Zoe 106

It was the first day back to work after Christmas. I had completed two jobs before eight o'clock. My slate for the day held seven addresses, all of which I had keys for.

The post-Christmas blues didn't affect me since I lost my beautiful wife at the hands of a drunken driver four years previously. My world collapsed. I withdrew into myself and shut out everyone who was close to me.

I'm Danny. My wife, Jess, died at forty-six years of age. Jess was four years younger than I. We had two children who now live in America with their spouses and children.

This Christmas I checked into a hotel in Ireland, and it was a peaceful few days whiled away reading and watching tv.

My next call was a thirty-minute drive away through the city, so I stopped off at a coffee shop in Speke, close to the John Lennon airport, and grabbed a coffee to go.

I work with builders surveying domestic work and signing off on the regulatory compliance of their jobs. I've a decent relationship with my clients and have been at it for over ten years.

I was flying. I completed my third call and jumped into the car to head to the fourth. Halfway there the phone rang. It was one of my larger clients. I had attended their Christmas night out and discussed a large development of house units, so I assumed that the call was in relation to that.

"Home for the criminally deranged," I said.

"Danny?" The female voice asked hesitantly. It was the company office manager.

"Zoe?"

"Yes, sorry for disturbing you. I know you're busy,"

"No problem," I said, "Happy New Year, how was your Christmas."

"Happy New Year. It was good. You?"

"Quiet. You know yourself. I was a bit disappointed when that poor girl in Selling Sunset turned gay. Apart from that I survived."

She laughed.

"So, were you drunk and refusing to fight at the party? I asked.

"I couldn't fight. I left my boxing gloves at home."

"Good idea. So, what can I do you for?"

"I just have a question about the party."

"Okay."

"I really enjoyed our conversation that night. It was the best laugh I've had for ages."

"Yes, I did too."

"But you left abruptly, and I thought we'd made a connection. I thought I may have done something because I was '

under the weather'

, if you get my drift," she laughed.

"No, you were great. Your boss dragged me into a conversation about work so that distracted me from everything else. I left after I escaped from him. I'm sorry if I made you feel like that."

"I'm relieved," she said, "and I'm sorry for bothering you with it."

"No problem, Zoe, thanks for taking the time to call. I'm just at my next job and there's a strange woman staring at me through her front window. Talk soon!"

Shrugging the call off I carried on with my work and breezed through what remained of the day. I returned to my home office at a little after noon for lunch. Lunch was tinned soup, a toasted ham sandwich and a cup of tea followed by an afternoon at my desk to compile paperwork. As the food cooked my thoughts returned to the phone call from Zoe.

Was I missing something? Should I call her back and clarify anything? Did I do something to offend her? I wasn't sure so I guessed it was the latter as offending someone isn't beyond the realm of possibility.

Zoe is the office manager in the offices of a large client. It wouldn't be good to ignore something in case I had caused offence. I resolved to call her later that afternoon.

I became engrossed in my work and the afternoon slipped quietly into evening. I had a call to make, and I put it on the long finger, until the phone rang from her office.

"City morgue?"

"Do you ever answer the phone in a normal way?" Zoe asked.

"Every time."

She laughed.

"What do you need, Zoe?"

"The big man wants to bend your ear; can you talk to him?"

"Yes."

"Great! I'll put you through."

"Before you do, Zoe. I was just about to call you. I'm worried I did something wrong at the party. Would you meet me for a drink some evening to discuss it?"

"Yes, of course, Danny. I'll text you my mobile number. You can call me later if you like."

I checked my watch. 4:00.

"Great! I'm busy here until seven. I'll give you a call after that."

"I can't wait," she said in a mocking tone before connecting me with her boss.

Some time later the growling of my stomach caused me to check my watch. 9:45. I grabbed my phone and found Zoe's text. I clicked on it and heard it ring.

"Hello," the voice said.

"Hello," I said, "Is Zoe available?"

"I'll get her for you, who's this, please?"

"I'm Danny, who are you?"

"I'm Tara."

"Nice name, Tara."

"Here's Zoe now."

"Thank you."

"Sorry about that," Zoe said.

"Is Tara your daughter?"

"Yes. She's a little madam, always must be first to answer the phone."

"I wonder where she gets that from."

"Probably her father."

"Listen, I'm really sorry about the hour. I got lost in work. I didn't want the evening to pass without calling."

