waiting for phone call

Every movement near the gate had me on high alert. A car would pass and my heart would jump at the prospect of seeing Deveroux. [not in a pleasant way] A kid would enter and my neck would crane to it’s full extent to identify the intruder.

Milliseconds turned to seconds and seconds turned to minutes; and soon my apprehension turned to confusion.

Did I actually see Dev? Well I know it was his car. Even Blondie confirmed that, so I definitely wasn’t imagining things.

So if it really was Dev driving in the complex, and if he hasn’t been to my place and thereafter directed to the pool area by Star; then either Star was no longer home and Dev merely left. But then how did he get into the complex in the first place without someone on the other end of the intercom granting access???

Or perhaps he does suddenly know someone else in the complex and he was visiting them. But then why was he driving through the residential side of the complex? If he was visiting another resident, he’d be parked in the visitors parking area near the entrance and wouldn’t be anywhere near the pool which is on the other side of the complex!

So where he is now? And what was he doing here? Argh, what is going on???

And so went my thoughts. Until my paranoia was rudely interrupted.

My cellphone rang.

I startled at the sound.

I shook even harder when I recognised the number.

Deveroux’s mother’s landline.

What the fuck???

I stared at the screen for so long that the call stopped.

I waited for the caller to leave a voice message

Again the milliseconds turned to seconds turned to minutes.

No message was left.

Ok, really. What the fuck is going on here??? Why is he calling me from his mother’s house phone and where the hell did he get my number from???

BB buzzed again.

Another incoming call from the same number.

In panic, I switched my phone to silent.

I just can’t deal with the pressure of uncertainty!!!

I waited for the call to drop and a message to be left.

Nada.

I continued staring at my phone, willing a text message to come through.  That I can deal with.  I can decipher each word and the meaning behind it and thereafter draft my necessary response. A call? Nope, too “on the spot” and it doesn’t give me time to think, to analyse, to plot, to plan.

The phone rang again.

A different number.

I answered.

Advertisements