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One
Tal hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on his colleagues. Now he couldn’t move without it looking as though that was exactly what he’d been doing.
“And have you seen what the Robot’s wearing? A three-piece suit and a tie? What the hell? This is a Christmas party, not a funeral!”
Tal was fond of his charcoal suit. So fuck you, Peters! As for the ‘Robot’ comment, Tal had been called that at school but he hadn’t known people at work were doing it too. It was…disappointing.
“He’s a brilliant architect, but he can be a bit of an arsehole,” Watson said.
The brilliant part was fine. A bit of an arsehole was not.
“Does the guy even knowhowto enjoy himself?”
Yes, Watson.I bloody do!Though it had been a while. His heart was still heavy with the damage done by Dorian.
“Doubtful. He has zero sense of humour.”
Tal clenched his teeth. There was nothing wrong with his sense of humour.
“Do you think he lives on top of a snowy mountain with a dog called Max?”
“No, he’d need to be green for that. He’s always monochrome. Haven’t you noticed?”
Tal frowned. Green? And who had a dog called Max?
“Maddox should check he still has that pile of presents under the tree at the end of the evening.”
The pair burst out laughing.
Oh. Now Tal got it. The Grinch. He sucked in his cheeks. The two having the bitchy conversation about him chortled as they continued to find fault.Cold, unreasonable, socially inept, selfish, pedantic, somewhere on the spectrum but with norainbow in his vicinity…He didn’t want or need to hear more. Tal didn’t think he was that bad and he really hoped these two were the only ones who felt like that about him. He’d had to have a word with Peters about a mistake he’d made in a drawing and the guy had turned defensive, then belligerent.
Tal didn’t think it was the way he’d told him, a mistake was a mistake, but maybe it was. His emotional intelligence sometimes let him down. Watson was just a sycophant who’d say what he needed to at any particular moment in order to gain whatever advantage he could. Tal had no respect for men like that.
Unfortunately, if Tal didn’t want to betray his presence, he had to stay where he was. At least they weren’t being homophobic. Yet. It was tempting to stand up and watch them attempt to backtrack. They’d probably claim they weren’t talking about him, but they obviously were. When they’d come into the room, Tal had been crouched down, looking at the books on the lowest shelf of his boss’s extensive and impressive library. He’d recognised their voices. Until they left, he was trapped behind this big leather chair, unless he wanted to make things awkward.
He didn’t want to make things awkward. Especially not at his boss’s Christmas party. That would not be sensible. He’d only been persuaded to come because Maddox had threatened to give him the Herschel job if he didn’t and Tal really didn’t want to do any more work for a man who constantly changed his mind. It made him spiral.
It wasn’t just employees of Maddox Stevens Architectural Services who were at the party, but the firm’s major clients too, including property developer Simon Herschel. Tal had shaken hands, smiled where appropriate and tried to ask the right sort of questions about people’s families, or their plans for Christmas. Luckily, he had an exceptionally good memory, evenfor things he didn’t want to remember, such as Herschel’s eldest daughter’s talent for ballet and his son’s brilliance at maths.
Regrettably, Tal found it hard to strike precisely the right note in conversations with people he didn’t know—and on occasion with those he did know. Probably because he was uncomfortable in most social situations. It was easier to avoid talking to anyone, which was the reason he’d escaped to the library. Throughout his life, he’d done a lot of escaping.
The pair left the room in search of more to drink and Tal pushed to his feet. Nine thirty wasn’t too early to leave, was it? He’d arrived at seven as the invitation had stated, only to find he was the first one there. That often happened but Tal couldn’t change the way he behaved. If an invitation said seven, he arrived at seven. Precisely. While he’d waited for other people to arrive, he’d had a chat with Maddox’s ten-year-old daughter about penguins. The most interesting conversation of the evening, so far. Though he wasn’t sure when he’d use the information that penguins pooped every twenty minutes. Though wasn’t that true of most largish birds?
Tal mentally groaned. If he was thinking about bird poop, then he’d been here long enough, particularly when he had somewhere else to be. Once he’d seen Maddox, he’d leave. He made his way towards the main room.
This was a lovely house, built in 1819. From the front it was a handsome traditional Georgian property, but at the rear it had been transformed into a modern, some might say, monstrosity. Tal was on the fence. The extension had good and bad elements. Practical and useful if rather ugly. Maddox’s main home was in Surrey. That house was spectacular; all curves and fluid lines, its sedum roof allowing it to blend into the contours of the land.
He spotted Maddox standing with Herschel next to a Christmas tree with presents piled at the base. They looked professionally wrapped with beautifully tied bows which madeTal speculate if there was anything inside the boxes. Did the ten-year-old not believe Santa brought the presents on Christmas Eve? Maybe these were just the gifts for the adults. Tal thought about his own house; the lack of a tree, the non-existent presents. He’d told his two best friends not to buy him anything, so he shouldn’t complain.
This tree almost reached the ceiling of the double height glass-fronted extension. The first time he’d been here, Tal thought the iron-framed addition to the house looked like the entrance to a shopping mall. He had enough sense not to say that. It had taken him years to learn to filter what came out of his mouth. Speaking the truth was fraught with difficulties.
Tal briefly wondered how the tree had been manoeuvred inside before registering it was fake and came in pieces. Maddox had to have the biggest and best of everything, or rather he had to be seen to have the biggest and best. Narcissism wasn’t an attractive character trait, yet it could be useful in the right circumstances.
He crossed the room, bypassing serving staff carrying trays of drinks and canapés, and waited to move in as soon as Herschel stepped away, hoping the client didn’t spot him before or after. Tal breathed a sigh of relief when Herschel turned in the opposite direction.
“Having a good time?” Maddox asked.
“Lovely. Thank you for inviting me. I have to go now. Have a good Christmas. I’ll see you in the New Year.”
