups a day, too much caffeine otherwise, and never coffee. I moved back over to the couch and sat down again, sipping on my tea as I watched the rest of my memories play out in my head. Flipping from one to the other. And as they flipped, it became more and more clear to me that in the last several years nothing of any significance or importance had happened to me. And for some reason, that was the way I wanted it. But I didn’t know why. Why would I want to lead such a routine, boring and regimented life? Where every aspect of my day was planned and controlled.
I finished my tea and looked around the room again.This was my life.This one here, in front of me that I could touch and feel and see and drink. Last week had been some fantasy role play in how things might have been, but now I knew that they couldn’t ever be like that, no matter what Noah or some stupid drugstore psychic said. I had such a desire to phone Andi and tell her it was a good thing that she had never bloody quit her day job, because clearly she had gotten me so wrong . . .
And I had gotten me so wrong too.
CHAPTER 35
“Hi, hi,” I said, walking into the open-plan section of the office. It had taken exactly ten minutes to walk to work. It could have taken five if I’d wanted, but I preferred taking the long way round so I didn’t have to cross at the busy intersection that cars often went racing through without paying attention.
I stood there and looked out over the desks filled with cool-looking people. I knew each and every one of them. The copywriters were on one side of the office and the designers on the other. The creative directors had their own offices, but they all looked out over the open-plan section, so I was in their sights. I was in everybody’s sights, but no one looked up at me.
“Okay, cool, nice to see you too . . .” I mumbled and then walked towards my office. I remembered exactly where it was. Through the cool industrial open-plan with the exposed electrical cabling and copper piping on the walls and ceiling. I walked all the way through to where the kitchen and bar for after-work functions was. A few people were milling around in the kitchen, drinking coffee. The barista with the twisty moustache was there, serving coffees with little flowers and hearts sculpted into the foam. A group of my co-workers were standing around laughing and talking as they sipped their artisanal coffees. I moved closer to listen to the conversation.
“Yeah, we should totally do something for Gareth’s birthday. He’s turning thirty,” Ash, a blonde-haired girl with big, black-framed glasses, said. She always wore these seriously oversized glasses. A couple of months ago they were pink, but she’d accidentally stood on them at the office party to celebrate the company’s win at the SA Advert Awards.
“Totally,” Dave, the guy who was wearing purple eye shadow, said. He always wore eye shadow, and now that I was looking, he really did pull it off.
“We should do a surprise party!” Nonhlanhla piped up. I noticed that her braids were now blue. Last week she’d had red braids. The blue was really cool against her dark skin.
“Oh my God, we should do a nineties-themed party, cos he was born in the nineties!” Ash said.
“OMG, that’s brilliant,” Nonhlanhla, or Nonnie as everyone called her, replied. “I’ll come as Beyoncé, but Destiny’s Child Beyoncé.”
“I’ll come as Britney. ‘Slave for You’ vibe. With a snake!”
“Oh, that would be awesome if you got a fucking snake!” Dave said, jumping up and down.
“That’s a nice idea,” I said, “Gareth deserves a party. He works really hard. He clocks more working hours a month than anyone else.”
Silence. A weird one as everyone turned and looked at me. Their eyes swept over me, up and down. Left to right. Up and down again.
“Uh . . . yeah. He does,” Nonnie mumbled, looking a little confused.
“Also, ‘Slave for You’ came out in 2001, so either you must have a noughties party, or choose to come as someone else,” I said, smiling at all my co-workers. And then I turned and started walking towards my office. They must have thought I was out of earshot, but I wasn’t.
“Uh . . . who was that?” Dave asked.
“No idea,” Ash replied.
“Like, literally, who is that?” Nonnie added.
