Noel Jacobs awoke at his usual time of 6:55 a.m. to the sound of his alarm clock. On opening the curtains, he was greeted by blue skies, although a hint of chill lingered in the air.
As was his usual routine, he made a bowl of porridge with one spoonful of honey, showered, and dressed, carefully selecting his red tie, as it was Tuesday.
He left the house at 8:10 a.m., though he’d had to linger a few moments, the clock having only just struck 8:06 when he was ready to go.
Before leaving, he checked that all the lights were off and pushed the door three times to confirm it was locked.
Noel worked at an accountancy firm at the other end of the high street, a twelve-minute walk at his customary pace of sixty-five steps per minute.
He started work at 8:30 a.m., which usually gave him a few minutes to prepare his Tuesday tea – peppermint with one sugar. But today, a slight headache prompted him to pop into the local Superdrug to buy some tablets.
He noticed an unusual quiet; no cars moved on the roads, and he passed no one on the high street.
Noel, ever preoccupied with his work schedule, didn’t give it much thought. He was a stickler for meeting targets, a feat that required considerable planning and thought. The company expected much from its employees, and Noel had never failed to meet his quota.
Reaching the store, he grabbed some tablets and headed to the till. With no other customers in sight, he figured he’d still have enough time to make his tea when he arrived at work.
He waited patiently for staff to appear, calling out “Hello!”
No reply.
He began whistling as loudly as he could. Still no reply.
Noel looked down the aisle, hoping to spot someone. He looked at his watch and began huffing and puffing, shuffling his feet. He started to get irritated and anxious pacing the floor waiting for someone to appear.
He repeatedly looked at his watch, his frustrations building.
Rummaging in his pocket, he gathered the correct change and left it on the counter, along with a short note scribbled with a pen from the till. It felt strange, but it was a reasonable solution, he decided, as he didn’t want to be late.
The silence remained oppressive as he approached the office.
Entering, he noticed that no one had arrived yet. He glanced at the clock; it was 8:29 a.m. Not enough time for tea.
He shrugged off his coat and slumped into his desk chair.
Noel immediately checked his diary and saw he was scheduled for a blood test at 10:30 a.m. at the clinic down the street.
He would use his morning break. The eerie silence persisted, but he was too focused on the day ahead to dwell on it.
The time passed quickly as Noel diligently worked through his list.
Still, no one had arrived.
Realising this, Noel phoned his boss in the office next door and left a message on his voicemail, explaining that he was stepping out for his appointment.
He checked his watch and, feeling it would be taking advantage to leave at 10:24, waited in the foyer for three more minutes, gazing out at the deserted street.
Noel was puzzled, but remained focused.
He entered the clinic and, finding no one at the desk, sat down to wait.
Conscious of the time, he ventured into the nurses’ room after a couple of minutes and sat himself down.
The silence remained eerie. Noel called out for assistance. He began fidgeting. He looked at his watch and began pacing but no one appeared.
He could not delay any longer.
Taking a bottle and labeling it with his name, Noel picked up a syringe and plunged it into his arm. Blood spurted out, and he struggled to stem the flow with cotton wool.
Panic began to set in as he realized the time.
He was dishevelled and worried his boss would penalise him for lateness.
Sprawling on his knees, he cleaned up the mess as best he could. His break was nearly over. Leaving the bottle on the side, he rushed out the door, only to be greeted by a barren landscape of empty buildings and abandoned cars.
He ran back to the offices, looking sheepish as he passed his boss’s empty office. Noel sighed as he reached his desk, relieved he’d gotten away with being slightly late.
He vowed to shorten his lunch break to compensate. The silence of a usually frantic office with phones constantly ringing was obvious.
The day passed uneventfully. The office remained empty. Noel stood up, grabbed his coat, then sat down again, realizing he was two minutes early.
He decided to print some papers. The sudden noise of the copier startled him. He was disoriented and agitated by the fact that everyone seemed to be out of the office at the same time.
On his walk home, Noel, with his head down, found himself instinctively sidestepping, avoiding collisions with people who weren’t there.
Deciding to eat out, he entered a café and sat down, scanning the menu. He settled on an omelette and chips and waited for the waitress.
