By Chance

BY CHANCE


“Going up sir?” asked the bellboy as Richard stepped into the lift.

“Of course,” replied Richard absently. “No, wait a minute; I’ve been going up for ten bloody months now. Take me down for a change.”

“As you wish sir. Which floor?”

“Make it the third. Three is supposed to be my lucky number.”

Richard had been staying at The Dorchester since the break up of his relationship with Laura almost a year ago. Money was no object. A successful businessman, he could afford the luxury of a penthouse apartment, expensive restaurants, wide screen television and enough whisky to obliterate his loneliness every evening. Richard had learnt too late that money can’t buy happiness. When Laura had thrown him out, he realised the excessive hours he spent at work earning, had in reality been the cause of the break up.

During the months he’d lived at the Dorchester he’d slipped into a monotonous, emotionless routine. Work until seven, drive to the hotel, take the lift up to the restaurant, eat mechanically, and take the lift again up to his top floor accommodation for a night in front of the television drinking himself into oblivion. Not much of a life; going through the motions about all he could cope with. But tonight, some gut feeling nagged him to break his ritualistic lifestyle. He had no idea what other areas of his hotel even looked like, so narrow had his existence become. His life was about as exciting as a Benedictine monks.

Richard stepped out onto the third floor of the hotel. People mulled around the corridors going about their business. The plush carpet he walked on led him to a bar area; he’d settle for that for starters. As he sipped his third drink of the evening he scanned the unfamiliar surroundings. The place was full of families, business partners, couples holding hands; only Richard seemed to be alone. But then he spotted her. Blonde and beautiful but with that lost look only those in similar circumstances recognise. Richard slid from his stool, fuelled by alcohol-induced confidence.

“Hi, mind if I join you?” he asked tentatively. She glanced up at him, her sad eyes revealing more than words ever could. “I hope you don’t mind,” he continued. “But I saw you sitting alone and thought…” Before Richard could finish his sentence deafening fire alarm bells clamoured throughout the area.

The lifts were out of action. A panic stricken throng jostled down the staircase and in the ensuing chaos he lost sight of her. Streaming out into the cold night air, the crowd gazed upwards in disbelief as flames leapt in all directions from the top floors of the hotel. Sirens screamed in the distance but already the fire was spreading uncontrollably. Richard shuddered.

A hand tapped lightly on his shoulder. He turned and recognised those sad eyes, illuminated by the glow of the fire.

“Hello again,” she smiled shyly. “Thank God we were on the third floor. Heaven help those who are stuck at the top.”

Richard explained that it was only by chance he had gone down to the bar area for a drink. She explained it was only by chance she had dropped in at the hotel.

“I’m Gina, by the way. I used to come here a lot with my ex. Just thought I’d stop by one last time; bury the hatchet and move on. Maybe I’m pleased I did now.”

Richard recognised stirrings that had lain dormant for far too long. “Not as pleased as me.” He gazed up at the blazing inferno. “I was sick of that apartment anyway.”

“I can put you up at my place if you like.” Linking arms, they set off through the dark, damp streets leaving the Dorchester and the past behind them. Richard felt sure from now on his life was going only in one direction – up.