The Property Manager: You'll never rent again... Page 9
You don’t mention me once in the entire diary. You obviously started a new diary when you moved to Babylon. Jesus, Grace, you wouldn’t even have a home in town if it wasn’t for me. I should rate a mention. We are organizing the Trivia night together. We’ve had a drink and eaten at the same table.
One interesting bit of information that I gleaned however, was the numerical password to the alarm and security system for the surgery. That is the sort of info that a person really ought to put to memory and then discard and destroy. If I was an unscrupulous person or a drug addict, that five digit number for the outside door and your personal security number to disarm the alarm would be very, very useful to me.
Why don’t you write about me, Gracie? Have I made so little an impression? Perhaps you mention me when you talk to Jenny.
Pondering on that, I remembered that I had the telephone recording device in the car. Frank had talked me through the installation procedures and it sounded as easy as pie.
I stole outside as furtively as I could but of course there was no sign of anyone anywhere. The whole town was ghoulishly mourning at the church. I went to the car and got the bug out of the box in my boot, returned to your room and pulled your bed away from the wall so I could attach it to your phone jack. I pushed the bed back into position. You won’t notice it there. The dust under your bed tells me that you are not particular enough to vacuum beneath the ensemble. The transmitter and my recording receiver will work wirelessly up to a distance of one kilometre. That means I can park in any one of the surrounding streets, which is much less risky than sitting in my car not far down your road.
Your dirty underwear lay on the floor beside the bed. I put your panties in my pocket (isn’t that the thing to do?). I don’t want the lacy black things in your house any more. He was the last one to touch them so they must be destroyed. As an after- thought I went into your bathroom and wrote the word SLUT on your mirror in your own red lipstick. A nice and eerie touch I thought. Very reminiscent of the Manson murders. You will, no doubt, assume it was his wife. Who else would know? Who else would care? That might be enough for you to STOP this madness. Be warned, Grace – you are teetering on the brink of a very long fall off a very tall cliff-face. Pull yourself back and put this all behind you.
I have forgiven you. Don’t think I have done that lightly and don’t for one second think I will do it again. Fool me once….
I could make life very difficult for you my dear.
Good-bye. I am tired and emotionally drained. Bed beckons.
Did you have fun at the funeral? Are you home? Have you read my message? Do you realize now, how bad you’ve been? Reflect and repent.
It will all be all right. Nothing great comes without hardship. I will step over this obstacle and not look back.
4/07/05 Sunday
I allowed myself to sleep in. It is Sunday after all.
After breakfast my mother called, whining that I didn’t love her because I hadn’t been to visit her all week-end. That is your fault, Grace. I probably would have driven down to see her yesterday but your outrageous behaviour, sucked the energy and life out of me. I need today to recover. I told Mum a little about you. She was very pleased to hear that I am seeing someone. She has worried about me for some time. I told her you are a beautiful widow with three lovely boys. I told her you are intelligent and funny and without going into too much detail, I explained that you are a bit confused and messed up at the moment. Mother agreed that it was my place to stay close by and help you to see your way more clearly. Hearing about you certainly cheered her up. She hinted that she would like to see a wedding before she dies.
I am going for a run down into the national park this afternoon. I will push myself to the limit. The steep hill down Federation Drive will do me the world of good. I’ll feel that in my calf and thigh muscles for the next week, I’m sure.
I do need to come over to your place tonight to make sure there is no repeat performance of Friday night. I’m going to have to come over every night for a while. When a child misbehaves, discipline must increase until you are sure that the lesson has been learned. I don’t want to play the role of your father, Grace – that’s just weird. But if you are going to act like a wayward teenager you do need someone to take the reigns and pull you back into line.
11:24 p.m
Home. I feel quite energized now. Happy to report that you are tucked up alone in your bed until Harry complains about the dark and crawls in with you some time in the wee hours of the morning. I’ve got a good hour or more of you on the telephone.
First there was Jenny. You invited her over because her girls were spending the night with their father and you needed to talk to someone. I sometimes think you women need to view aloneness as an acceptable state to be in. Not all the time…but it is essential to give yourself quality time with yourself. Women go to the bathroom together, go to the gym together, hang together at play groups etc. You won’t see as much of Jenny once I’m filling in more spaces but I will dote on you so much you won’t miss her at all. While waiting for her to arrive with the two bottles of champagne you ordered, you had a quick chat with your mother. She sounded very nice. You obviously have a nice relationship with her. And then……you got a call from that bastard’s wife. I held my breath thinking you were going to get an earful but she was ringing you to invite you to a formal dinner party. It seems that your cheating lover is a part-time opera singer. If I didn’t hate him so intensely I would be impressed. Although jazz is my thing, I am very partial to a little Puccini myself. I’m thinking it would be appropriate now to add a little “Nessun Dorma” to my sound track of the Gracie film. I have downloaded a program which will guide me step by step through the film-making process. I can edit and add music and voice over. It is really going to be something else. Nessun dorma means - none shall sleep - and that is frightfully appropriate for Friday night! Don’t you think?