No one came. Faint music played in the background.
After ten minutes, Noel took himself into the kitchen, grabbed some eggs, and began cooking.
When the omelette was ready, he returned to the dining area, ate his meal, washed the plate, and left money on the counter with a ten percent tip.
At home, Noel switched on the television, but it only showed repeats. The radio had no reception, so he went to bed, thinking about the heavy workload awaiting him the next day.
Noel continued this routine for several days, still utterly alone. His workload overwhelmed him.
Feeling stressed, he decided to book a holiday. With the office empty, he rang HR and left a message with his vacation dates.
Life continued in this way for a few more weeks.
Noel grew increasingly lonely and depressed.
He continued to plough through his work, looking forward to his break, working overtime in the hope his boss would authorize it.
With his stress levels rising, Noel booked an appointment with the company well-being officer.
On the day of the meeting, he emailed his boss to ask permission to take time out of his busy schedule to attend. Receiving no reply, he considered canceling, but his declining mental state convinced him otherwise.
Even though Noel had seen no one for weeks, he still walked deferentially through the office, hoping he wouldn’t be seen going to the well-being meeting. Arriving at the room, he sat down on the couch.
After a few minutes of sitting alone, checking his watch to ensure he had the correct time, Noel began reading poems from the wall and chanting ritual songs.
Again, though, his conscience pricked him, reminding him that he was taking an unauthorized break. He quickly slipped back, hoping no one in the empty office noticed him.
The day of his holiday finally arrived.
Noel, relieved to escape the humdrum of the empty office, packed his suitcase and traveled through the deserted streets to the local bus station, where a coach was parked.
He checked the seat number on his ticket and, after waiting in vain for the driver, boarded the empty coach and sat alone, hoping for some fellow passengers.
When none arrived, Noel, seeing the keys in the ignition, decided to drive himself. The drive was slow, as he had a number of road works and traffic lights to negotiate, even though he was the only person on the road.
Optimistic that the hotel would be full of holidaymakers, he drove through the deserted streets and motorways until he reached his destination.
Taking his case, he walked up to the reception desk and waited patiently for someone to appear, ringing the bell several times.
Still preoccupied with work, worrying that he’d left some task unfinished, Noel picked up his case and made his way through the hotel.
He had his pick of any room but decided to take the one printed on his reservation.
The television continued to play repeats, interspersed with a woman suggesting activities available at the hotel.
As it was getting late, Noel settled on karaoke and headed to the bar.
The vast, empty hall echoed as he tried to find a convenient table in front of the microphone. Reserved by nature, he eventually mustered the courage to walk onto the stage and, looking out at the emptiness, sang and danced his way through “Staying Alive.”
The rest of the evening was spent at the bar alone with nothing but a vodka bottle.
The next morning, Noel headed to the dining area. The solitude and loneliness of endless weeks were broken by a small figure in the distance, a man pushing a broom.
He approached Noel’s table and said meekly, “Good morning. Hope you’re enjoying your stay.”
Noel replied in kind. “I hope you are not too busy. What time do you finish?”
“5 p.m. I better crack on. Have a good day.”
He spent the rest of his holiday calling out bingo numbers to himself and entering quiz competitions.
He didn’t see the cleaner again and vacated his room at the required time on his last day.
On leaving, Noel filled out a questionnaire about his stay and suggested the hotel advertise better to increase their numbers.
The journey home was uneventful, with empty roads and the occasional farm animal roaming the fields.
As he passed a school in one of the local towns, he saw a solitary child in a playground outside the empty buildings, kicking a ball against a wall.
They saw each other and nodded approvingly.
The night before his return to work, Noel became anxious and even more depressed. The loneliness had taken its toll, but he knew the work came first.
He awoke at his usual time, prepared his porridge, and put on his blue Monday tie. With the streets still deserted, he had taken to leaving four minutes later, still arriving on time. He slammed the door shut and checked it three times.
As he walked through the town, he heard cars honking and saw people hurrying along the pavements. He arrived three minutes late to a busy, vibrant office, to the sound of “Come on, Jacobs, you’re late!”
Stories to Read... 