by Nem Rowan
I followed it, standing on tiptoes to figure out where he must have climbed the fence but finding nothing. Just by chance, I decided to part the bushes that grew at the bottom of the fence, and to my horror, I discovered a hole there. The barrier was constructed from solid planks of wood that I kept repainting with creosote to prevent rot, so I was certain this hole hadn’t appeared through neglect. No, this was a secret entrance created with the use of a saw of some kind.
I stepped back, letting the branches of the bushes fall into place. How long had the hole been there? Did the policeman walk right past it in the dark, unnoticed?
I swallowed deeply and looked at the house, checking that there was nothing an intruder could climb in order to gain access. He wouldn’t be able to enter without smashing the double-glazed windows. My rage was dissolving back into fear again; it wasn’t safe to be here on my own. How many times had he visited my garden without my realising? Did he spy on me through the windows without my knowledge? What else was he up to? What did I need to be afraid of?
I returned to the kitchen and shut the door, locking it and wedging a chair under the handle, next turning my attention to the windows to ensure they were all locked before I closed the blinds and curtains.
In the living room, I took my phone out of my coat pocket and dialled Vanessa. While I waited for an answer, my ears became highly sensitised to all the little creaks the house naturally made, and when the neighbours made a thumping sound next door, I almost jumped out of my skin.
“Tenny?” Vanessa finally answered and I sat on the sofa with a sigh of relief.
“Can I come stay at yours? I got another picture posted through the door and I found a big hole in the fence,” I blurted, covering my eyes with my free hand and rubbing at my forehead.
“Of course, you can. Are you alright? Have you called the police?”
“I’m scared. I just wanna get out of here as soon as possible. I haven’t called them yet.” I peeked through my fingers in the direction of the doorway, half-expecting to find a figure standing there.
“Do you want me to come over?” she offered, sounding concerned for me.
“No, I don’t wanna be here.”
“Then get out of there. Come over to mine.”
“I’m gonna pack a bag and I’ll be over soon. You’re not busy, are you?” I got to my feet, grabbing my backpack and hurrying to the stairs.
“No, no. I mean, I’ve got someone coming over later, but that’s in a couple of hours. It doesn’t matter. We can call the police when you get here.”
“Okay, I’ll let you know when I’m on my way. Thanks, Ness,” I replied, feeling much more at ease knowing I could escape to somewhere.
“You don’t have to thank me. Hurry up, then. I’ll wait for you.”
“Okay, see you in a bit.”
I put my phone in my pocket, realising I was still wearing my work uniform, but I didn’t want to waste time changing into something else, so I stuffed some fresh clothes into my bag and checked the house to make sure everything was secure. Just before I left, I grabbed the photos and texted Vanessa to tell her I was leaving, then I opened the front door, peeking out through the crack to check that no one was out there.
The traffic was still heavy, flowing past the house in two steaming queues, engines rumbling and the dull, mismatched beats of muffled music filling the air. I locked the house and rushed to the safety of the car, tossing my bag into the passenger seat; the engine roared to life and I nudged my way out of my parking space, joining the travellers heading towards the city centre.
As I drove, I began to contemplate the suspicions my friends held towards David; what if it was him? Like they had said, this had all begun when I’d met him…
I turned on the radio to try and stifle these horrid thoughts, tuning into a chat show to drown them out, but it did little to ease them. David was socially awkward; he wasn’t a stalker or a criminal. At least as far as I could tell. What if I was wrong?
Vanessa was waiting for me at the open front door when I arrived, dressed in a pair of slouchy jogging bottoms and a baby blue pyjama shirt with a koala bear on the front. It was a funny sight, considering how she presented herself as a dominatrix, but I was used to seeing this private side of her. In fact, I found it very comforting, in a way.
