Going Up and Going Down (29 page)

I had a quite a
few phone calls to make so I finally turned my mobile phone on, for the purpose
of making and receiving calls, instead of taking pictures of drug dealers’
cars. My phone beeped constantly for five minutes notifying me of almost fifty
missed calls and even more incoming text messages from the past weeks.

Simon’s voice
sounded more than a little cross to hear my voice.

“Helen, where
the fuck have you been? I’ve been ringing you, again and again. I’ve had your
clients pestering me, wondering where the hell you’ve been. What’s going on?”

It was nice to
hear a friendly voice again, angry though he was. I felt a bit wary. He
wouldn’t like what I would be telling him over the next few minutes, but I had
to do it, it was only fair.

“I’ve had a
bereavement. It’s taken a long time. It’s been very difficult for me, Simon!”

He sighed down
the phone, and I raised my eyes to the ceiling, I knew what was coming next.

“Well, yes, I’m
sorry! But you already told me about your parents, Helen. You started having clients
after that – it never stopped you before.”

I took a deep
breath,

“Simon,
it…wasn’t my parents this time. It was the man I loved, you knew him. David.
David Barnard.”

There was a
long silence before he finally asked, incredulous,

“David Barnard?
Helen…you fell in love with a client?”

It was out at
last, and it took all of five seconds to tell him,

“Clients? I
won’t be having any more clients, Simon!” and I ended the call.

Over the course
of the next two days I packed some suitcases with the clothes and personal
items I would need and loaded them into my car. I also helped myself to one of
the incriminating envelopes from the toolbox in the garage. I needed it to put
the next part of my plan into action. After I had left Anthony a letter on the
kitchen worktop, telling him that I would no longer be living in the house, or
cramping his style, I checked into the ‘Kensington’ suite at the hotel. The
classy hotel where I’d first been employed as a chambermaid, and the very suite
where Simon had fucked me, and a little later, talked me into becoming a
hooker.

Using my laptop
I started composing a letter - a letter that would be sent without my signature
or name at the bottom. Once it was completed, I placed it into a large ‘jiffy’
bag together with the envelope I’d stolen from Anthony along with the images of
all the vehicles that I had managed to capture on my mobile phone.

My second
letter was for Leanne, the young trainee at the Hopkins Partnership. I drove
out to where she lived with her parents and, after parking my car in the drive,
posted the envelope containing my car keys and registration document through
the letterbox. She’d always loved my Mazda. I took the tube back into the city
centre and returned to the hotel. Using the telephone in my suite, I hired a
car for what would be my last twenty four hours in London.

My late night
timing was perfect. I dropped my envelope into the doorway of the Thames Valley
Police station in Windsor and made a follow up call from a public payphone
shortly afterwards to make sure they had received it. I already knew they had
found it though. I had watched a young constable pick it up as he’d entered the
station at ten o’clock, either just starting or finishing his shift I expect.
From there I drove towards Anthony’s house in my rental car, but parking a
discreet distance away, under the shade of some trees. I sat waiting for what
felt like hours; eighty four minutes to be exact, until three or four police
vehicles turned into the road and parked at the front of the house. I watched
as he opened the front door to them. Ten minutes later the police entered the
garage. After one hour and fifty three minutes, Anthony was led out of the
house and into the back of one of the police cars.

My luggage
already in the back of the car, I drove straight to London Heathrow where I
deposited the rental car. As I made my way to the check-in desk, all I felt was
an incredible sadness, accompanied by an overwhelming relief. I had done the
right thing – not as soon as I should have done, had I not had my grief to
contend with, but I’d finally set the wheels in motion!

I took my
window seat and, bemused as always, indulged in a little ‘people watching.’
Folks who were pulling their tiny cabin cases on wheels, too busy looking up at
the seat numbers, and totally unaware that they were dragging their luggage
over other passengers’ toes, or grazing a few ankles in the process; people who
messed about stowing their carry-on’s in the overhead storage compartments and
blocking the aisle, two hundred or so passengers at a total standstill; those
who sat down in an aisle seat and immediately fastened their safety belts and
then gave a vicious scowl because they had to unbuckle again when the window
seat passenger finally turned up. It was a constant source of amusement.

As the wheels
left the tarmac and the pilot subsequently started banking the plane, I looked
down on the City and wondered what else life had in store for me. I felt elated
to be leaving it all behind, but nervous at the same time. I didn’t know what I
was going to do. I wasn’t sure whether to get a job in Paris; I wondered if I should
seek some serious help for my O.C.D. and whether it would work if I did.

I didn’t really
know anybody who lived in the apartment block, or anyone else for that matter.
The only people I expected to be seeing in the next few months were Catherine
and Ruby, David’s daughters. I’ve yet to meet Ruby but I’d promised Catherine
they could come to stay with me for a week.

I seriously
hoped that living in Paris would be the start of a new life for me, and a
chance to recover, mentally, from all that had been wrong with my life. I had
still been dealing with the tragic death of both my parents when I had heard
the sad news about David. I was still feeling bitter that the three people I had
loved, more than life itself, had been taken away from me – the most caring,
loving people I had ever known. I didn’t think I’d done anything wrong, but
there were times I wondered if I was being punished for sins committed by me in
a former life. Before David had come into my life, I had first loved Gavin, and
he, and my one and only best friend, had broken my heart. My disastrous
marriage to Anthony had followed, with the numerous stunts he had pulled that
had broken my heart for the second time. No more falling in love for me.

On the approach
to Paris CDG, I looked out at the terminal buildings as they quickly grew
larger. My thoughts drifted again. I’d done it. I’d left London, and my
problems well behind me. I was no longer a chambermaid, or a call girl, I had
no friends in Paris who I could have a social life with, plus - there would be
no more boyfriends or husbands!

As the wheels
hit the runway with a loud thud, a sudden thought passed through my mind…

…what would I
do for sex?

‘Comings and Goings’