by J. S Ellis
‘Cock teaser!’ he shouted.
8th May
Evening,
Diary,
Today was my first day back to work, so I made sure I was on my best behavior. I didn’t even think about drinking.
There were no warm welcomes, not that I expected any in this business, everyone focuses on deadlines and money. I’m in the wrong career. I only wanted to become an accountant because I’m good with numbers. As a job; it sucks.
All I got was a hello, and a file placed in my hands to crack straight on.
I should quit this job and go into teaching accounts. I’d be good at that. I don’t see why not? I’m well qualified for the job. I can tell Richard I’m ready to move out of the city. The poor man stayed in London because of me. He wanted to live in the country, far away from the madness and the noise.
I could quit my job, move and start to teach. We’d be able to start over again and put all of this behind us. I’d look back on it all and see it as a stupid thing I did while I was still young. I’m thirty-eight in two years, I’m forty, there will be no more growing up for me to do. I am not young anymore, and I better accept this. Michael represents youth, and I wanted to taste it again. The youth I’m fast leaving behind. No, that’s not what triggered me into Michael’s arms, but I did need to be honest with someone without having any shame. The stuff Michael said to me was awful, but it didn’t make them less true.
10th May
Evening,
Diary,
I’m scared! I think someone was following me, but I can’t be too sure. I could hear footsteps behind me, and when I stopped to look, the footsteps stopped. I couldn’t see anyone, but as I quickened my pace, the footsteps behind me got faster too. I took off my heels and ended up running. I was only a block away from the apartment, so it didn’t take me long, but I shit myself. Was someone actually following me? Or am I going mad? I ran inside the entrance hall to the apartments. Checking to see no-one followed me in, I noticed a figure appeared in front of me. I screamed and then breathed a sigh of relief to see it was my neighbor Mr. Smith!
‘Sophie, are you all right?’ he asked, concerned.
‘Yes, I’m sorry for screaming... you scared me.’
‘You seem awfully jumpy,’ he said, ‘are you sure you’re alright?’
‘Y-yes I’m fine. I’d better go, good night and thanks.’
When I went into the living room, Richard was on the sofa reading a newspaper. He was dressed in jeans and a red sweater. He checked his wristwatch, ‘Where have you been, you’re late.’
He noticed my bare feet and looked confused.
‘My heels were hurting.’ I said, placing my shoes by the door. I went into the kitchen and peered through the window.
All I could see was a couple strolling by, and orange streetlights glimmering through the street. Nothing suspicious, nothing out of the ordinary. Maybe my mind was playing tricks on me.
13th May
Evening,
Diary,
Had such a weird day. It’s getting scary now. Maybe I should take action.
I arrived at the office with my head buzzing after a long business lunch with a client. All I wanted to do was to lock myself in the office. I made sure my makeup was immaculate, and everything was in place. When I passed by Wendy’s desk, she told me who had called and left messages.
‘Your cousin’s waiting for you in your office,’ she said.
I stared at her blankly my cousin? I don’t have any. ‘My cousin?’
‘I’m so sorry, but he insisted on waiting for you there... I didn’t know you had such eccentric family members,’ she said with a smile. Who was in there?
‘Thank you,’ I said.
My jaw dropped, Andy was sitting with his feet up on my desk, smoking a cigarette! Goodness knows what my colleagues must have thought of this young man, dressed in a white shirt, black leather trousers, hat, waistcoat and scarf, and jewelry flying all over the place. Everyone who works here, and our clients, are conservative by comparison.
‘Had a pleasant lunch?’ he asked.
I shut the door behind me. ‘What are you doing in my office?
He stretched his hands behind his back. ‘Come on now let’s not get dramatic, shall we?’
‘If you don’t get out now, I’ll call security,’ I said in a firm tone.
He puffed circles of smoke. ‘Is this how you greet your clients? How rude.’
‘You’re not a client. Why did tell my secretary you are my cousin!’
‘Nice office you have here. What’s the word... swanky, or, is it posh... no, clean?’
‘I like things clean.’
He laughed, ‘Ironic,’ he paused, ‘for a woman who’s so dirty.’