Part of me wants to leave that awful scene on the cutting room floor but…I figure we are all imperfect humans, capable of mistakes and misdeeds but -perhaps if I include it as a dark moment in the beginning of our relationship, it will act as a reminder of how close you came to making a very big mistake.
Anyway, I digress.
Even with the slightly grainy images from the smoke alarm in the kitchen/hallway alcove, I could see you go pale at the sound of the wife’s voice. You sat down very fast on the bar stool and for the first time that I have witnessed, appeared speechless. You made some movement with your mouth and lips that told me that you had a sudden, dry mouth.
Jenny arrived while you were on the phone to THE WIFE. She was inviting you to a concert by the “Babylon Choir”, in which HE was singing on late Wednesday afternoon, followed by a dinner at their place. I willed you to say “no.” It was disturbingly obvious that either this woman knew what was going on and completely condoned it or she had absolutely no idea. There was no hint of suspicion. Why was she inviting you? It doesn’t make a lot of sense. She even said “Andrew would love you to come.” I sat with my mouth opening, wondering if she had ANY IDEA what she had just said. I know for a fact that he would love you to come because I HAVE SEEN IT!!!!
I was watching you on my computer screen, while listening to your conversation on an earpiece attached to my recording devise that looked a lot like an MP3 player. My teeth clenched to point of cracking when you ACCEPTED the invitation. You, my dear, are going to see that man sing and sit at a table while his wife serves you dinner – OVER MY DEAD BODY.
I am surprised that you can’t see the inappropriateness of all this. Perhaps you were not thinking clearly. You did look taken aback when you heard who was on the phone. I bet you, like me, thought you were about to be given a verbal thrashing.
You have told Jenny about this affair. At first I was cross that you’d divulged such intimate and embarrassing information but girls will gossip and I was pleased to hear that Jenny thinks you are walking across broken glass that will inevitably rip your f
eet to shreds, too. Listen to your friend because your conscience is not talking loud enough.
Jenny was deeply suspicious about the wife’s call. Her take on it is that they want to drag you into some sordid threesome act. You cringed at that idea but it really isn’t that much more disgusting than what you have already done.
You kept shaking your head and pacing trying to figure out who had written SLUT on your bathroom mirror.
You told Jenny you were so sure it had been Amanda Cox. You were terrified of her vengeance but after her phone call you didn’t think so anymore.
Jenny suggested that one of your older boys had done it.
“Never!” You were horrified at the idea. But after some persuasion by Jenny you began to worry.
Perhaps they heard you or saw the two of you mauling each other on the way to the bedroom. Jenny spoke softly of this and it upset you to think of that as a possibility. Good! You should be upset. I don’t think your boys were aware of the happenings. It was too late at night but the fact remains that they COULD HAVE!
The two of you guzzled the bubbly and you relaxed a bit while Jenny just got silly. You kept turning the conversation back to Andy, Andy, Andy. I felt a pulse in my temple and hissed at you to shut-up!
Fortunately your giggling girlfriend felt the same and changed the subject to OUR joint venture – the Trivia Night. Jenny agreed to work the front door. It will all fall into place Gracie and even though I shouldn’t, I’ll probably throw a few theological and a few theatrical questions in the mix just for you.
After your friend left you looked in on the boys and told one of them to go to sleep. I heard most of that but didn’t have a visual. It was probably Harry the mini-insomniac.
You locked your sliding door (unusual) and left the bathroom light on. You crawled into bed fully clothed and lay staring at the wall for about ten minutes before drifting off.
I wanted to touch your hair and stroke your face gently and whisper in your ear that everything would work out. I would not let you lose your way again.
5/07/05
Monday morning…tell me why I don’t like Mondays….I want to shooooooooot the whole day down.
Who would have thought when that song came out, that one day Bob Geldoff would not only be knighted but hailed as a modern day saint?
I got up early and watched my footage of you. I also listened to the hour or so of phone recordings. I want this film to be about the same length as a regular film – about ninety minutes. I’m not getting as riled watching you mate with that scumbag. I’m stepping back and viewing it as a psychologist. What I’m seeing are two desperate people. Your desperation stems from loss and loneliness his from pure selfishness and lack of moral fibre. It is not an act of tenderness and love but of frantic almost abusive animal lust.
Shallow. Quick. Like an itch that had to be scratched, leaving a raw red spot that you wished you hadn’t itched because you only made it worse!
I don’t watch a lot of movies. I know people who sit down to a DVD or two every night. I think that is a waste of time. We are only alive for a certain amount of hours. Many of those are spent asleep. To spend three or four hours a day watching films about other people’s lives seems ridiculous. They are saying “Instead of living my life and filling it with experiences, I’ll sit on my bum and stare at a screen where strangers act out other people’s lives.”
Books can be the same. I have nothing against a good read or a movie now and again but many people fall into the trap of living their lives through either medium. The Internet has combined the two and what a hit that has been! Now you can watch anything and read anything at any time of the day or night. It is actually quite frightening.
I wanted to listen to you on the phone. I wanted to watch you cook, play on your computer and sleep and it only took half an hour of research on the internet to discover how to do it and where to buy the necessary equipment. I could even have bought it all on line and had the stuff delivered to my door. It was quicker to go into town and purchase it myself, though. I don’t like giving my credit card details over the net unless I absolutely must.