She gave me a hug, my chin resting on her chest as she was much taller than me, then she ushered me indoors where Rebecca had already put a pot of tea to brew. She was standing in the hallway, reaching to dust the corners of the ceiling in a different maid’s uniform today, this one a delightful shade of pink, and as her Mistress closed the door, she turned and smiled fondly at me.
“Hello, Tristen,” she greeted coyly.
“Hi there, Rebecca.” I smiled, slipping off my trainers on the mat and putting them beside the door.
“Ma’am, the pot of tea is ready. Shall I go pour it?” she spoke, lowering the feather duster and facing us.
“We’re going upstairs. You can bring it to us there.” Vanessa gestured for me to follow her up the staircase.
I did, relieved that I had company.
“How are you doing, Tenny?” she inquired over her shoulder as she reached the next floor.
“Tired, fed up. But I’m okay, just a little shook up, I guess.” I followed her into the living room, where she turned on the lamps. We sat on the sofa and I placed my bag on the floor between my feet, unzipping it so I could take out the pictures the stalker had posted to me.
“Here, you can use my landline,” she offered, snatching a wireless handset from its stand and passing it to me.
Making the call to the police again was harder than last time, perhaps because I was out of the dangerous situation and now that I was no longer panicking, I began to feel embarrassed about what was happening. Embarrassed that some stranger was jacking off over my pictures and felt the need to harass me about it.
Vanessa helped me with the questions and answers, guiding me in insisting that they examine the entry point in the fence and voicing my concerns. Before, I had perhaps been a little lax as I didn’t like to feel I was causing trouble for others, so I was grateful to have her at my shoulder, pointing me in the right direction. I agreed to meet with some officers at the property and to file a formal report on the matter with the photographs as evidence. In the meantime, they recommended I stay at Vanessa’s house for now. I was left feeling exhausted after putting down the phone.
“Do you want to go to the station to file a report now, or tomorrow?” Vanessa asked after a moment of silence. Rebecca had come to sit in the room while the call had progressed, poured us cups of tea, and quietly absorbed what was being discussed.
“Tomorrow. I’ll pop in on the way to work.” I rubbed my forehead with the palm of my hand, aware that I was coming down with a stress headache.
“What time are you meeting them at the house?” She leaned back into the sofa cushions, crossing one lithe leg over the other. Even in her pyjamas, she still had the grace, elegance, and awesome size of a dressage horse.
“Twelve, when I go for my lunch break,” I replied, lifting my teacup and taking a deep gulp.
“Do you want either of us to be there with you? I can send Willy for support. He can help you pack and bring your stuff here while you return to work,” she suggested, gesturing to her cross-dressed husband.
“I’d appreciate that very much,” I agreed, managing a grateful smile.
I could see a searching look in her dark eyes and could tell there was something she wanted to bring up, but why was she hesitating?
“What’s wrong?” I prompted, tilting my head.
She made a little sigh and her thin brows lifted as she looked away. “Well, I didn’t wanna mention it right now, but…are you sure David doesn’t have anything to do with this?”
“I was wondering when you were going to bring that up.”
“Well? Are you sure?” she repeated, shrugging.
“Yeah, of course, I am. Why woul
d he do something like this? He’s got no reason for it. What would be the point?” I made excuses, but my words sounded pathetic even to my own ears.
Vanessa shrugged again and sipped from her teacup.
* * * *
I lay awake in the dark, my ears picking up on every tiny creak and movement in this strange house. I had gone to bed early because I had to get up for work; meanwhile, Vanessa’s work was going on downstairs as a client had arrived an hour ago. Occasionally, I heard a scream of agony or the silken sound of Vanessa’s commanding voice. I turned over in bed, gazing at my phone on the bedside cabinet, the LED light a shade of orange as I had plugged it in to charge. It was the only thing I could see in the darkness, a tiny dot in the middle of a black room. I missed David, wished he was here with me. I took my phone, and when I unlocked it, the screen brightness blinded me momentarily until my eyes adjusted. I scrolled through my contact list until I found his number, then I hit the CALL button.