"Not to worry. I'd heard you were a workaholic."

"I deserved that. It keeps me sane."

"It's no harm working hard but you should probably take time out occasionally."

"Yes, mother."

"So, what are you thinking?"

"Well, I'm thinking we could go eat somewhere during the week or the weekend."

"Ooh, fancy! That sounds lovely. Anywhere in mind?"

"There's an interesting food truck outside my house."

"I'm sure it's, erm, lovely? Tara's at her father's for the weekend. How's Saturday night?"

"Sounds like a plan. I'll book something and text you the details."

"Or you can call."

"Ok. I'll do that instead. Some evening at an undetermined time."

"Wise move."

"Not my first rodeo."

We ended the call, and I was sweating.

I was starving, so I ordered Chinese food and returned to complete my work. Twenty minutes later I took the elevator down to the lobby to collect it. On my way back up I thought back to the Christmas party.

It was one of those things that I never did. Ever since I lost Jess, I preferred my own company. To get me out of a funk I sold the family home because there was too much emotional baggage. I bought an apartment in a Liverpool Docks development overlooking the Mersey. It was a new beginning, a place where nobody could bother me.

Unfortunately, it didn't prevent me being assailed by invitations everywhere else. This one came during a site meeting, from Zoe's boss, Malcolm, a successful developer with large portfolios of clients, contracts and property across the UK and Europe.

Malcolm is effusive and impossible to turn down. I tried offering the excuse that I was travelling to Ireland for the Christmas break the next day. He wasn't hearing any of it and said I could leave early so I arrived an hour later than planned, looking clean and ready to party.

Although I knew many of the guys from the sites, I did not know most of the people there. There were more women than men, mostly employees' wives or girlfriends and the female office staff, one of whom was Zoe, who I had only ever interacted with by phone or email. I had no clue what she even looked like.

I spotted one of the foremen, Gerry, and made a beeline for him. Gerry's wife was standing between him and a fair-haired woman with whom they were passing the time. I was going to walk on by, but Gerry grabbed me like a man in the desert seeing a bottle of water.

We exchanged insults under the gaze of the two ladies and, before he had the chance to make an introduction, the fair-haired one grabbed me by the arm and screamed, "I know that voice! You're Danny Sheehan!"

I was initially surprised until I recognised her voice, it was Zoe. I smiled and stuck out my hand in greeting. "Great to finally meet you, Zoe," I said but she had other ideas and said, "Fuck that, I want a hug. I feel I've known you all my life."

Everyone laughed before I was kidnapped and brought over to a table inhabited by several other of the female office staff where Zoe introduced me to them all. I escaped with an excuse for a bathroom break and went outside for a smoke.

It was a cold Liverpool evening, and the facade of the building was sheltered by an overhanging canopy roof. I'd worn a heavier jacket and sweater, but the fingers of winter insinuated themselves between the gaps in my clothing. I found a sheltered nook off to the side of the main entrance and huddled into it as I lit a smoke and inhaled the life-saving nectar deeply. I noticed that the wind had had an effect on the status of my cigarette, and it was close to its demise. I reached into my pocket for another as the main door slid open and Zoe stepped outside with a slight shiver.

She was very striking. Standing a little less tall than my 5'9" with her straight blonde hair just below her chin and curled inward at the bottom.

She was quite slim, almost willowy, standing alone in low-rise heels, the hem of her pale blue dress peeking out below the beige trench coat she held closed across her front. In her hand she held a pack of smokes, she attempted to light one, but the breeze made it difficult. I strolled over and held the flame of my lighter, cupped in my two hands, to the tip of her smoke and she smiled as she inhaled the first drag.

"Do you light women's smokes often?"

"What can I say? I'm an arsonist. I need to set things on fire."

She laughed and almost choked on the smoke that caught in her throat. We chatted away aimlessly as we smoked, and it was very pleasant. She smiled a lot, was nice enough to laugh at my weak jokes and she made quite a few of her own. Her blue eyes laughed along with her, and they spoke silently when the conversation became less humorous. We kept it light and hardly mentioned work except when one of the company subcontractors walked by wearing a ridiculous pair of yellow shoes. We stubbed out our smokes and hurried inside when it became obvious that he was heading our way. As we hurried through the doors, she grabbed my arm for support and I had to reassure her that I didn't consider it an assault on my person.

