STALKER

Chapter 21 - 8th June

I wasted an entire day in bed see-sawing between feeling hungover and embarrassed by my behavior the previous night and in the morning. I'd been railroaded into one situation after another until it was a freak show. It was a toss-up who was worse, Sarah or Weirdo guy. Both of them were like characters from a bad novel. I actually had a nightmare about the two of them. Sarah was a human version of Chucky and Weirdo guy, well, he was somewhere between the clown from IT and Joker. They chased me around the streets with megaphones, calling out my name and wanting me to come and play. It makes me shiver thinking about it. Then there was granddad adding his homophobic shit to the mix. Seriously, they were all doing my head in.

The upshot of it all is that the breakup with Sarah has put me off dating...big time. I've also learned my lesson about accepting help from strangers...never again. As for drinking, I need to learn to say...no more! And when it comes to granddad...JOHN!....what the hell do you do with a ghost who's in denial about being gay.

....

That was yesterday. Today, I've accomplished a couple of things and I'm feeling in control again. The main thing that's done and dusted, is that my beautiful Rolex Oyster is in the hands of Christie's Auctions. They are sending it to be authenticated. I had an appointment at their offices this morning and I could see from the look on the receptionist's face that I wasn't their usual sort of customer and she wasn't sure what to make of me.  Even better, was the look on the appraiser's face when I presented him with a pristine Rolex Oyster in its original box, with papers, and the beautifully handwritten receipt for the purchase. It was worth enduring the snotty attitude. I suppose I don't blame him for being judgy, as I did arrive at their very swish offices, wearing slashed jeans and a Led Zeppelin T-Shirt. However, even though the chap couldn't fault my little treasure, I knew he was thinking it was too good to be true,  he's sent it off to Rolex for authentication. I have no doubt they will be surprised by its condition as well, but as it is flawless they will give it a thumbs up. Once that's done it goes into a "Rare and Vintage" jewelry catalog for an auction to be held in a few weeks. It should fetch between $12,000 and$15,000. A fraction of the money I could make if I jumped and got winning lottery numbers but I'm not that greedy, give me time I'm working up to it. Still, I will make a nice profit...and more importantly...it was fun shopping. I have my next purchase already picked out for when I run out of money, which should bring in a lot of cash. It will be only a short jump, a mere 25 years to1997.

.....

On the way home from Christie's I fixed problem number two.  I arrived home.  Mum was hoovering and greeted me with a big smile that I made vanish a minute later.   I mustered the saddest most pathetic face I could.   I told my mother the tragic news that Sarah and I had broken up after a catastrophic argument. I really should take up acting. I threw in the fact I asked her if I could date someone else at the same time, to add a bit of realism to the story.  It's sad but true Mum had no problem believing I would do that.  Mum was disgusted with me, as expected.  She whined for a bit about how Sarah was such a lovely girl and I was a fool.  And that was it the charade was over.  

....

Having had a stranger unexpectedly stay at the house has pushed me to find a hiding place for my journal. I've been thinking about it for a while but there didn't seem to be a rush. Now there is. It crossed my mind that Weirdo may have rummaged through my dresser while I was sleeping.  It's where I keep my journal with all the others.   Had he read it, the parts about Granddad...John? Was that how he knew? I can't see him doing that, but I don't know how weird Weirdo actually is.

I know every corner of the house pretty much so I'm was sure I could find somewhere to hide my secret, like John and my Grandmother had hidden theirs. I rarely go upstairs but I decided to start there. All the rooms are empty, not a stick of furniture or a single personal item is left to tell the history of the woman who lived all her life in this house. I roamed around for a while but nothing presented itself. The only place in the whole house that neither dad nor I have ventured in the roof cavity and I'm not into tight places or creepy crawlies so that's not happening. You wouldn't get me to go in there for love nor money.

I was getting nowhere when John made an appearance. As I was heading back downstairs I saw him standing in the middle of the main bedroom. He was calmer than when I last saw him,  he was looking like his normal dark wispy self. He lifted his hand and beckoned me in. For a moment I debated if John was up to something tricky. I went in anyway, we really have to find some middle ground as we're stuck with each other.

I looked around the room again. It had a nice vibe to it. I'd already checked it out but it appeared I missed something. I'm not sentimental so it doesn't remind me of my grandmother, it's just a nice bright, airy room. The house was built around 1910 and it has the high ceilings popular at the time. The walls have fresh pale blue wallpaper with a simple embossed stripe pattern. I've re-varnished the dark wood floor, door frames, skirting boards, and picture rails so they have a mellow glow.  The room is well-lit thanks to the large french windows that lead to a balcony.  The light makes the room warm and cozy. There's a working fireplace with the original tiles and mantlepiece. Above the fireplace is a panel with a rather tired-looking mural.

For a few moments I was lost in thought, I wouldn't mind making this my bedroom once I have some money to furnish it properly. I would leave the room downstairs as my study. John moved passed me as I stood looking at the fireplace. He lifted his hand and ran it across the bottom of the panel. He stepped back and waited for me to do the same. I couldn't see anything unusual but I copied what he did and ran my fingers along the right-hand side of the panel just above the beveled frame that surrounded the mural. Nothing happened. I looked at John, he stood there his smoky innards swirling. I tried again, pressing harder as I ran my fingers along the panel, but this time when I got to a few inches from the corner I heard a click. I kept on moving my fingers firmly along the panel until it popped open a crack, and the entire panel 3 feet by 3 feet shifted. I pulled it open gingerly, half dreading what I might find.  Inside were three shelves set into a niche. It was empty except for a small book, and a pistol sitting side by side on the bottom of shelf.   Another journal didn't surprise me. I already knew there was a gap of a couple of years in the journals I had. The pistol was another matter. It had an unpleasant aura.   I didn't want to think about what else was going to be dredged up from the past.  None of John's other belongs gave off a negative vibe like this one.  I wondered why he was telling me about this now. I closed the panel and looked at John.

"Don't tell me."  I sighed  "Another one of your secrets?"