Identity X Read Free Page B

the bar.  Ami was stood to
the side of him and waved over for Ben to join them.  Ben shuffled his way
through the crowd, walking sideways and dodging the hoards of wayward elbows. 
Mark was the first to speak.  He was Ben’s oldest friend, his boy, his wing
man, and the first person he called when the first positive results had come
back earlier on that day. 
    “Hey
buddy.  So, congratulations are in order.  You did it.”  They greeted each
other with open arms and embraced, ending with a simultaneous slap of each
other’s back.  It was a stereotypical male embrace, but genuine nevertheless. 
    “No,
that’s not right.  We did it,” Ben said, breaking away from Mark and playing to
the crowd.  Ben turned to look at his colleagues, eager to include them in the
success after their effort in turning up at a bar which they surely would not
frequent if given the choice.  In comparison to the rest of the clientele, his
crowd of colleagues looked suitably out of place in their jeans and threadbare
jumpers, and he imagined that it must feel like the end of school ball all over
again, knowing that they were invited but yet how somehow still didn’t belong. 
Ami was the only one who looked like she might have come to this bar of her own
accord.  The others looked like they might be part of an organised group
outing, rounded up and dragged into somewhere they would neither choose or wish to be. 
    “Yeah
but they’re not going to get to go to Dubai are they?”  Mark was laughing as he
said it, and looking at everyone except for Ben, playing to a tough crowd.  A
few of Ben’s geeky looking colleagues raised a smile, but Ben could also hear
the rumblings of discontent as they considered that indeed there would be no
foreign trips for any of them.  He wanted to give Mark a good dig in the ribs
for mentioning Dubai, but also found himself wondering if Ami had heard.  Surely
she would like a trip there? 
    “Take
this, and raise your glass.”  Everybody was already holding another glass of
champagne, only this time the bottle cost six times that of the first and
people were holding up crystal flutes rather than paper cups.  Ben took the
glass from Mark and raised his hand as instructed.  “Ben, very soon people will
know your name.  You will present in London and then Dubai, and the world will
learn what you have done and it will be a better place for it. Here’s to my
man, Ben.”
    “To
Ben,” they all cheered, and as Ben glanced around, they all smiled back,
obviously affected by the intake of another alcoholic drink when most hadn’t
eaten since lunchtime.  Ben was a good boss and they all knew it.  They had
spent their whole lives playing second fiddle to the cooler kids in class,
either the football captain or class clown.   At least this time they were
inferior to one of their own; a fellow scientist who somehow had achieved the
impossible by remaining steadfastly studious and envied by his peers
simultaneously.  As he scanned the crowd of faces he caught Ami’s eye, and she
tipped her glass and head in unison towards him in recognition of his success
and a vision of white sands and blue waters flashed through his mind once
more.  They all sipped their drinks and began their own private conversations. 
Mark motioned to Ben to sit at the two empty spaces at the bar.  They pulled
out the leather stools and set their champagne flutes onto the glass topped
bar.  Mark raised his fingers and the barman poured two Whiskey shot’s over
brilliantly transparent ice into immaculately clear glasses.  There was not a
mark on them.  Not even a fingerprint, such was the pristine nature of
everything around them.  It was as sterile as the laboratory.  Ben shuffled off
his raincoat and loosened his tie a little further as they both sat down on the
stools, their legs turned to face each other and their elbows rested onto the
surface of the bar.  Ben picked up the Whiskey shot and prompted Mark to do