O'Connell Bridge - Pt. 30

Clinton pointed his flashlight and motioned for LC and Seamus to follow him into the darkened warehouse. All LC could see was a deep cavern of inky darkness.

“Just a second while I find the right key.” Clinton fumbled with his keys holding the flashlight under his chin. Finally he said, “found it.” He opened a door on LC’s right and immediately the ambient light from a window lit the doorway. “Welcome to the project. And, model apartment number one.”

Seamus and LC walked through the door into what appeared to be an apartment skeleton.

“We got the warehouse for almost nothing. About a hundred thousand euros and we fixed everything from plumbing to insulation and electricity. Which is not on right now, cause we have no tenants.”

“Oh ,it's going to be an apartment building? Lofts? Or maybe both?”

“Liam, as a graduate student, what do you expect you’ll need for living space?” Clinton pointed the light through an open door.

“A bedroom and place to study, same as I had in Wilmington.”

Clinton walked to the open door. “Bedroom.” He pointed his flashlight into the open space where they were standing. “Study space.” He pointed the flashlight at a wall. “Kitchenette. Bathroom is behind it, as well as another bedroom.”

“Okay.”

“Eight one-bedroom units to be built in this building. This one and the one upstairs will be two bedroom units as will be the two across the hall.”

“Cool.”

“We will get 1,200 euros monthly from the two bedrooms and 1,000 for the one bedrooms all inclusive, that is electricity and water, trash, sewage. With full occupancy, this building will pay for itself in three years.” He pointed out the door. “Mrs. O’Neil’s niece gave us the idea. Which reminds me, that building in Budapest has a leak.” He continued, “In the hallway will be two long tables, one at each end, with couches and chairs in the center. We’ll have a WIFI router right here in the center of the building and link into the Scottish net.“

“All that’s great,” LC admired the design. “But, grad students are generally broke.”

“Where are you going to grad school?”

“I hope to get into UNC Chapel Hill med school.”

Clinton switched off the flashlight. “Okay, what do apartments run in Chapel Hill, North Carolina, USA?”

“I could probably get a one bedroom for under a grand a month.”

“Yeah, about the same here. How about utilities?”

“I’d budget $200 a month for everything including cable and internet.”

Clinton nodded. “Uh huh. Where’s the money coming from?”

“Part time job, grants, loans.”

“Exactly the same situation the students here are in. But, in Chapel Hill will you have transportation at your door step?”

LC nodded. “Bus, yes.”

“All things being about equal Liam, cost-wise it’s about the same. But for Mrs. O’Neil, the benefit of providing nice housing is that in a very few years, it becomes a profit center. This building is solid. And, we’ve found a half dozen more to renovate like this and in many other cities around the world, but this is the model first.”

“That’s great for her. Will she loan the money to the grad students, too?”

Clinton laughed. “We own or at least underwrite the student loan organization.”

“Let’s look at some of the furniture going in here. Seamus help me open this box.” They pulled out a chrome and plastic chair.

LC watched with interest. “This furniture is for grad students, right?”

Clinton nodded. “Right.”

“Won’t hold up. Overstuffed is the answer. Scotland is cold; make the furniture warm and comphy, you know. By the way how is this place heated?”

“Central heat, we keep it at 22 Celsius or about 72 Fahrenheit. If you’re cold, put something on, if you’re hot, take it off. There will be sensors in every unit and the computerized system will adjust per every 560 cubic metres of air space. So if you overheat your bathroom and open the door, the whole apartment might drop a few degrees. The heating system also comes with white noise, so unless someone cranks up their stereo full blast, most general apartment living noises are squashed.”

“That’s real cool, but,” LC leaned against the door jam. “As a grad student here’s what I would want. First a decent bed, nothing fancy, just a place to sleep and read. Second, I would want comfortable seating. Fat chairs, overstuffed couches with lots of footstools. A place to eat that is convenient. Think bar stools. No fancy dining tables, maybe a café table or kitchen table to study on, that’s all. Tables need to be designed for books and computers and lots of electrical outlets. Oh, and a microwave. Students want instant food. Cooking is extra. Maybe a cooktop, if it comes with an oven great; but a professional student knows that an oven is something to clean. And in this space there has to be a broom closet, a place for cleaning junk and supplies. If you put cabinets against the back wall of the kitchen area you don’t need a pantry. Students have a few plates, in the US we use a lot of paper plates, the rest of the space can be cans. The only thing different about this space and where I live now is that it’s bigger. We have three bedrooms in 800 square feet of space for three big guys.”

Clinton motioned toward the door. Let’s go back to the office where I have catalogs for all the furniture and materials. I generally like your ideas. You can go through and make lists for me and I’ll run it up the line to the designers and maybe we’ll call the building Liam Brennan’s Retreat.” He laughed and ushered the men out the door and pointed the flashlight toward the outer street side door. “I’ll bring the car around, but Seamus, the office is just down the hill, why don’t you guys walk down there so I can park in my spot, which is an uphill walk to the door.”

