[ WP ] You possess an ability to turn off one or more of your senses to heighten the others . Today is the day you make a mistake .

Rudy had been blind for thirty-four years. Now it rarely bothered him: a loss that was like a drop in the bucket to everything else he had gained. Beneath his fingers, the woven tablecloth was grainy. He could pick out every ridge, every thread in it. They should have picked silk, like he'd suggested. Rudy rubbed that flat of his hand across it until he came to the wineglasses. Not the crystal stemware he expected, but it felt smooth and fine nonetheless. Hunger rumbled deep in his belly. The restaurant was emptier than usual, but burbled talking he managed to filter into the background. 
 
 
 
 `` Mr Moore, your guests have arrived,'' the waiter whispered. Everyone learned to whisper around Rudy. The man he had chosen as his driver had n't spoken in thirty years. Rudy valued him. 
 
 
 
 `` See them in,'' he replied. When they arrived, he got to his feet effortlessly, holding out a hand in the direction of their voices. Rudy sensed their surprise. A man and a woman. She wore too much perfume, but then anything more than a drop was too much perfume for Rudy. The man dragged his left foot a microscopic amount more than his right. The sound of his shoes on the carpet made Rudy's teeth itch. 
 
 
 
 `` Mr Moore,'' the man started. He took his hand after a second's hesitation. `` Daniel Coleman, and my wife Cara.'' 
 
 
 
 `` A pleasure,'' she said smoothly. There was something else beneath the perfume: the smell of sweat and leather. 
 
 
 
 `` Do you ride horses, Cara?'' Rudy asked. 
 
 
 
 `` No, but Daniel's brother has a stable. I've been meaning to start. Why do you ask?'' he heard the catch in her voice, even if her husband did n't. 
 
 
 
 `` No reason. Please, sit down.'' There was no reason to reveal her infidelity at the dinner table. Not with the food that was coming. 
 
 
 
 Daniel was chummy. He sat too close and laughed too loud. Whippets of conversation straggled through to Rudy. A tearful exchange at the next table over; a hurried decision to leave. Jokes. Several jokes, all of them bad. 
 
 
 
 `` We came here to talk about our business proposition,'' Cara steered the conversation onto safer tracks and Rudy smiled. He liked it when they talked business. 
 
 
 
 `` Tell me about it,'' he said gracefully. `` Who was the chef you poached from Hammlins'?'' 
 
 
 
 `` Gregory Lister,'' Daniel grinned. `` Genius what he does with food. You've tasted what he can do, you know it'll be a success. But we need your help to get us off the ground.'' 
 
 
 
 `` Just one review,'' Cara broke in. The gentle clink of dishes told Rudy that food had arrived. He moved his elbows and held a finger up. Both of them fell silent. Rudy Moore's table routine was well known. He bent his face to an inch away from the food and inhaled, deeply and noisily. 
 
 
 
 
 In the background, a peel of laughter broke out. Rudy frowned. 
 
 
 
 `` Cockles,'' he said eventually. `` Cooked in white wine, cream and saffron. Good garlic, cumin, shallots minced and salted to paste. Cooked fast and well. Added parsley, cracked black pepper and -- Is that the bread? My goodness.'' 
 
 
 
 Taking a chunk of the bread, he broke it in half. Steam rose from it, fragrant as rosemary. It was soft to the touch, springy and floury. Rudy mopped it in the sauce as another peel of laughter rang out. He lifted it to his lips, enjoying the smell for one last moment before he ate the bread. 
 
 
 
 `` Divine,'' he said. `` But I wo n't do the review, not for any amount of money. I'm sticking to my principles. Gregory may be an angel with food, but this poaching of chefs has gone far enough. Daniel, that injury on your left leg. It's a burn from the arson at Francesco's. I ca n't be part of this world any more. Restauranteering used to be an honourable trade. When did it become so full of gangsters?'' 
 
 
 
 Another peel of laughter: like nails on a chalkboard. Rudy lifted his head. It was the same laughter every time. Again it came, again, like a glitched record. Then it dropped, and the restaurant fell to silence. 
 
 
 
 `` What's going on?'' Rudy asked, scared. 
 
 
 
 `` We thought you might say that,'' Daniel said. `` But we've covered our tracks. Open your eyes, Rudy, and you'll see what we've done.'' 
 
 
 
 Thirty-four years. Rudy allowed his eyes to see once more, and the shock of it made his retinas scream. A huge light: beaming straight onto his face, a single table set up in the middle of an empty warehouse. Speakers around him, glitching as they attempted to play the sounds of a restaurant. A carpet was laid out on the concrete floor, the walls padded to absorb sound. And Cara and Daniel, smirking as they watched him over the badly set table. 
 
 
 
 `` I guess I see now,'' Rudy said. `` You'll stop at nothing to get this review.'' 
 
 
 
 `` Your name is famous,'' Cara replied. `` You say we're good, and people will come rolling in.'' 
 
 
 
 `` They wo n't,'' Rudy said. `` Not if I ca n't taste a thing.'' 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