Ring, ring. Ring, ring. Ring, ring…
“Hello? Is that you, Sir?” David spoke against my ear.
“Hi, David,” I whispered, finally feeling myself relax into the soft mattress. Hearing him close to me somehow relieved me of the stress that had been burrowing into my brain all evening.
“I miss you,” he spoke off-handedly, and although I could tell he had embarrassed himself, my heart warmed immediately.
“I miss you, too. I wanted to hear your voice,” I confessed. I closed my eyes, imagining him lying in bed beside me, his warm body spooned against mine.
“You sound sad, Sir. Are…are you okay?” he hesitated to ask as though he thought I might be annoyed with him.
“I’ve had a tough evening.”
“Is there anything I can do to make it better?” he asked attentively. There was a rustling sound and I could tell he was lying in bed, too.
“Yes. Just let me hear your voice. It’s making me feel better already.”
“I’m glad. Do you want to talk about your evening?”
I made a muted sigh and licked my lips. “Well, I think someone is stalking me. They keep posting pictures to my house and they tried to break in so I’m staying with friends at the moment. I had to call the police again.”
“Oh, that’s horrible.” I heard him swallow. “I hope the police can sort it out.”
I grunted in agreement. I knew I shouldn’t be talking about this to him if he was the stalker, but I just couldn’t believe he would do this to me. I wouldn’t tell him that everyone thought he had something to do with it. I wanted him to be accepted by my friends and to accept them in return; if I told him what had been said, it might make him reluctant to meet with them in future.
“Enough about that, though,” I requested gently, curious to know what he’d been up to. “Tell me about your day.”
“I haven’t done much today. I fixed another machine and packaged it up to take to the Post Office. I guess I’ve been pretty lazy. I kinda find it hard to get motivated sometimes. Especially when I’m missing you so much…”
At some point during our conversation I must have fallen asleep, because I woke in the morning with my cheek pressed against my phone and I didn’t remember saying goodbye to him. The hard object stung when I peeled the device from my skin and checked to see if it was fully charged. A text message was waiting for me.
I ended the call because I didn’t want you to get charged lots of money for it. I hope you won’t be angry at me. Love David x
I grinned and covered my face with the crook of my arm as I turned onto my back; what an idiot, falling asleep like that. I felt better, though, much better. It was only when I remembered that I had to speak to the police again that my initial happiness dimmed somewhat, but at least it was Friday.
* * * *
“Hey, Tenny,” Leanne called to me as I approached the staff door, my bag slung over my shoulder and my coat flecked with rain. I paused, turning to find her approaching from the counter, her hands behind her back as she did up her apron and her blonde hair bouncing on her shoulders.
“Good morning, what’s up?” I greeted, though I was wondering what she wanted to talk to me about.
“Listen, the Sergeant wants to see you in his office,” she told me once she had come to a halt before me, keeping her voice low so no one would hear our conversation.
“Oh, this isn’t about the hot chocolate incident, is it?” I frowned, becoming even more curious.
“I don’t know, he just said he wants you in his office the second you get here.” She shook her head. “I didn’t mention anything to him about that guy from before, so I wouldn’t have thought it was to do with that.”
“Okay,” I mumbled, beginning to worry.
“I’m sure it’s fine, don’t worry about it. When you come back down, Frank’s doing housekeeping so can you help me at the counter?” she added, turning to head back to the till.
“Sure thing. See you in a bit.”
Sergeant Swindle’s office was on the other side of the store near the little admin department inaccessible to customers. I was already anxious because of my visit to the police station earlier, which had gone without any hitches, but still, I was left feeling downcast by the experience and I definitely wasn’t looking forward to meeting with an officer at the house later.
I swiped the entry pad to get through the door to the offices, making my way along the corridor and passing through the secondary door that lead into the office foyer where the receptionist was tapping away at a computer keyboard. She directed me straight through to the boss’s office. I knocked on the door to his room, my heart already starting to thump with nerves as I waited for permission to enter, and when that permission came, I stepped inside.
