Chapter 3
I went to 18 Meadowmean Road on Friday at 8PM.
However, there was nothing on the note that specified anything else, so I took some things with me. Those things being my friends and Oliver's Motorola. I wasn't going to take any chances, and yet I was determined to set this guy straight so he'd finally stop bothering me.
I knew why he gave me the note. He wasn't so stupid that he would assault me in the middle of a public place. No, he would take me somewhere private. What a bloody scumbag!
"So this guy was at Fowey? Geez…" Oliver said.
They were a bit miffed that I'd never brought this up before, and during the walk over they asked me for all the details, how I knew what his intentions were. Instead of doing the wise thing and sleeping last night, I'd formulated a story in my head to explain why he'd followed me so religiously, and why he'd handed me that address. In the end, I thought the answer was a simple one. Also disturbing.
So the plan was to turn up as a group and tell the man to back off. If he reacted, we'd call the police. Then, it would all be over and I could enjoy my gin in peace.
George was quiet and protective once I'd told him. He was visibly single-minded as we walked, barely attentive to the conversation we were having. Oliver and Kiani were more interested in the drama of it all.
"He's probably just some old geezer with nothing better to do than try his luck on somebody half his age," Kiani theorised. "Probably never been laid. Probably spent his whole life in some crap job."
"He's just a dirty great twat." Oliver suggested instead. Any of the options could have been true.
"This is the place." George said dryly. He really wasn't eager to contribute to the speculation.
What I expected was a run-down husk of a home, with untrimmed lawn and dirty, blacked-out windows. Maybe some rubbish bags cluttering the pathway. We were all surprised to see that the place was well kept, lined with flowering bushes and freshly painted fencing. Beyond the clear windows were white curtain nets and some abstract ornaments on the sills. There was a cat flap in the door that looked to be frequently used.
It didn't deter us. Maybe creeps could also be good at housekeeping. It just broke a misconception we had, that was all.
George was first through the small metal gate, and it squeaked when he pushed it aside. In single file we marched down the narrow path to the house's front door. It was a glorious red with a golden knock. George slammed the knock far harder than it ever needed to be.
I cleared my throat and pressed against his arm, allowing me to force myself past him. "Calm down, George. Let me deal with this."
He looked to me with concern. Having known each other for so long, we became very protective. It wasn't unlike him to try to take on my problems. To be fair, I did the exact same to him. When I let him know that he was taking on more than he needed, he was unsure but allowed me to take control. The last thing I wanted was for him to land a punch on the guy and get taken away in a police car.
The door opened. A little stunned to see four of us, the creepy old man glanced from one to the other. Maybe he thought I was stupid, that I would come alone. He clearly had no idea what to do in this situation.
"Well?" I asked of him, folding my arms. "You wanted to see me?"
"Why did you bring your friends?" He said.
Oliver answered, "We know what you want, mate. Just admit it."
His lips tightened with aggravation. "You don't know what I want."
"Just keep away from Amy, you fucking twat!" George shouted, pushing a few inches forward.
Then, another voice popped into the scene. It came from deeper inside the house. "Hey, hey! What's going on over there? Derek?!"
The old creepy guy – now known as Derek – slowly turned to face back inside. "She brought friends!" He called. "They're acting very strange."
"We're acting strange?" Kiani said.
The other man emerged from down the hallway. He didn't look anywhere near as decrepit as Derek. He wore a dark suit which was neatly adorned, and his face was clear and friendly. He'd gone bald on top, leaving thin black hair clasping on around his ears and to the back of his head, and he had wispy little eyebrows. He was a portly fellow, but his stance was proud, and he came across as very chummy. Laughing cheerfully, he moved beside Derek and observed us. "Strange?" He blurted. "They don't look that strange to me. Ms Harwood, I hope Derek hasn't given the wrong impression."
I felt my eyes narrowing, an action that portrayed my confusion and suspicion. "What is this? I want to know why I've been told to come here."
"Yeah, or we call the police." Oliver stated.
The smartly suited man chuckled. "There'll be no need for that. There's no ill-intent. You're all very welcome to come inside for tea while we have a chat with Ms Harwood."
George shook his head with doubt. "Why don't you just talk out here? We don't need to go inside."
The smart man's smile faded, just a little bit. "I'm afraid it will be a private conversation. My colleague is waiting inside. Anyway! How rude of me… Ha! I never introduced myself!" He held out a thick, chubby hand. "My name is Bert. Very pleased to meet you all."
I looked at the hand, and then to him. I didn't shake it. I told him bluntly, "I don't trust you. If I see either of you again, I'm calling the police. Now, kindly fuck off."
