one with shaggy hair,” he said. “I don’t know his name sorry, but he’s always polite and greets me on his way up to your apartment.”
“How does he get in?” I asked. The palms of my hands felt sweaty.
“He has a key. I can see on the CCTV monitors that he lets himself in.”
Thanking the concierge, I went up to my apartment. Patricia rushed over and grabbed my shoulders to look me in the eye.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “You’re as white as a ghost and shaking like a leaf!”
“My mystery visitor is Bruce. Apparently he has a key and lets himself in regularly.” I sank into the sofa, feeling totally deflated.
Patricia picked up the phone and rang the police. Surprisingly, the constabulary arrived quite promptly.
“I had a one-night stand with him several weeks ago,” I told the constables, “and he scared my friend Ruth one day a couple of weeks later by telling her he had been following me, but since then I thought things were fine. He’s dating my friend, Kento.”
While I was giving details to the police, the locksmith arrived. Patricia greeted him and set him to work. The police left, promising to review the CCTV footage at the concierge’s desk and to have a chat with Bruce at Kento’s apartment.
Shakily, I went into my bedroom to prepare for work. I hugged Patricia on my way out, leaving her to handle the locksmith.
* * *
I was dreading lunch with Kento. How can I tell him that his boyfriend is stalking me? I took a deep breath and went into the sushi bar. Kento waved at me, and I sat down at the table.
“It’s so nice having you to myself today…“ he started. I held up my hand to stop his rant.
“I need to talk to you,” I said. “I don’t want to, but I have to.”
“What is it?” he asked, confused at this change in routine. Usually I let him talk himself out at the start of every lunch.
“Bruce has been stalking me,” I said. “Somehow he’s gotten a key to my apartment, and he lets himself in.”
“No way!” Kento exclaimed.
“It’s true,” I said calmly. I went on to tell him how I’d used Justin to deceive Bruce and forced him into leaving the night we slept together. I told him about Bruce’s confrontation with Ruth, on the same day that Bruce just happened to bump into my chair and insert himself into Kento’s life. I told him about the CCTV footage and the concierge’s statement that Bruce was a regular visitor to my apartment. I told him about the coffee and the laundry. The whole time, Kento’s expression grew darker and darker with anger, like storm clouds rolling in on a clear day. I wasn’t sure if he was angry with me, or with Bruce.
“You’re lying!” he said after I’d finished, standing up and pointing his finger at me. “You don’t want me to be happy! You’re trying to ruin the one good thing I have in my life! You don’t want me to be happy!”
After his outburst, Kento stormed out of the restaurant. I sank my head into my hands as the staff and customers looked on in bemusement. They hadn’t realised that lunch came with a show.
* * *
Jogging along the towpath helped me sort out my thoughts and emotions. What had started out as a tangled mass was now sorting itself into a series of clear, defined, straight lines.
I could determine the feelings associated with Kento. I was disappointed in his reaction but, knowing him as I do, I could understand it. We’ll resolve the situation soon enough.
I could see my heartache and sympathy for Justin and Ruth. I could also see my frustration at not being able to fix things for them.
I could feel my apprehension and slight fear at the situation with Bruce. Knowing that the concierges were aware of the situation and that I now had new locks gave me some measure of ease, but it was still a scary situation.
As to whether or not Donovan was Tony’s father, I only felt curiosity. The more immediate concern in that situation was Tony’s reaction to the news that his mother knew
“How does he get in?” I asked. The palms of my hands felt sweaty.
“He has a key. I can see on the CCTV monitors that he lets himself in.”
Thanking the concierge, I went up to my apartment. Patricia rushed over and grabbed my shoulders to look me in the eye.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “You’re as white as a ghost and shaking like a leaf!”
“My mystery visitor is Bruce. Apparently he has a key and lets himself in regularly.” I sank into the sofa, feeling totally deflated.
Patricia picked up the phone and rang the police. Surprisingly, the constabulary arrived quite promptly.
“I had a one-night stand with him several weeks ago,” I told the constables, “and he scared my friend Ruth one day a couple of weeks later by telling her he had been following me, but since then I thought things were fine. He’s dating my friend, Kento.”
While I was giving details to the police, the locksmith arrived. Patricia greeted him and set him to work. The police left, promising to review the CCTV footage at the concierge’s desk and to have a chat with Bruce at Kento’s apartment.
Shakily, I went into my bedroom to prepare for work. I hugged Patricia on my way out, leaving her to handle the locksmith.
* * *
I was dreading lunch with Kento. How can I tell him that his boyfriend is stalking me? I took a deep breath and went into the sushi bar. Kento waved at me, and I sat down at the table.
“It’s so nice having you to myself today…“ he started. I held up my hand to stop his rant.
“I need to talk to you,” I said. “I don’t want to, but I have to.”
“What is it?” he asked, confused at this change in routine. Usually I let him talk himself out at the start of every lunch.
“Bruce has been stalking me,” I said. “Somehow he’s gotten a key to my apartment, and he lets himself in.”
“No way!” Kento exclaimed.
“It’s true,” I said calmly. I went on to tell him how I’d used Justin to deceive Bruce and forced him into leaving the night we slept together. I told him about Bruce’s confrontation with Ruth, on the same day that Bruce just happened to bump into my chair and insert himself into Kento’s life. I told him about the CCTV footage and the concierge’s statement that Bruce was a regular visitor to my apartment. I told him about the coffee and the laundry. The whole time, Kento’s expression grew darker and darker with anger, like storm clouds rolling in on a clear day. I wasn’t sure if he was angry with me, or with Bruce.
“You’re lying!” he said after I’d finished, standing up and pointing his finger at me. “You don’t want me to be happy! You’re trying to ruin the one good thing I have in my life! You don’t want me to be happy!”
After his outburst, Kento stormed out of the restaurant. I sank my head into my hands as the staff and customers looked on in bemusement. They hadn’t realised that lunch came with a show.
* * *
Jogging along the towpath helped me sort out my thoughts and emotions. What had started out as a tangled mass was now sorting itself into a series of clear, defined, straight lines.
I could determine the feelings associated with Kento. I was disappointed in his reaction but, knowing him as I do, I could understand it. We’ll resolve the situation soon enough.
I could see my heartache and sympathy for Justin and Ruth. I could also see my frustration at not being able to fix things for them.
I could feel my apprehension and slight fear at the situation with Bruce. Knowing that the concierges were aware of the situation and that I now had new locks gave me some measure of ease, but it was still a scary situation.
As to whether or not Donovan was Tony’s father, I only felt curiosity. The more immediate concern in that situation was Tony’s reaction to the news that his mother knew
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