My mind went haywire. Andy must know about Michael and me, otherwise, why he would say such a thing.
‘How dare you! Get out now!’ I shouted.
He carried on smoking, staring straight at me. I glanced at my laptop, calculator, pens, and client confidential file, which he had swept to one side, and seethed with anger.
‘You have no right to move my things.’
He laughed. My anger rose up a notch. ‘This a non-smoking office,’ I snapped.
‘Says the smoker.’
‘Put it out now!’ I shouted, ‘and get out!’
I imagined Wendy hearing me shouting, wondering what we were doing. Andy got up, tossed the cigarette onto the floor and crushed it under his shoe. ‘Is this better?’ He looked to see my reaction, enjoying every minute of his stupid game. ‘There’s something I forgot to mention the other night.’
‘Go on.’
‘Come down to the flat tonight, you know where I live.’
‘No, I bloody will not! Tell me now!’
He ambled towards the door. ‘The guys will be out. Evelyne is with her parents. Come whenever you want, I’ll be there all night, waiting, impatiently.’ He opened the door and winked at me. My legs were about to give in. I sat on the chair and buried my face in my hands.
Got home in a daze. Richard was already back, looking dapper in a tailored grey three-piece suit.
‘Ah,’ he said ‘there you are. How was your day?’ he asked.
‘My day was peachy, what about yours?’
‘There are conflicts in the New York office. I might have to fly out there.’
‘Oh.’
‘It’s only for a few days.’
‘Oh.’
‘You sound disappointed.’
‘I hate it when you go away. I don’t like to be alone in this apartment.’
‘But you love this apartment.’
‘I do, but...’
‘But what?’ he asked.
‘It’s nothing, Richard. I’ll cook us a nice dinner,’ I said, going into the kitchen, ‘I’m meeting Sylvie later tonight. She’s having boyfriend troubles and needs my moral support.’
He reached for a book and read the back. ‘Boyfriend troubles, again,’ he said.
‘Something like that.’
When you lie so much, the fictional excuses come out so freely you start to believe them yourself. I made roast pork for dinner. Richard watched me gorging down my food, dipping roasted potatoes in ketchup. He finds me repulsive.
My brain made calculations, I couldn’t go to Andy. It’s dangerous, and I don’t trust him. He has an agenda. Why Evelyne’s place anyway? Why has he waited until now to tell me whatever he has to say? Why couldn’t he tell me another time, in another place? Maybe he wanted to assure discretion. I don’t want to be alone with him or anywhere for that matter.
After dinner, Richard showered, while I got my things ready for tomorrow. I took out the dress I wore that night. Maybe Andy could provide the missing link or even a clue. I knocked on the bathroom door.
‘Richard, I’m going. Don’t wait up, okay? You know how Sylvie is.’
‘Yes, try not to be too long.’
As I left the building, I peered up at the windows, at all the apartm
ent lights, and wondered what kind of life everyone leads inside. Are their lives as fucked up as mine? The wind sung through the trees, a paper bag danced in the air.
I pressed the buzzer of Evelyne’s apartment and waited. My shoulders were tight, and my breath burst in and out. No answer. I knocked on the door. My knees went weak. I waited. No response. And just as I was about to turn and leave, I heard a voice from behind the door. ‘Coming, coming.’ Andy opened the door, puffing on a cigarette, ‘hello.’
‘Hi’
‘Come in,’ he said, opening the door wider.
I expected the apartment to be in disarray but, to my surprise, it was neat. There were many beautiful, expensive guitars lying around from Les Paul, acoustics, to archtops. It was like a guitar store in there. I don’t recall the last time I played one. There was a red sofa in the middle of the living room, fashionable, modern art hanging on the walls, a bar in the corner with a variety of booze, and a large curved TV, PlayStation, and video games on the floor. On the coffee table, there were music books and classic novels, a laptop and a hat, along with bracelets and rings.
The smell of burnt wood and vanilla gave the place a warm, cozy scent combined with a more pungent and distinct smell, similar to the aroma I recall from time to time.
