You know the thing I'd do first

Chapter Two

Tracy McConnell sat at her desk, staring at her laptop, wondering what to write next. It was 9.30 in the evening and her barely touched cup of coffee had long since turned cold. She scrolled to the top of the document to read the essay question once again:

Describe the causal, macro and microeconomic factors that led to the collapse of Lehman Brothers in 2008.

It was not even a question. She enjoyed her subject and did not regret her choice of degree, yet, as with all of her academic experiences to date, there were aspects of it that did not interest her in the slightest.

She stood and took three deep breaths. Her essay had absorbed her attention too much to notice that the bedroom window was open on what was a cold April evening. Perhaps Louis had been in here doing his exercises earlier and had left it that way, as some kind of Spartan macho thing, Tracy thought.

Tracy closed the window. She looked around the room for motivation to return to her desk, but none of her trinkets, not even her little yellow bus, had their usual cheering effect.

Certainly Louis' 'half' of the room did not provide any. His wall was covered with posters of boxers and football players that she had never heard of. Most of the posters had a quote on them about how important it was to be 'better than the next guy' or something that essentially meant that.

She turned off her laptop and walked into the front room. Louis was watching ice hockey on the large flat screen TV. He had the blank expression of a man who was fully immersed in the sport on the screen in front of him, sipping occasionally from a bottle of beer in his left hand.

Tracy walked into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water and went to join Louis on the couch.

'How's the hockey?' she asked.

'Oh, well, The Rangers are losing,' he replied.

Tracy knew that The Rangers were the New York team, so she adopted what she hoped was an expression of vague annoyance. She could not help but feel that she had not disguised her indifference particularly well.

'How's the essay going? Louis asked.

'Oh, fine,' Tracy lied.

They returned to watching the hockey in silence. Louis put his arm around her shoulder and she shuffled along the sofa reluctantly, placing her glass of water on the table in front of them.

'How was work?' she asked.

'It was fine,' he replied.

At that point, she decided to give up on conversation with Louis for the evening. The team that were not The Rangers scored again. Louis scratched the back of his head and continued to stare at the screen. After another five minutes of hockey had passed, there was a knock on the door.

'Are you expecting anyone?' Louis asked.

'No, are you?' Tracy replied.

Louis shook his head. Tracy stood up and walked over to the door. She opened it. A man stood at the entrance, around six feet tall, wearing a brown jacket over a shirt and tie. He seemed to be rather anxious. In his left hand, he held a stack of leaflets. There was something familiar about him, though Tracy could not quite place it.

'Hi,' he said.

'Hi,' she replied.

There was a long pause in which he seemed to be looking past her, towards Louis, then his gaze returned to hers gradually.

'Can I help you?' Tracy asked.

'Oh, yeah, I'm handing out leaflets for a bar just down the road – MacLaren's. My friend Carl owns it. Anyway, it's a really good Irish Bar. You should try it out,' he said.

'Ah, yeah, I know it. Although, originally I thought it was called something else,' Tracy replied.

'Oh, what was that?'

'Puzzles.'

He nodded slowly.

'Yeah, it was called that for a while. It used to be a much better bar when it was called that but it's still, well, it's still awesome,' he said.

'Okay, well, I'll give it another visit at some point,' she replied.

'Alright, thanks. Well, have a good evening,' he said.

He turned to leave. She took a step out of the apartment as he walked away.

'Hey, have we met before?' Tracy asked.

The man turned around at the end of the corridor, he had an odd expression on his face, as if he had a slight sense of vertigo.

'No, we've not met before,' he replied.

'I could have sworn that you look familiar. Are you a teacher?' she asked.

'Yeah, I teach.'

'Economics?'

'No, Architecture. I think you have me mistaken for someone else. Enjoy the rest of your evening,' he said, as he stepped onto the stairwell.

'Thanks,' she said, as he walked away.

Tracy walked back inside the flat. Louis was unmoved, watching the third quarter of his game. The Rangers had made something of a comeback it seemed.

'Who was that?' Louis asked.

'Oh, just a guy dishing out leaflets,' Tracy replied.

'What for?' he asked.

'That bar MacLaren's, where you first bought me a drink,' she replied.

'Ah, that place. Cool.'

He continued to drink his beer. Tracy stepped carefully into the kitchen and unfolded the leaflet on the table. The central pane featured a photo of a group, clearly slightly the worse for wear after a long evening. She recognised the figure in the middle of the group as the man who had just delivered her leaflet. Along the bottom of the photo, the caption read:

MacLaren's Regulars: Lily, Marshall, Ted, Barney and Robin

'His name is Ted,' she said to herself.

She also recognised the blonde man on his left as someone who had hit on her at a drugs store a few months previous.

'Still, if that's the kind of guy he hangs out with,' she thought aloud.

'Everything okay back there?' Louis asked from the living room.

'Yeah, yeah, I'm fine,' Tracy replied.

She folded the leaflet back up and walked out of the kitchen to retrieve her coat and bag.

'Um, I'm going to go for a walk,' she said.

Louis looked at her with curiosity for a moment, but then returned to watching his match.

'Okay, just be careful. New York's a big town,' he said, a smile forming on his face.

'Oh, I will be,' she replied.

Tracy shut the door behind her. She realised as she walked down the corridor that his parting comment was Louis' attempt at a joke. That, in itself, made her laugh quietly.

She started walking down the stairs, uncertain of where she would go, but in the knowledge that the journey would include a stop at an Irish Bar that, until a few minutes previous, she had entirely forgotten about.