THURSDAY

This time I’m the one who is late. I’d had a cat emergency, Whiskers had left me a gift, a partially digested, totally unrecognisable gift that I discovered just as I was about to leave home. Therefore I missed the first bus and had to wait twenty minutes for the next one. I ran from the bus station, all the way to work. Lucky I’m fit and in the habit of working out.

The foyer is empty as I race through the glass sliding doors and my heart sinks with disappointment. She isn’t there, I’ve missed her this morning, thanks to my bloody cat. The last elevator is just closing as I arrive in a breathless rush, and I run to try to catch it before it shuts. A small hand reaches out to catch the door and it bounces open. 

There she is, my Eleanor. She smiles and steps back into her corner as I enter. A sound emerges from my mouth, it’s meant to be words of thanks, but I don’t think she hears them. I’m not even sure I spoke the English Language. Perhaps it was Neanderthal. I believe that’s a language I’m fluent in, especially if you ask my mother.

My turn to be late today, I would tell her. My cat. He’s a little bit feral still, even after fifteen years of the good life. He left a partially digested mouse in my foyer and I had to deal with it just as I was ready to leave. Would that have been too much information? Would she be squeamish? No she’s a cat lover too. 

She would laugh and tell me a story about her cat. Kitty is so fat she wouldn’t be able to catch mice, poor love. She eats only the best gourmet cat food, poached in spring water.

Do you only have the one cat? I would ask

One is definitely enough, wouldn’t you agree? She would speak with a smile one that shows how much she loves her cat. I adore Kitty, but I’m not quite ready to be a crazy cat lady just yet. Do you only have the one cat?

Yes, Mr Whiskers was a feral kitten I found out the back of my parents place about fifteen years ago. He lives a great life with me and has me wrapped around his paw.

Cats are like that. You need to be very careful, because they will steal your heart in an instant.

And an instant is all it took, but I was already in love with my Eleanor, however the lift stops at my floor and I step out.

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FRIDAY

This is my last day on the late shift. George’s wife has recovered from her surgery and I will be going back to my usual shift on Monday. I’m so early this morning, that I pace restlessly about the foyer of our building, sipping on the cappuccino grande I picked up on the way to work. I am going to speak with Eleanor the moment I see her, I tell myself sternly. I’m going to ask her to the Jazz club, or coffee, or lunch, or just to exchange email addresses. Something. 

I pace the foyer some more, watching the minute hand on my watch creep closer and closer to twelve. I have to face it. Eleanor is not coming. Maybe she doesn’t work Friday, she could be only a part time employee. Maybe she is still studying while completing her internship and she is on campus every Friday. I admit defeat and enter the elevator. It closes grimly, no cry of “hold the lift!” is forthcoming and I ride it silently all the way to the twenty second floor. It’s the quietest lift I’ve taken all week.

This afternoon I have a heap of paperwork to finish up and sort out before I hand the files back to George on Monday, and so I am the last person in the office. Everyone else has clocked out and Dave, Maria and some others have headed off to The Craic for drinks. I wasn’t interested in loud, raucous fun. The Mike Freely Quartet was playing at The Duke, but I didn’t feel like sitting there alone, so I locked the office and walked toward the lifts, no spring in my step, just Friday exhaustion slowing me down.

I pressed the call button and waited, studying the tips of my scuffed shoes, without actually seeing them. Like an automaton, I shuffle into the elevator as the doors slide open.

“Hi,” the voice is soft. “Tough week?”

I snap my head up and see the other occupant sharing my lift. It’s Eleanor, and all of a sudden there is ‘Sunshine on a rainy day!’ I nod, unable to speak.

She smiles and sighs, “Me too.” This is the longest conversation we have ever had out loud!

It’s then that I notice that she is carrying a box, an A4 Reflex copy paper box, and it is full to the brim of personal effects. The item at the top catches my eye with its glinting gold plastic. A name plate, ‘Tamara Blank’. My mouth opens, then closes and I swallow. Tamara?

“It’s my last day,” she says.

The doors open on the ground floor and with a small sad smile she steps out before me. I hear her clipping heals tap across the marble floor toward the sliding glass exit, but I don’t move, and the elevator doors slowly shut in my face. I can see my reflection staring back at me in their shining metal surface.

‘Ah, look at all the lonely people’.

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End

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