As we warmed up in the vestibule, I assisted her in removing her coat, folded it and placed it on her arm.

"Thank you. You're quite the gentleman sometimes," she said as she fluttered her eyelids and smiled a demure smile. She was a very beautiful woman.

"As long as it's not life-threatening, I'm a veritable knight in shining armour."

She touched my face tenderly and was about to say something when Malcolm barged in and dragged me away for an important conversation about future work. I glanced at Zoe and held my hands up in mock horror in apology.

Nearly an hour later, I left Malcolm and his estimator to their own devices, saw it was getting on for midnight and went home to pack and to sleep. Although I had negotiated what could have been a difficult evening, I felt the satisfactory feeling of ending another year and having an entire fortnight off to relax or brood or whatever took my fancy. In my mind I was already on the flight to Dublin.

Entering my apartment, it occurred to me that it was more than possible that Zoe felt slighted by my disappearance from the party. I dismissed the notion that she was interested in me in more than a work-related capacity. After all, guessing that she was probably in her mid-thirties, the age gap was wide and, even if I was a supreme optimist, I was no prize in the looks department since I carried a few extra pounds and a lot less hair these days. I actually looked my age which didn't upset me but so, also, did Zoe. The more I thought it through the easier I felt in my mind that we were simply victims of a peculiar circumstance and were adult enough to be able to resolve the matter satisfactorily.

The next morning, I was on the road to Manchester for a job I had booked in a couple of weeks before Christmas. United were playing at home and the client was a director of the club which meant I'd be watching football from a corporate box. I deemed it important enough to stay over for a night, so I booked a hotel room right beside the stadium.

I found myself outside a block of houses in Salford. This was the biggest of four jobs I had booked in so it made sense to get it out of the way. I was to meet the developer, Austin, in the site office and he was already there with coffee, doughnuts and the makings of some breakfast sandwiches. I gleefully latched onto the coffee, speared a sausage and some toast, and joined him at his desk.

"Busy?" Austin asked.

"Yes. Out the door."

"Still hiding from life?"

"Not so much."

"How are the kids?"

"They're busy with their own kids. We had a Zoom meeting at New Year's. They seem happy, that's all I want for them."

I took out my phone and found pictures of them and the grandchildren and passed it over to him. His face brightened up, he was my daughter, Jessica's, godfather. He scrolled through a few more and then put the phone down on his desk.

"Ever thought about getting out of Liverpool?"

"Yes."

"Why not come to work with us," he said.

"I don't think that'd be a good idea. I'm still not the nicest bloke to be around. I'm better working for myself, besides, if I was to get out of Liverpool I'd be heading overseas."

"Where to? The States?"

"No. I've an offer from a mate in Ireland."

I got up to refill my coffee. When I turned back Austin had my phone in his hand. A text had come in and he was holding it out to me.

"Would you leave Zoe behind?" he said with a wink.

"What? Who?" I asked in confusion.

"It's about fucking time you met someone."

"No, Austin, this isn't anything. Zoe is Malcolm's office manager and I'm in the process of ironing out a misunderstanding with her. In fact, that text is, most probably, work related."

"Whatcha doin'?" he said.

"What?"

"That's the first line of the text. You'd better reply to her."

"Maybe later," I said, and put the phone away.

I felt tired that evening. It was a combination of the drive down, the work, the stress of Austin's constant harassment about Zoe, and the lingering unanswered text that mocked me on my phone. I was due to eat with Austin and his wife, Sammy, at their house, but I chose to order some room service, go through my paperwork from the day, and relax a little. Time got away from me and at 9:30, or so, I finished my work and ordered some food. I checked my phone to find another text from Zoe, so I hit the call button.

"Hi, Danny," she said enthusiastically.

"Hey, Zoe. I got your texts just now. Is it ok to call so late?"

"Of course. What's happening?"

"In Ireland they say, '

What's the story?'

But there's always a story over there."

She laughed and said, "If you insist, what's the story?"

"Also, being Ireland, they shorten that to just

'story'

, in case of confusion."

"Okay."

"How are you doing?"

"Good. It's busy at the office and just as busy when I get home. Your name was taken in vain today."

"Oh! Was it scandalous?"

"No. Alison was supposed to call you about something, but you weren't answering."

"Yeah. That happens sometimes when I leave the phone in the car. I do that a lot while I'm inside a building."

