By nine o’clock, Kelly and I were in the office, ready for a new day. Suzanne and I were working on quite a large, complex project, coding software for an important, major client. I was wearing headphones to hear the JAWS screen-reading software without disturbing anybody else in the office and began working through a mass of complicated coding routines.
I was not really aware just how long I had been concentrating on the task, but was surprised to feel a tap on my shoulder. I took my headphones off to bring myself back to the real world.
“Are you not going to have some lunch, Tonie?”
Realising who it was, I answered, “Sorry, Suzanne. I was too deeply engrossed to realise just what time it was, though I do feel quite hungry and ready for some lunch.”
I saved the software, logged off and, after standing and shaking herself, Kelly led me out of the room to a refreshment area. The company provided light refreshments such as sandwiches, hot snacks and cakes, with tea, coffee or fruit juices as an inducement to stop staff spending long midday breaks at local pubs or restaurants.
There was always a good atmosphere in this company and I found the work very satisfying, yet it could be exhausting when tight deadlines had to be met, which could be most of the time. I was reasonably well-paid and knew that my pay grades would improve, gradually, with further time and experience.
“How was your second night at your new house?”
“Not good, Suzanne. Kelly was really freaked out by something and would not stay upstairs, last night, so she slept in the hallway.”
“Poor Kelly! How about yourself? Did you manage to sleep, okay?”
I almost told her of my own strange experiences, but, then decided against it. She would probably think that I was going completely crazy, tripping over nothing, my radio, wierdly, losing the station and, worst of all, levitating with tiny creatures slithering all over my body. “Eventually, I had a reasonable sleep”, I answered.
“Good. Just let me know if there is anything that I can do to help you adjust to your new home.”
“Thanks, Suzanne. It’s really good of you to offer.” I had sensed something in Suzanne’s demeanour and tone which suggested that she knew I was not quite telling her the whole truth. Was I so obviously transparent to this brilliantly-perceptive young woman?
After finishing our lunch, I had time to take Kelly for a short walk and a comfort relief. Suzanne always offered to walk with me on these lunch-time breaks and the hot sun on my skin made me feel grateful for this little break from the long working day.
Suzanne’s twenty-one year old brother, Michael, had recently broken his leg in a motor-bike accident and she told me of his slow progress, while explaining how frustrated he was with his lack of mobility.
“Of course, at least bones will mend, so he should be grateful that he can return to a reasonably normal life.”
She did not add “unlike you”, yet the implied comparison to my own disability was quite obvious.
“I’m sorry, Tonie. I meant…”
I smiled, surprised by her slip. “It’s alright, Suzanne. I’m not as sensitive as I used to be when people are going through verbal hoops to avoid referring to my sight problem.”
“I think you are so wonderful, Tonie. You seem to take everything in your stride, without any complaint.”
“Oh, believe me, I do get very frustrated and have my bad moments, Suzanne.”
“That is understandable. Life must be so very much more difficult for you, so I am not surprised. But, it must take a great deal of courage to put up with all the extra difficulties you must face every day, and I really admire you for your inner strength.”
I shrugged my shoulders and made an attempt to change the subject to something a little lighter. “I expect that Mum will phone me, tonight. She does worry unnecessarily. She always has to make certain that I am eating properly.”
It only took about twenty minutes for our little excursion, yet we all felt better for the break, before returning to the office to continue our lengthy coding project.
As expected, my mother did phone me, that evening, asking how I was managing. I assured her that everything was going absolutely fine, deciding that it would be pointless to let her worry about the strange occurrences on my first two evenings.
I must admit that, when it came to the time for retiring to bed, that night, I was particularly anxious and nervous about what could happen on this occasion?
It came as no surprise when Kelly still refused to climb the stairs and, stubbornly, lay down on her bed in the hall. I even considered sleeping downstairs myself, to avoid another nightly horror, yet told myself not to be so weak-willed.
I was very careful as I mounted the stairs, holding on to the bannister, determined that there should be nothing to deter my movement as on the previous evening. I breathed a sigh of relief, when I reached the landing without incident. I could still sense that something was not quite right. The air felt heavy and oppressive, but, perhaps it was just the summer heat combined with my over-active imagination and nervousness, following my experiences so far. As I reached the bedroom door and moved to turn the handle, I sensed a sudden movement and, much to my shame, almost screamed as something brushed against my face. My breathing and heart rate must have increased from the shock of whatever had come into contact with me. It had felt soft and had only lightly brushed against my skin. Then I had a sudden realisation. It must have been a moth, trying to escape from my advancing figure. “Come on, Buckingham! You are behaving like a small, scared child! Pull yourself together and act like a grown man!”
I pushed the door open and walked purposely towards my bed. As on the previous evening, I switched the radio on, relieved to break the silence with some relaxing music. I undressed and went to the bathroom. Stevie Wonder was singing “I just called to say I loved you” while I was brushing my teeth. My music tastes were extremely varied. I did like some current singers and their songs, particularly Ed Sheeran’s hits, yet I also liked songs from as far back as the sixties and seventies, influenced by my parent’s music preferences.
I was just rinsing my mouth with mouthwash when, as on the previous evening, the music suddenly stopped. This time it was not just replaced by a background hiss. A man’s voice was speaking quite strongly, yet it was obviously not English. It sounded, well, probably eastern European in origin and, to add to my consternation, the voice sounded quite angry. Quickly, I finished in the bathroom and hurried back to my bedroom. I tried to tune the radio back to a familiar station, yet, whatever I did, the same man’s deep, sonorous voice continued in the same, malevolent tone. Exasperated, I switched the radio off, pulled out the mains connection and wondered if the voice may still continue. It did not, but, instead of the usual immediate silence when a radio is switched off, the voice just seemed to fade slowly into nothing. “What the hell is going on, here?”
I normally had no problem in sleeping quite naked, but with an uneasy feeling of being observed, I, probably quite irrationally, kept my shorts and tee-shirt on when I climbed into my bed, that night. Feeling that it was a bit chilly for a summer evening, I pulled the covers up high, leaving only my head showing. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard a terrific bang, almost like an an explosion, which appeared to be coming from the roof space above my room. After that, the house returned to it’s normal quietness, but, it still took me quite a while to fall into a normal sleep as I listened to every creak and movement of the old house, wondering just what horrors lay in store for me, but, eventually, I succumbed to tiredness.
Thankfully, it was hot and very sunny when I opened the curtains on that Wednesday morning. Yawning through lack of settled sleep, I started to get ready for another day’s work. It was strange how the week seemed to be passing quite slowly, perhaps because I did not have the distractions of my family around me, or was it, perhaps, because of my disturbed nights? I had to admit that I felt quite fragile and anxious.