Did Andy do something to me? Was this the smell I’ve been remembering? My heart thudded. Then I realized as he picked up a joint and started puffing on it, that the pungent smell was, in fact, weed. It made me high just by passively inhaling. He shut the door to the living room and circled around me like a shark.
‘I thought you weren’t coming,’ he said softly, his shoes clicking under the parquet.
‘I was busy,’ I said, with beads of sweat surfacing on my forehead.
Andy poured two glass of cognac and handed me a glass. ‘Drink, Sophie.’
I wanted him to stop calling my name as if he was mocking me. I looked down at the glass Andy gave me like it was a dangerous and tempting drug. He didn’t take his eyes off me. I sipped the cognac, and the liquid warmed to my body temperature.
He offered me a cigarette and lit it with a zippo. The flip of the lid sounded familiar. I sat on the red sofa, while Andy remained on his feet, his eyes not leaving me. We smoked in silence. I felt myself shaking and shifted my body to hide it from him. He watched me as though I were a piece of fine art in a museum.
He smiled, and took a puff on his joint, blowing the smoke into the air. ‘Your face is unique. There’s nothing traditional about it. Your jaw is wide, your cheeks high and pouty, but beautiful just the same,’ he said quietly.
‘Do you tell this to all women?’ I said.
‘I have been with many beautiful women, but no, not to all.’
‘I’m not here to listen to you go on about your women or to hear your compliments.’
‘Always business-like, why don’t loosen up and have fun occasionally? Who knows you might grow to like it. With you accountants, everything has to be serious and boring.’
‘And what gives you the impression all accountants are boring?’
He laughed. ‘Please.’
‘What did you want to tell me?’
‘You came here to find out about that night, and that’s all right?’
‘I can’t think of any other reason why I should be here.’
‘Fine, if that’s how you want to play it. What Sam and Mike didn’t tell you, and I don’t hold it against them, is that you got in a fight.’
‘With who?’
‘Sam’s girlfriend.’
I stared at him. ‘I didn’t know Sam has a girlfriend.’
‘You do now... anyway, she came in and saw you two dancing, and she’s not exactly the laid-back kind of gal... she wasn’t happy and well, anyway, she pushed you and told you to fuck off. You left, but she wouldn’t let it go, so she followed you out and slapped you. Sam and I had a bad feeling, Angie, Sam’s girl was going to hurt you, so we followed you out. Boy, you women when you get angry, you become dangerous.’
‘She slapped me?’
‘Yea, she knocked you over, and you blacked out.’
I stared at him. Me, in a fight with Sam’s girlfriend? It sounded preposterous, but I waited for him to go on.
‘So you were out cold, then Mike came out and began to panic. Sam and Angie got into a big fight and left together. I got in an argument with Evelyne, and Mike stayed with you until your friend came back.’
I found this a little strange, why didn’t he didn’t tell me the truth right away. He wouldn’t keep it from me because I got in a fight with someone’s girlfriend. I remember, Evelyne in the red dress, arguing with Andy. If I blacked out before her outburst with Andy, why do I have a recollection of it? It doesn’t make any sense.
He reached for the bottle of cognac and refilled my glass.
‘Yes, I know Mike didn’t tell you everything. We figured it was best you didn’t know. I mean who wants to know they got into a fight because of some bloke like Sam. Mike was doing you a favor.’
‘No, he wasn’t, he lied.’
‘No, he didn’t lie to you, he kept things from you.’
‘It’s the same. You should have told me this from the start.’
‘Mike’s a good lad. He’s the most sensible one among us. He told me he ran into you the next morning after your blackout, about how disoriented and horrified you were when you found out you’d passed out, so he decided to shut up and say no more.’
What about me? He can’t decide for me. I have a say in this too. My mind raced as Andy watched me. My head spun. I emptied the glass. Andy refilled it, again.
‘Is this Angie still in the picture?’
‘No, they broke up soon after. Sam attracts these kinds of chicks.’
She’s not in the picture because she doesn’t even exist!
‘What kind?’ I asked.
‘Psychotic types,’ he replied.
‘Charming.’
‘Indeed.’
‘Sam could have said something when I bumped into him.’
