The Waiting Room

Twenty-Two. Please proceed to counter three.

The sing-song automated voice jolted Ben out of his daydream. The one where he was giving that hilarious speech to the partners. The one where they all slapped him on the back and called him a “bloody funny lad”. He looked down at the ticket in his hand. Forty one? Great, he thought. I’ll be here all day.

He scanned the waiting room. The usual collection of bored kids tapping on their phones and desperate looking pensioners. Not a place he belonged, that’s for sure.

Twenty-three. Please proceed to counter two.

The old bloke beside him shifted in his chair, knocking Ben’s arm with his shoulder. “Sorry, mate”. He smiled as Ben looked at him. “Bit snug in here, isn’t it?” Ben nodded, hoping this was sufficient to make the bloke stop talking.

It wasn’t.

“Not much fun coming in here, is it? Still, we’re all in it together”.

Ben resisted the temptation to tell him that no, we were not all in it together. He was nothing like the other people here. He wasn’t a no-hoper.

“So, how long you been out of work?”

Ben realised this bloke was not going to leave him alone. He resigned himself to the next hour of small talk. “Couple of weeks”.

“What did you do?”

Ben took a deep breath in. “Law”.

“Crikey!” The older man nudged him. “You don’t need to be in here, do you?”. Ben turned to look at him. The old bloke grinned. “Just go work for yourself! Probably find plenty of customers in here”. He winked at Ben and inclined his head towards a long-haired teenager sitting opposite.

“I can’t practice any more”.

The older man said nothing, but watched him closely.

Before Ben could stop himself, the words came tumbling out. “I took money. From a trust account”. He learned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I got fired”.

It had been the only thing Ben had ever wanted to do. It had given him his sense of purpose.

It had brought him to Anna.

They had met at a law mixer at university.  She had come with another student he hadn’t known well. Roommates, apparently. She had worn a floaty, floral dress. Her dark hair had been pinned to frame her perfect elfin face. They’d both reached for the same hors d'oeuvres plate at the same time. Serendipity. They’d talked. They’d kissed. He knew that night he’d marry her. They wanted the same things.

“Why’d you do that?” Ben had forgotten the old bloke was there.

He shrugged. “I have an expensive house”.

“Seems like a pretty stupid reason. Just get a smaller house”.

Ben laughed, in spite of himself, looking the older man in the eye.

“I haven’t told my wife”. Ben knew it was time. Anna had her book club this afternoon. With the partner’s wives. He had to tell her first. Tell her that their perfect life was over.

“She’s going to leave me”.