Limitless

The doors finally opened, but the relief of getting away from the reception area was short-lived, because I now had to contend with the elevator car, the interior of which, with its reflective steel panels, its controlled climate and relentless humming, felt as if it had been custom-built to induce and fuel panic attacks. It was a physical environment that seemed to ape the very symptoms of anxiety – the sinking feeling, the uncontrollable fluttering in the stomach, the everpresent threat of nausea.

I closed my eyes, but then couldn’t help picturing the dark elevator shafts above and below me … couldn’t help imagining the heavy steel cables snapping as the car and its counterweights accelerated rapidly in opposite directions, the car naturally hurtling downwards, free-falling to ground level …

Instead it came to a barely perceptible halt near the foot of this concrete tube, and the door slid gently open. To my surprise, standing there – waiting to step inside – was Ginny Van Loon.

‘Mr Spinola!’

When I didn’t respond immediately, she stepped forward and stretched a hand out to take me by the arm, ‘Are you all right?’

I got out of the elevator car and moved with her into the lobby area, which was crowded and busy, and almost as terrifying – though for different reasons – as the elevator car. I was in a cold sweat now and had started shivering again. She said, ‘My God, Mr Spinola, you look—’

‘Like shit?’

‘Well,’ she replied after a moment, ‘yeah.’

We made our way across the lobby and stopped by a large coppertinted window that looked out on to Forty-eighth Street.

‘What … what’s the matter? What happened?’

I focused on her properly now and saw that her concern was genuine. She was still holding on to my arm and for some reason this made me feel slightly better. Once I acknowledged that, there was a knock-on effect and I managed to calm down considerably.

‘I was … up on sixty-two,’ I said, ‘but I didn’t—’

‘You couldn’t take the heat, right? I knew you weren’t one of Daddy’s business guys. Anyway, they’re nothing but a bunch of automatons.’

‘Automata. I think I was having a panic attack.’

‘Good for you. Anyone who doesn’t have a panic attack up there has something seriously wrong with them. And you can say automatons if you want.’ She paused. ‘You can say referendums.’

‘Yeah,’ I said, trying to catch my breath, ‘referendums, sure, but you wouldn’t say phenomenons, would you?’

She was wearing black jeans and a black sweater and was carrying a small leather doctor’s bag.

‘Not if I was talking to you, obviously. Anyway, one’s from Latin and the other’s from Greek, the rules are different, so fuck you. How are you feeling now?’

I took a few deep breaths and held my chest.

‘A little better, thanks.’

Aware, suddenly, of my newly acquired girth, I tried to stand up a little straighter and to breathe in.

Ginny studied me for a while.

‘Mr Spi—’

‘Eddie, call me Eddie. Jesus, I’m only thir—’

‘Eddie, are you sick?’

‘Hhn?’

‘I mean, are you unwell? Because you really look unwell. You’ve …’ – she struggled to find the right words – ‘ … you’ve … since that time I saw you in the apartment, you’ve put on some, well … some weight. And—’

‘My weight fluctuates.’

‘Yeah, but that was, what, only two weeks ago?’

I held up my hands. ‘Hey, can’t a fellah have a couple of creamcakes once in a while?’

She smiled, but then said, ‘Look, I’m sorry, I know it’s none of my business, but I just think you should look after yourself better.’

‘Yeah, yeah. I know. You’re right.’

My breathing was more regular now and I felt a good deal better. I asked her what she was doing.

‘I’m going up to see Daddy.’

‘You want to get some coffee instead?’

‘I can’t.’ She made a face. ‘Anyway, if you’ve just had a panic attack, I think you should probably be avoiding coffee. Drink juice, or something wholesome that won’t exacerbate your stress levels.’

I straightened up again and leant back against the window. ‘Come and have a wholesome juice with me then.’

She looked directly into my eyes. Hers were bright blue – sparkling, cerulean, celestial.

‘I can’t.’

I was going to push it, ask her why not, but then I didn’t. I got a flickering sense that she was a little uncomfortable all of a sudden, which in turn made me uncomfortable. It also struck me that feelings of panic probably came in waves, and that while an attack might abate, it might just as easily come back. I didn’t want to be around here if that happened, even with Ginny.

‘OK, look,’ I said, ‘thank you very much. I’m really glad I bumped into you.’

She smiled. ‘Are you going to be OK?’

I nodded.

‘You sure?’

‘Yeah, I’m fine. Absolutely. Thanks.’

She patted me on the shoulder and said, ‘OK, so long, Eddie.’

A second later she was walking away from me across the lobby, her little doctor’s bag swinging by her side. Then – enveloped suddenly into the crowd – she was gone.