15 December 2014
"Good morning. Can I help you, sir?" Ste pronounced the last work mockingly as he left the cookie dough he was preparing for the following morning and headed to the counter of his deli.
"Morning Ste," John Paul sighed, "I'd like one latte and a cinnamon bun. To go! Please." The last word was a little delayed.
"Treating yourself?" the younger man asked, seemingly without any real interest.
"Well, last week of teaching before Christmas. You going to see Amy and the kids?" John Paul asked, knowing the question might sting.
"No, not now." Ste replied, with a heaviness that made John Paul regret having asked.
"I'm sorry, Ste, I shouldn't have asked like this. It was uncalled for. And insensitive." He tried to apologise
"Well, it's not your fault really." Ste sighed. "Take a seat, I'll let you know when the coffee's ready."
When John Paul had left the shop Ste went back to his baking. To his surprise the rubber spatula he'd been using to clean the mixer bowl was nowhere to be seen.
As he headed back to work, John Paul heard his phone signalling the arrival of a text message. He picked it up and read it, while walking past a chubby man in a greyish woollen jumper. The text was from Spike asking whether he'd like to go to the cinema or something Tuesday evening. He smiled as he replied. As a result he didn't notice the woolly guy licking his lips or the green spatula on the ground next to him.
A couple of minutes later a new text arrived. They were on for a quiet night at the McQueen's.
He didn't notice himself whistling Last Christmas as he continued his walk.
His last day at work seemed to be endless. One meeting after the other where he had to report to various bosses and colleagues on the progress of his assignments.
Still, Craig was relieved how kindly his superiors had agreed to his leaving the job with such short notice. He'd been asked to sign a contract banning him from working for a competitor in Ireland for the next couple of years, but that had been easy enough. He didn't have any plans to return to live there, and if he did, he'd definitely find a different type of work. It would be good to have it on his CV, though, so he did everything according to his bosses' wishes.
Finally, the last meeting ended and he went to his desk to finish clearing his things. Picking up his briefcase he felt a little wistful as he left his office and walked down the corridor. As he exited the building he was surprised by a group of workmates that had been hiding behind plants, rubbish bins and other things in the vicinity.
"You're not escaping that lightly, my dear fellow," his mate George told him as he gave him a hug. "We're all going to the pub, of course! You can't just leave without buying us a round."
"I'll be skint." He joked. "You should be buying me the rounds!"
"We'll see what we can do about that," George replied.
Four hours and six pints later, Craig finally made it out of the pub and decided to walk home. He chose a route he'd stayed clear off ever since John Paul left, over the Ha'penny Bridge.
He'd read the news about the city council clearing off the lovelocks and for months he didn't want to check whether the lock he'd made with John Paul had been removed or not.
Tonight he felt ready, though. The lock was only a symbol of what had been, and what had been was gone anyway, so it was fitting that the lock would be gone, too. If… When he'd get back together with John Paul, it would be a new relationship, yes, built on love that had lasted for years, but it needed a new foundation, and no lovelock on a bridge in Dublin would do.
The bridge looked a bit different without the locks. The old ones were gone, but some determined people had just replaced them with new ones. Guess it will be an endless war, he thought to himself as he approached the place where he and John Paul had put theirs.
It was gone.
Tears welled up in his eyes as he continued his walk home.
He'd put a new one there with their names on it when he'd return.
He was determined!