I turned to head back down the path, and my friends did the same, content with the warning.
"Would our guests like some tea and biscuits?"
The voice of a lady caused us to hesitate, just before we got to the squeaky gate. When we looked back at the door, a middle-aged lady with puffy brunette hair was peeking past the two gentlemen at us. Her voice was that of a middle-class women, and she was well-presented. Maybe it was wrong to assume that such a person wouldn't be involved in something as sinister as we had suspected, but it caused it to take another moment to consider.
"I don't like this," George said quietly. "Go into a stranger's house, who's been stalking you for months?"
"I don't know, mate, there's four of us, three of them… And they don't look like rapists or murderers or whatever." Oliver countered.
Kiani backed George. "So they've come up with something elaborate. And who knows how many people are in there?"
It was down to me… and before I could make a decision, another wrench was thrown into the works. The man called Bert had jogged out towards us, and though we took a couple steps back, we gave him a few seconds to explain himself.
"Look, okay, this isn't something egregious," He said, with hands motioning to calm things down. "Ms Harwood, maybe we did this the wrong way, huh? Maybe Derek here looked like a closet rapist when he was scouting you. But that's what we were doing, right? Scouting. You're here for an interview. Big opportunity coming your way! Believe me!" He cheered. "If you can't trust me, you can't trust nobody! They call me Bert Expert."
It still didn't make total sense… but he'd convinced me enough that I wasn't here to be assaulted. "Okay. Sure." I said with a nod.
"Good, good!" Bert chortled. He held out his hand again, and this time I shook it. His grip was firm and a little sweaty. We started to walk back to the house. "Ms Harwood, can I call you Amy?"
"Sure, whatever." I replied blankly.
My feet ascended two steps and in through the front door. Derek had backed away, but the lady was still present. "This is Lisa," Bert told us. "She'll keep your friends happy while we talk."
"Good evening to you all," She said with a toothy, white grin. "Tea? Coffee?"
My friends were still very uncertain, but they nevertheless took their pick of hot beverage, which Lisa promised to make. I requested tea. White, one sugar.
"TV's on for you," Bert told the others, pushing open the first door to the left where Derek had gone. The living room looked nothing out of the ordinary: A boxy TV in the corner by the window, a big leather sofa and a dining table at the opposite end. There was also a big computer nestled snuggly against the far wall. I didn't see much else, as I was shuffled forward by the many bodies behind me. Oliver, George and Kiani left my sight. It was just Bert and me.
"Just through here," Bert said, pointing to the next door in the hallway, right at the end. My nerves started to return, aware that I would now be separated from the others by two walls and two doors. I breathed heavily as I pressed down on the golden door handle.
I stepped into what appeared to be a small office with dull brown walls and a naked bulb sticking down from the ceiling. There was a desk in the middle, and an empty wooden chair on my side.
On the other side sat a man, his hands clasped and index fingers pressed to his lips. Serious blue eyes watched me. His figure was slim, and his facial features bony. The skin of his forehead and down to the edges of his eyes were wrinkled and a little discoloured. It looked like he's spent most of his life frowning, and from what I could see of his lips, they looked dry and husky, like he barely ever used them.
The suit he wore matched Bert's, but every other aspect of their appearances was in complete contrast.
Bert gently shut the door behind us, and the sounds of the distant TV vanished, leaving the room cold and silent. Bert walked ahead of me and took his place beside the other man, leaning back against the wall.
"Please take a seat." The thinner man said.
I did as he offered and gently placed myself down onto the cold chair. I crossed my legs and allowed my arms to lay together on top of them.
"Good evening, Ms Harwood," The thin man said. "My name is Isaac."
He held out a spotty, bony hand. I shook it. "Hi."
"You've already met my colleague, Bert," He said. "We're glad you decided to come along today."
His voice was bland and monotonous. It didn't seem like he was comfortable with talking, unlike Bert. His eyes, however, were unrelenting.
"I understand you may be somewhat nervous," He said, noting my lack of response. "So I'll just skip ahead to why we're here. Ms Harwood, Earth is being invaded by a parasitic race called the Yeerks. They infest Humans and utilise them as soldiers and workers to further the cause for a great Yeerk Empire that continues to stretch unregulated through our sector of Space. This may include your friends and family. Odds are that the Yeerks will continue to enslave humanity until the population is entirely under their control, and they will use Human technologies to further their advance to other worlds. We don't mean to cause you panic, but your race will very likely cease to exist as free beings within, oh, say five years."
"Uh huh…" I said.