“Okay,” said Seamus and began walking with LC hurrying to catch up.

“Seamus,” said LC striding along side. “What’s really going on? Did Mrs. O’Neil send me over here just to take a tour, or to help her design her student condos?”

“I truly think you were sent here to see the school, I could be wrong but that seems to be the emphasis; stopping to see the apartment very possibly is just as it seems, another stop without real purpose, although you certainly changed the design ideas.”

“Yeah, I wonder.”

Clinton finally made it to the office where he ushered LC and Seamus into a small conference room with a round table. A secretary dropped a dozen catalogs and design books on the table with a notebook and pens.

“I guess until we leave this our job.” LC moved the books around examining the covers. They worked until a secretary came in with hot tea and cookies.

“In a few minutes we need to head to the airport.” Seamus closed a magazine. “We might be able to catch an earlier flight. I know Clarice thought we’d get back around 8 PM. But I bet we can get back before dinner, which would give you enough time to prepare for her.” Seamus used his phone to check flight schedules. “The ferry might be faster. Nothing gets there before our original flight time of 8:50 PM. Let me check ferry schedules, again, he pulled the schedule up on his phone. A minute later he said, “No luck, we get in after 8 PM with a connection in Amsterdam. No way around it. We basically sit here or at the airport until our 4:50 PM flight.”

“Let’s see if Clinton is ready and go on.” LC stood and tore off a piece of notebook paper. I think I have given them enough to think about.”

Seamus chuckled. “Yeah, you pretty well modified their whole design.”

“I wonder though, if somehow that was the plan all along. I know we talked about that earlier, but somehow this is very strange.”

“I can agree with that.”

“And, the other strange thing. I haven’t had one text from Clarice.” LC held up his phone. “Not to my phone and no messages delivered.”

“Ever think maybe you’re here in the place you’re supposed to be, I mean in the place where you’re wanted?”

“Still doesn’t answer all the earlier O’Connell Bridge notes though.”

Clinton stuck his head in the door. “Ready? You can almost spit to Ireland from here, but take a ferry or airplane and takes half a day. No direct flights.”

“So we noticed.” LC walked through the conference room door opening while Clinton held the door open.

“I talked to Mrs. O’Neil, well actually I talked to Simmons. Told him about our day. He conveyed to me that Mrs. O’Neil is quite excited to meet you.” They walked down the hill to Clinton’s car. “He says you’re a pre-med student which I already new, but I understand Mrs. O’Neil knows something about your scores and such. I didn’t quite catch all of it. Anyway, I did find out it’s your birthday on Sunday. Misses and I will be there Saturday night for dinner. I have to make sure my dark suit is pressed. Lizzy, my wife went out and bought a dress for the occasion. Mrs. O’Neil only throws these things once or twice a year and for a celebration. I put two and two together and I guess it’s for your birthday.”

LC felt confused. I’m invited to meet Mrs. O’Neil, all I know.”

“Lot of people going to be there. Mostly big shot friends of hers, but if the last time I went to one of these, it was last fall; she greets everyone, sees the people she wants to see or wants to lean on, and then disappears to attend another meeting. She rarely schedules only one thing at a time, and if you work for her it can be a track race. Probably why she has more money than Ft. Knox.” He pointed the little car down the hill and minutes later they arrived at the airport.

“Thanks Clinton, I will know at least one person at the dinner.”

As LC walked around the car Clinton rolled down the window, “You’re coming with Clarice I understand.”

“Yes, sir, I am.”

Clinton chuckled a sly type laugh. “Well, you will have lots of friends with their wives tugging on their coattails.”

LC only smiled. “I can imagine.”

As they walked into the terminal LC asked Seamus. “Does Clarice have that effect on everyone?”

“I don’t really know her that well. I’ve seen her at the corporate office and traveled with her sorta—she sits separate, but that’s all. But, I have heard that you may be the only man who has ever touched her. Most guys I hear are brought to their knees when they try to do anything but business with her.”

“I can see that.”

“But, I saw you kissing her.”

LC felt his face warm. “I was ordered to—it was part of the instruction.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. I may have pressed the issue a bit though.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t say anything. But, if it got out that you and Clarice you know. You would probably be knighted.”

“Well for one thing I did not do anything like that. All I did was the two cheek kiss and the date kiss, per her instructions.”

Seamus handed his ticket to the boarding agent and turned to LC, how about the night she backed you into the partition at the restaurant?”

“I did not invite that.”

“How about when you two returned from the Bordello—that was a wrestling match in the back seat of the sedan and I heard her order the driver away.” LC handed over his ticket and the two of them entered the boarding ramp.

“She initiated that, I was fighting to escape.”

Seamus smiled. “Not too hard.”

“She’s very persuasive.”

“Clarice has her talons readied and she plans to snare you my friend, and I can’t always be there to run interference.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Seamus laughed. “And, you’re meeting her for drinks at 11 PM. Good luck.”

“Gee thanks.”

To be continued...