thought I’d win one, one day.” You sighed melodramatically.
I smiled back at you.
“You’ve done a nice job with the house. I knew it would suit you.”
It took two minutes to relight the pilot light and return the switches to ‘on’. I glanced down to where I had been crouched last night and smiled to myself at the memory of your soapy body. You thanked me and that was that.
You paid your rent before I had a chance to mention your arrears, so the whole gas charade had been quite pointless. But I did have fun along the way.
It’s nearly midnight now and I’ve just had a shower. I wanted to see how your dinner went with the Cox family, so I parked a few doors down the road from them and watched in the rear view mirror as you knocked on their door with a bottle of wine at seven-thirty. You didn’t take the boys and obviously left the oldest boy in charge. I don’t know if I like you going out at night without leaving a responsible adult at home.
I got out and walked down through the vacant block beside their house. They have a large dog so I was playing it safe. I could see the shadow of the creature sitting by the appalling fence that Mr Cox had erected. It was a complete disaster with rickety posts and a chaotic mess of chicken wire strung up. The dog didn’t move and I got close enough that I could hear his panting. Not much of a guard dog, despite his size. I imagine he’s one of those gentle giants that would sooner lick you to death than bite.
I could hear nothing from inside and the house is set quite high so I could see nothing of interest either. Quite a time-wasting exercise so I went back to the car and after a time drifted of to sleep. Fortunately I heard your engine start up. It would have been far from amusing to wake up stiff-necked with the sunrise. Unlikely, as I’m a terribly light sleeper. A borderline insomniac.
You must have had a good time because you didn’t drive away from there until 11:40 pm. You might have had a few too many wines as well because you pretty much drove straight over the mini round-about in Hill Street. Don’t do that again please. It’s a twenty minute walk to your friends’ place. If you are ever invited back, I would prefer that you walk. I don’t want you to plough into a tree. For my sake and that of your children, don’t drive after drinking!
I didn’t follow you home but saw you turn into your street. You couldn’t do much damage, from that point, other than driving into your front door.
I’m going to bed. I wonder what you think of the necklace. It should’ve arrived today.
Kisses blown your way.
24/06/05 Thursday
I’m just home from work. A long day. I have taken tomorrow off work so I can bring my mother home from hospital. The old duck has made a good recovery. I’ll settle her in at home and organize the Blue Nurses to come to the house and wash her and check her scalp for any sign of infection. I might stay overnight and do some shopping in Sydney.
I’m feeling a bit flat. I wonder if you were hung-over this morning. You were late to work. I couldn’t see either of your older sons at the bus stop so perhaps you all had a bleary start this morning. They probably had a late night because they had no adult to tell them to go to bed. Tut. Tut. Let’s not make a habit of that, eh, Grace?
Did you hear all the sirens this afternoon? I was showing a house in Smith Street to a pleasant young couple when the commotion began. Coming back into town I noted quite a few police cars and wagons milling about the police station and two ambulances screamed past me, heading south. I asked a few of the shop keepers if they knew what it was all about. No one knew anything. Back in the office I started ringing to confirm details on the application form for Smith Street when one ambulance screamed back the other way, siren blaring and lights flashing. A forensic van drove south, slowly. It was becoming obvious to
I smiled back at you.
“You’ve done a nice job with the house. I knew it would suit you.”
It took two minutes to relight the pilot light and return the switches to ‘on’. I glanced down to where I had been crouched last night and smiled to myself at the memory of your soapy body. You thanked me and that was that.
You paid your rent before I had a chance to mention your arrears, so the whole gas charade had been quite pointless. But I did have fun along the way.
It’s nearly midnight now and I’ve just had a shower. I wanted to see how your dinner went with the Cox family, so I parked a few doors down the road from them and watched in the rear view mirror as you knocked on their door with a bottle of wine at seven-thirty. You didn’t take the boys and obviously left the oldest boy in charge. I don’t know if I like you going out at night without leaving a responsible adult at home.
I got out and walked down through the vacant block beside their house. They have a large dog so I was playing it safe. I could see the shadow of the creature sitting by the appalling fence that Mr Cox had erected. It was a complete disaster with rickety posts and a chaotic mess of chicken wire strung up. The dog didn’t move and I got close enough that I could hear his panting. Not much of a guard dog, despite his size. I imagine he’s one of those gentle giants that would sooner lick you to death than bite.
I could hear nothing from inside and the house is set quite high so I could see nothing of interest either. Quite a time-wasting exercise so I went back to the car and after a time drifted of to sleep. Fortunately I heard your engine start up. It would have been far from amusing to wake up stiff-necked with the sunrise. Unlikely, as I’m a terribly light sleeper. A borderline insomniac.
You must have had a good time because you didn’t drive away from there until 11:40 pm. You might have had a few too many wines as well because you pretty much drove straight over the mini round-about in Hill Street. Don’t do that again please. It’s a twenty minute walk to your friends’ place. If you are ever invited back, I would prefer that you walk. I don’t want you to plough into a tree. For my sake and that of your children, don’t drive after drinking!
I didn’t follow you home but saw you turn into your street. You couldn’t do much damage, from that point, other than driving into your front door.
I’m going to bed. I wonder what you think of the necklace. It should’ve arrived today.
Kisses blown your way.
24/06/05 Thursday
I’m just home from work. A long day. I have taken tomorrow off work so I can bring my mother home from hospital. The old duck has made a good recovery. I’ll settle her in at home and organize the Blue Nurses to come to the house and wash her and check her scalp for any sign of infection. I might stay overnight and do some shopping in Sydney.
I’m feeling a bit flat. I wonder if you were hung-over this morning. You were late to work. I couldn’t see either of your older sons at the bus stop so perhaps you all had a bleary start this morning. They probably had a late night because they had no adult to tell them to go to bed. Tut. Tut. Let’s not make a habit of that, eh, Grace?
Did you hear all the sirens this afternoon? I was showing a house in Smith Street to a pleasant young couple when the commotion began. Coming back into town I noted quite a few police cars and wagons milling about the police station and two ambulances screamed past me, heading south. I asked a few of the shop keepers if they knew what it was all about. No one knew anything. Back in the office I started ringing to confirm details on the application form for Smith Street when one ambulance screamed back the other way, siren blaring and lights flashing. A forensic van drove south, slowly. It was becoming obvious to
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