I punch the stop button. I’ve heard and seen enough. This is madness! It makes me question her sanity. Was her obsession stretched so far that she couldn’t think straight? What would Davian say if he had to listen to this? He’d be furious. Climb up the bloody wall, that’s what he’ll do. He would never ever allow her to record this. She recorded their lovemaking behind his back, edited out the unnecessary bits, and kept what she thought was useful. She might even have planned it. What for? What had she planned to do with this recording? Go to Melissa with it and expose him? Was she threatening him? She might even go as far as blackmailing him if he didn’t do what she required of him. I can take a guess what that might have been, to have him all to herself.
All of us pass through a shop occasionally and stop dead in our tracks to take a second look at an item we like. We admire it then we look at the price and we scowl. It’s something we can’t afford. Some of us save up for it, and some of us move on. That’s what Lottie’s relationship with Davian was, the expensive item in a shop display that she couldn’t afford but wanted to have, no matter what the cost, even steal to obtain it. He wasn’t the object of her affection anymore, not even a man made of flesh and blood, but an accessory. We, her friends, were so oblivious of what she was doing. If I’d known, I would have done everything in my power to stop her. But she kept it to herself, only sharing it with a laptop. To him, she must have become a burden he regretted. Why didn’t he tell me about this either? This is serious. Did he do the unthinkable and get rid of her because he failed to see another alternative? I refused to believe it.
I step away from the laptop and lie on the bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to find a meaning in of all of this. One man, an obsession, one dead girl.
I drift off and wake up in the dark. Someone is shouting under my window. I get up on my feet and look out to see a couple arguing, a woman in a red coat and a bloke in a leather jacket. The woman slaps him across the cheek and stomps off. I go to the kitchen and inspect the mess.
‘Right,’ I say to myself.
I start to scrub the counters until my hands begin to ache, my mind racing. The police suspect she knew the killer. Did Lottie give Davian a key to her apartment? No, I know him. He wouldn’t do such a thing. I’m disgusted at myself for thinking this.
***
Lottie’s Recordings. Clip fourteen
I was mortified. I was so confused. This man never showed any interest in me. I didn’t know what to think. How am I going to face him after this? I left through the fire exit and ran down the stairs. What have I done? What if Melissa finds out? I pushed the door open and I could breathe again.
It was a shitty thing to do. How dare I do such a thing? Is this what I have become? He had a girlfriend, who he adored, and I’m responsible for his infidelity. I hid under the covers listening to the sounds, the ticking of the clock on the bedside table. Someone put the music on. Michael Bolton’s voice boomed through the walls. It seemed my neighbours were about to get their groove on. I buried my head under the pillow as the events replayed in my mind. His hair soft on my hands, his lips like silk. I wanted to stay tucked under the covers and never come out.
I could have stayed in bed, but not when there are responsibilities. I had to continue as if nothing happened. I couldn’t look at my face in the mirror, how could I ever? I washed my face, avoiding catching glimpses of myself so I didn’t have to face my indignity. I met Ella for lunch and I let her do most of the talking. I should have cancelled. I was terrible company. I kept thinking what would happen if he invented a fictional story to have me fired. After what happened, I’m sure he doesn’t want to see me again. Facing me at work would be unbearable. Maybe I should start looking for a new job.
Ella asked me if I was feeling all right. I stared at her and I thought of telling her what had happened with Davian. I would watch her eyes go wide. I would watch her shock as she demanded I tell her everything.
I shrugged. ‘I’m still getting over the breakup.’
She gave me a sympathetic look, which made me want to run away. ‘Everything will be fine. I know it doesn’t look that way right now, but it will.’
I loved her for her optimism.
I called Anthony, but the phone rang and rang and he never picked up.
On Monday, I walked into the office with my heart in my mouth. My eyes darted at the staff to see if they were staring at me, but everyone was focused on their work. Lilia was in the kitchen making peppermint tea.
‘You look grey,’ she said, placing a gentle hand on my forearm. ‘Are you feeling all right?’
I wanted to be sick. I told her I’m still getting over the breakup. In return, I got a hug.
I kept myself occupied trying to put the episode behind me. I didn’t see him. I suspected he was working from home. I didn’t want to see him, not yet, not ever.
I didn’t join Lilia for lunch. I was on my way to make myself a cup of coffee when Giselle walked out of her office. She looked at me and a man walked over to have a word with her. I hurried to the kitchen; she knows, I thought. My heart thumped against my chest. Davian must have told her something that will get me sacked. After what happened, Davian had to go back to his exhibition, put on a brave face and get on with the evening. Giselle would have demanded a progress report.
I opened the packet of digestive biscuits. As I munched on my biscuits, the phone rang. I stared at the phone as if it was a bomb about to go off.
‘Giselle wants to talk to you ASAP,’ Taylor said.
The biscuits grew like cotton wool in my mouth and swallowing was a struggle. Davian had said he wouldn’t tell Giselle to sack me, but he hadn’t kept his promise. Why would he? Just because he was inside me didn’t give me any sense of entitlement. The man wants me out and he’s going to get it. My knees shook as I wobbled to her office. Giselle sat behind her desk.
‘You wanted to see me?’ I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
‘Lottie, yes. Please, close the door,’ she said firmly without looking at me. ‘Have a seat.’
I felt a rush going through my face as I sat down waiting for it to come out. Pack your shit and get out!
‘I’ve heard you and Davian are friends now,’ she told me in a bright tone.
Is this why she summoned me, to get a progress report from me too? My heart slowed. So, I’m not going to get the sack? He kept to his word; maybe fucking him gave me some sort of privilege. No, we are not friends. What does this makes us? Lovers? I can hardly call it that. It happened once.
‘Um... er...’
Forming words seemed like an effort.
‘He told me on his way out, you made up. I’m pleased.’
I gripped the chair. On his way out? So, he was here? But I didn’t see him and I’m the last person he wants to see right now. I’m sure he must be hiding in his office and won’t come out until he’s done.
‘Well... sort of,’ I said, as heat swam to my face.
‘My... you are flushed. Are you all right?’
‘Yes, I’m fine.’
‘How are things with you in general? I’ve heard about you and Abdel. I’m sorry. If you need anything, someone to talk to, my office is open.’
When I returned to my cubical, I spotted a pink Post-it, which wasn’t there when I left. I blinked at it in disbelief.