‘Tell you what, his psycho ex-girlfriend wanted to gorge your eyes out. That’s what Angie would have done if we hadn’t followed her out.’
I took a sip from my cognac. ‘I need to talk to him.’
He gave me a stern look. ‘Why?’
I finished my cognac. Andy refilled it again. He seemed eager to get me drunk. I placed my hand on the glass to cover it.
‘I don’t know... to get his side of the story, I guess.’
‘What good will that do? Just leave it behind you and move on. You can’t stay in the past, let it be.’
My hands began to shake. I placed the glass on the coffee table. I paced the room, smoking, trying to recall something from that night, but nothing. He lit a cigarette with his Zippo. The grating sound of the flap made me jump. That sound, I’d heard it somewhere before. Andy placed his hands on my arms. ‘You’re jumping at every sound, what are you afraid of?’
‘I’m not afraid, I’m just...’
My stomach lurched. He moved closer. I could feel the heat from his body. I had to leave. I’d heard enough porky pies!
My instinct told me this is not how it happened. I know it’s not. I think Andy might have twisted the story, because I’m persistent, and to make me shut up and move on.
On my way out of the apartment, Sam and Nicky were on their way in. Their laughter stopped, wondering what the fuck I was doing there. I knew what they thinking, Andy alone, his girlfriend away. I didn’t have to justify myself to anyone. I ran past them and hurried home to Richard, who was sound asleep in bed.
15th May
Evening,
Diary,
Richard’s going away to New York again, to take care of the company’s international customers. It’s different this time. I want to fall to my knees and clutch hold of his leg like little girls do to their fathers, and beg him not to go. I don’t want to be alone in this apartment.
‘It’s only for fifteen days,’ he sai
d.
‘Fifteen days!’ I cried.
God knows what might happen in fifteen days!
He searched my face. I bet he could tell. ‘Is something the matter?’
I broke eye contact from him. ‘No...’
I don’t understand Richard sometimes. It’s like he lives in his own bubble and shuts me out. When he came in today, he laid on the sofa with his bloody newspaper. Not saying a word. As if I wasn’t even there. I don’t expect him to be chatty all the time, and he needs his own space, but lately, I don’t know, he seems troubled and distant. This fills me with anxiety and absolute dread. Is it work? Or does he suspect something and refuses to confront me about it because he fears he’ll lose me?
20th May
Afternoon
Diary,
Richard left today to go to New York. The apartment feels like a prison cell. It feels like someone’s watching me, wherever I am. I can feel a pair of eyes on me, playing hide and seek with me from the shadows. Maybe it’s my imagination, or I’m growing paranoid. Am I losing my mind?
Andy told me I got into a fight with Sam’s girlfriend, Angie, but I still don’t believe him. There’s more to that night, like the sound of a Zippo lid flipping, the music, and the smell. Did Andy do something to me? Or was he involved? Maybe, I should go and see a therapist to help me regain my memory. What disturbs me the most is, if I do manage-by some miracle-to remember, what then? What if it’s too upsetting?
22nd May
Evening,
Diary,
I’m a weak, stupid woman!
I spent a couple of hours cleaning the bedroom and ensuite. I washed the bath, changed the sheets, and dusted the bedroom. I wanted to take my mind off everything, but I ended up collapsing in a heap, craving wine, and cigarettes. I am trying to be good, but all this is driving me nuts.
I went to the grocery store before it got dark. On my way out of the store, I saw Michael coming out of where Evelyne lives. He saw me and stopped dead in his tracks. I hurried inside the entrance to my apartment block and called for the lift. I could hear footsteps rushing towards the lift. I didn’t know if it was him or not, because the lift doors closed. I imagined him running up the stairwell, and placed my hand on my chest, feeling my heart palpitating.
I got my front door keys ready in my hand, and as soon as the lift doors opened, I bolted to my front door. I heard the stairwell door bang open and turned to see Michael walking over to me. I rammed the keys into the lock, tears falling down my cheeks. Why the hell was he doing this to me? Anyone could have seen him. Didn’t he care how risky it was, how easily everything could come out into the open? Or consider that Richard might be here. It was like he knew Richard was away?