Mr. Swindle was sitting behind his desk, dressed in a dark navy suit that was stretched taut over his round belly, the gold of his Omega watch glinting on his wrist as he clasped his hands together on the desktop. I closed the door behind me, aware that my eyes were wide open in the fashion of an animal in shock.
“Sit down, Tristen” He pointed to the chair in front of me, and I noticed the sternness in his voice, the lack of pleasantries.
“Leanne said there was something you wanted to talk to me about?” I inquired cautiously as I seated myself before him. His beady brown eyes were piercing into me, the false light from the cathode bulbs above creating a shine on his balding head. He made a little cough and wiped his hand over his face.
“Hmm. Where do I start?” He raised a bushy eyebrow at me.
I stared at him blank-faced, my confusion and nerves blending together to create a swell of fear.
“Employees are not allowed to give away freebies to customers. I was told you were handing out free coffees to your friends,” he spoke, his voice flat with disapproval.
“I didn’t give it away for free. I paid my own money into the till,” I explained, thinking that someone might have overheard what was said between David and I at the counter but not seeing me putting cash in the register.
“That’s not what I was told by another member of staff.”
“I’m sorry, but what they told you wasn’t true. I can even provide the receipt if you want to see it,” I offered, knowing the small slip of paper was in my backpack.
“That won’t be necessary. This brings me to the second issue. I had a customer come in to see me personally to complain about your conduct recently and he told me you walked into him carrying a tray of coffees, which you then spilled all over him and blamed him for your own clumsiness. He said you were rude and refused to apologise. I think I’m being pretty clear when I say that my staff do not verbally abuse customers. I’ve now had to compensate this customer because of your behaviour.” Swindle’s voice rose as he spoke, becoming more assertive.
“I didn’t do any of those things. He walked into my friend and started having a go at him. I offered him some tissue and tried to mediate as he was being abusive.” I began to frown, amazed by the audacity of that jerk, that h
e would go to such lengths to get revenge for something so trivial.
He looked at me across the desk with an unimpressed glower. I could tell he had no interest in hearing what I had to say.
“You may say what you want in your defence, but the final issue I want to talk to you about is the most inappropriate of all.” He made a chuckle that sounded more like a grunt as he opened the card folder in front of him and took out a sheet of paper. He slid it across the desk towards me and I picked it up.
“This was emailed to me this morning,” he told me as I stared down at it.
It was a photograph of me taken some time ago; I could tell because my beard was trimmed short and Vanessa had longer hair. I was grabbing her in a one-armed hug, both of us standing next to a St. Andrew’s cross with a slave dangling from it. I remembered this picture; Growler had taken it at the club when I had come by to pick them up after work, as Willy’s car had broken down so he wasn’t able to give them a lift home. It just so happened that I was wearing my work uniform at the time. I was there only a minute or two, and yet Swindle seemed to have the impression I was out attending fetish clubs dressed as I was.
“This isn’t what it looks like,” I reasoned, but my voice faltered. I could tell from the way he was looking at me that it didn’t matter what I said now.
“Do you think it’s appropriate for a member of my staff to be seen in whatever perverse sex club it was you visited? What do you think that says about my company? Do you think it’s a good, family-friendly image?” he questioned rhetorically, his chair creaking as he leaned back.
“N-no,” I stammered, struggling to find the words to speak.
“I thought I was doing a good deed by employing you, despite all your problems.”
“Problems? What problems? What’s that supposed to mean?” I interjected, tossing the photo onto his desk.
“You know what I mean.”
“No I don’t, so why don’t you explain yourself,” I said, trying to urge him into vocalising what sounded very much like prejudice.
He smiled grimly. “Hand your card in to my receptionist and leave your uniform with Leanne as soon as possible. You’re fired. Now get out.”