If I wanted to strap an explosive devise to my chest and catch the train to the city next week, the good old internet would have a site somewhere to tell me how to construct and detonate it.
I can view autopsy shots, see women having sex with horses, get a recipe for monkey brain soup and zoom in with Google Earth to look at your rooftop.
I can post pictures of myself for people to view. If I was so inclined I could put the video of you humping Mr Cox on the net so that everyone in town could watch. I have the Cockhead’s details on their rental application form so I have the wife’s e-mail address as well as his. I could send it directly to her. She’d probably enjoy watching it almost as much as I do!
6:50 p.m.
Did you enjoy your Mediterranean Chicken for lunch, Grace? My spinach rolls certainly hit the spot. I managed to put the week-end behind me and asked you to lunch so that we could discuss the Trivia Night. You were pleased that I had almost finished writing the questions. I’ve organized them into ten sets of ten. Karen had printed up some leaflets and I gave you a large stack of them to give to your drama students to distribute. They look good, don’t they? Simple but catchy.
I’ve got the guys from the nursery to agree to donate gift vouchers. Bruce has donated a few of his expensive pieces of pottery and the butcher has thrown in a large meat tray. The Mountain View Guest House has donated a dinner for ten to the winning table as well as a case of quality mixed wine.
It’s all falling into place. I’m glad you found my suggestion that Dr Myer give a few scripts for morphine, amusing. He does after all have a reputation for being generous with his prescription pad!
You casually mentioned that you were going to the choral singing on Wednesday evening, at St. Andrew’s church. I rolled my eyes and told you how terribly tedious the choir was. You didn’t seem to care. I wonder why.
So I took a different tact. I pretended that I had interpreted your comments as an invitation. You looked a bit surprised but were gracious about it.
“Sure, come along. It starts at five.”
“But I don’t finish work until six and neither do you.” I sounded a bit snappy and tried to calm myself.
You told me you were taking the afternoon off and there was a twinkle in your eye.
“Really?” I sneered. “It must be awfully important to you.” My words were weighted with innuendo but you appeared oblivious.
“One of your tenants is singing…..you know….. Andrew Cox?” You sounded so innocent it was quite sad.
“Oh yes,” I shook my head with a wry smile. “Be careful, Gracie. He’s got quite a reputation with the ladies. His poor wife…they really are a bit of a joke in town.”
I put my hand to my mouth and widened my eyes in mock regret.
“I shouldn’t have said that. It’s not my place. I just thought I should warn you. You’re a nice girl and I wouldn’t want anyone to take advantage of you.”
Your face looked grey and the twinkle in your eye was replaced by a sudden tear that looked so painful even I could feel the sting.
You pretended to have something in your eye and dabbed at it with a napkin. I paid the bill, insisting you put your money away and then you began to leave without even taking the flyers with you. Poor Gracie was very distracted by my last comment, weren’t you? It wasn’t true – about the town reputation. I’ve never heard a word about them. But if he’ll jump into the sack so quickly with you, giving no thought to his wedding vows, I can guarantee he’s done it before and he’ll do it again.
11:45 p.m
I’m tired and have a headache. I’ve looked for aspirin but can’t remember ever having bought some…Maybe I did when I had strep throat. I was pretty befuddled then. Yes. I did. I remember getting some along with the anti-biotics. I’ll go back and check the cupboard again.
Found them and took two.
Had a cl
ose call tonight. I parked a little way down your street and had the lap-top open. (People are calling them notebooks these days, but I refuse) I was concentrating on watching you sitting in front of your computer screen and didn’t notice the group of teenagers until they were right beside me.
I heard them and almost jumped out of my skin. Bloody hooligans gave me quite a start. They were all dressed in black as the young people of the town tend to do, these days. In the dark night they looked like a band of marauding vampires.
I think they had cans of alcohol. A couple of boys and a few girls. I slammed the screen down, put it on the passenger seat and fiddled with my ignition until it turned over.
That gave the kids a start as I don’t think they’d seen me there.
I pulled away from the curb and crept away as some light but jovial abuse was thrown my way. Driving slowly, I kept an eye on them in the rear vision mirror. They were, not very surprisingly, headed down your driveway. One of them might have been your eldest son. I’m sure none of them took note of the car or the driver but I need to be more careful. Your boy’s girlfriend’s mother is my workmate and they know my car.
Anyways, no harm done! I’ll be more alert to the comings and goings of your adolescent boys and their friends. But…I am exceptionally pleased to know that I have the password to your e-mail account. How, you may ask, did I manage such a feat?
I’ve got about twenty-five minutes of your back as you sat at your desk, searching the net for real estate in New York City. I found that a little strange but not as strange as the few minutes you spent checking a site about the Biblical character of Lazarus. I could only get snippets of clear view at the computer as you swung about on your chair and leaned across to get paper and pen. You left the room for about four minutes and came back with a cup of tea or coffee. While you were gone, I adjusted the angle of the office camera. I’m not sure if it makes a clicking noise or not and didn’t want to risk it while you were present. When you returned I had a much clearer view of the screen and the keyboard.