Every Second Counts

Chapter Twenty Nine

I STARE AT MY COMPUTER SCREEN with eyes that do not see. 'So, where are we up to?' the girl in the dark room asks.

My head is full of last night's sex with the stranger I only know as Rambo. We met online and he promised a night full of sexual gratification. His photo showed a man in his thirties with abs Mr. World would have been proud of. True, he made good his promise. However, short of getting me to fill out a Godsdammed form rating his performance, this guy's personality was that of a gnat! I waited for him to nod off and I scarpered back to Red's apartment by 3 a.m. And then a new emotion overtook me. I felt a combination of dirty and ashamed.

My sexual exploits are bordering on addiction...I have known this since I started my sessions with the girl in the dark room. And up until now I have convinced myself sex releases the tension that builds up as I near the harrowing ordeal every Friday at 8 p.m. I still believe this to be true, but I feel dirty nevertheless and I suspect it's because I'm using these men for my own gratification even though it isn't for sexual pleasure. Hey, I do feel sexual pleasure but that isn't the main reason I stalk the seedy bars on a Thursday night. Honestly, I don't know what I can do to ease the tension instead of getting laid! But the shame aspect of my feelings is just plain weird.

And then it twigs! Carter looms large in my head. For God's sake, surely I'm not correlating these shame feelings, like, I'm betraying Carter Johnson?

But, it's starting to make sense! I know how he feels about me. And I know how I feel about him. And, I know it's ridiculous to feel this way. I hardly know the guy. However, it's difficult to just turn off those powerful emotions—love, hate, jealousy.

The girl in the dark room jolts me back to the present. 'What happened in the last week? You seem pre-occupied.'

She doesn't know the half of it and I start to update her while trying not to take in the abhorrent view in front of me. There are large build ups of brown sludge in the crevasses in the brick wall which looks like faeces and the minute my brain acknowledges that possibility, I dry retch. The visual in front of me is so powerful, I swear I can smell the stank pooled water on the floor and the cold chill of death.

I cannot help it. I fling myself to my bathroom and throw up in my toilet. Somewhere in the foggy recesses in my brain I know the ten minutes I have wasted is ten minutes I won't be having to focus on the girl in the dark room and her surroundings, and although I'm relieved it also plays heavily on my mind that there are a lot of things she needs to help me with.

Back I go and reluctantly sit in front of my laptop and stare into the gruesome chamber. I start with, 'I went back to the Heslop's.' The girl in the dark room takes the update of the murder of my Nanny and me not remembering I even had a Nanny in her stride without commenting. 'It was when I was seven,' I add.

'But, you don't remember her or anything about having a Nanny?'

'No. Nothing.'

'Were the Heslop's apprehensive about you finding out re: the Nanny?'

'More than apprehensive. Previously, I'd made a point of telling them I was leaving everything alone, so Bert got went pretty mental.'

'I believe the Heslop's know a lot more about that time in your life. You need to be careful. It's obvious they don't want you to know anything more.'

'No. It's OK. I told them I found out about the Nanny and her murder accidently when I was looking for articles about Dad and cricket.'

'You wont be fooling them for a minute. You be careful,' she says. 'So, did you glean anything else?'