"Why?"

"So I don't get delayed or distracted. I'll give her a bell in the morning. Do you know what it's about?"

"Malcolm was looking for you."

"Okay. That's fine. He must have forgotten I was out of town for a couple of days."

"Where are you?"

"Manchester. I do this every month."

"You didn't say you were going out of town."

"Should I have?"

"Well, if I'd known I wouldn't have disturbed you."

"I'm happy now that I didn't let on. You don't disturb me, Zoe, I like hearing from you even if it's just a two-word text. As long as the second word isn't 'off'."

I explained the Manchester connection and that I also do this in London and Newcastle. She was surprised but encouraging.

"When are you back home?" she asked.

"Thursday morning. Austin is bringing me to see a match tomorrow night. He has a private box, it's a win."

"Who's playing?"

"United and some pretenders from Belgium that I never heard of."

"Are you a United fan?"

"I might just be," I said, laughing. "Why? Are you?"

"I can't say. Tara is here."

"I'll get you a souvenir. What would you like?"

"Surprise me. Did you eat yet?"

"No. I've ordered room service."

"Good idea. Danny, I must get this child to bed. Enjoy your food and sleep well."

"You too, Zoe."

Next morning, I was awake at 6:00, outside the hotel having a smoke ten minutes later, and walking in for breakfast at 6:30. I texted Zoe, 'Good morning. Thanks for last night' and put my phone away. When I walked out of the dining room at 7:30, my phone chirped a reply.

"Are you working all day?"

Enthused, I hit the call button.

"A policeman wouldn't ask me that."

I could hear her collapsing with laughter. It was infectious and I could only join her. It took a little time for her to recover.

"Well? Are you?"

"Working all day?"

"Yes."

"Until about noon. Why?"

"I was thinking that waiting until Saturday is silly at our age."

"Possibly. What are you thinking?"

"Tara wants to go stay with my sister until Friday and I'm owed a bit of time off. There's a train gets into Piccadilly, Manchester at three o'clock from Lime Street."

"Are you gonna be on it?"

"I was thinking that, if you agreed, I could be."

"I'll be in Piccadilly at two. Can't wait. Do you want me to book you a ticket?"

"I already booked one."

It was my turn to howl with laughter which attracted much ire from a couple of older women who were making their way into the dining room.

"I should have guessed. Now I'd better get to work so I'm on time. See you at three."

As I walked to the car I took in my surroundings. This hotel was okay for an overnight visit. It was very utilitarian and was a monument to all things Manchester United with very little other influences. Somewhat akin to The Hard Day's Night hotel in Liverpool, where Beatles music is played on a continuous loop and, with the best will in the world, would drive anyone who is a guest there for more than an hour around the bend.

Also, it was one room with a standard double bed. I'd need to get a second room for Zoe, but it was booked solid for the match that night. I returned to my room and hit the web where I found a more luxurious hotel only five minutes away beside the cricket stadium. They had no rooms available except a suite which held a folding bed as separate accommodation. It looked ideal, so I booked it for the night. I then cancelled the extra night in my current room, packed my stuff and left for work feeling happier with things.

My head was spinning as I left the hotel. On my way out I caught sight of my reflection in a glass door, and it immediately caused the anxiety and doubt to return in full force. What was I doing? How was this going to end? Who did I think I was fooling more? Zoe or myself?

I stopped outside to collect my thoughts and emotions and lit a smoke. I knew that I'd worry myself into a state of high anxiety if I let my mind wander. I needed a distraction, so I switched my brain into work mode and headed out into the fray.

Given the delayed start to the day, I was slightly beyond my estimated arrival time at Piccadilly Station by about thirty minutes. This was acceptable since I had two more inspections thrown at me out of the blue. It was just the curve ball I needed to keep my head level.

I found the platform I needed and then sought out a coffee shop. At 2:55 I was at the gate waiting for Zoe's train. According to the platform board, it was on time. I sipped absentmindedly on the coffee that I didn't really want. All it was doing was enhancing the Damoclean feelings of dread and doom which put flight to the butterflies in my stomach. Curiously, though, it made me feel alive. It was something I hadn't felt in a really long time. As the train pulled into the station, the feeling persisted and grew. I felt physically sick. Then I saw Zoe alighting the train. She looked up, saw me and waved. She smiled broadly. She looked happy to see me.