I am still home today and still feeling nasty, though not quite so bad as yesterday. In between frantic, but less frequent, dashes to view the porcelain sculpture, I have been reading my book, browsing blogs and watching a bit of TV.
It’s only 11am and I am bored already.
I should now be logging in to my work e-mail and seeing what’s there but I figure what the heck, it’ll wait…
Instead I am going to share a weird, tingly story that mystifies me to this day. All my friends refuse to listen to me talk about this anymore so I’m going to share it with my friends in cyberspace.
In my early 30’s I had a short stint as a part time nanny but I was not a very good one. What I mean is I was responsible and all that and really liked the kid I cared for but I just didn’t really love being a nanny and I think it’s one of those jobs that’s actually more of a calling that a job. It fitted in nicely with what I needed at the time as I was studying part time, Rory was 3 and I could bring him with me for the couple of days a week I was needed.
I was lying on the lounge floor playing with Rory and with 4 year old Imogen when Imogen’s mum, Sandra arrived home to their small farm 30 minutes south of the city. As she came in the front door she called out “Hi, where are you all?”. Her coming home unexpectedly was not unusual so we just continued playing and I yelled out to her in the hallway “Hi, we’re in the lounge”.
I heard her walk up the hall into the kitchen, open the fridge and then she asked “Have you guys had lunch yet? Shall I make us some sandwiches?”. I said that would be great and then heard her taking things out of the fridge and getting some plates and glasses out of the cupboard.
A few minutes later the Lego zoo that Imogen, Rory and I had been building was complete and so we washed up for lunch.
When we got to the kitchen the breakfast bar was set with plates and glasses and the bread, butter and some sliced ham were set out but Sandra was nowhere to be seen. The fridge door was hanging open. While I started preparing sandwiches for the kids, Imogen went to find her mum. A couple of minutes later she was back saying she couldn’t find her. I called out too but still Sandra didn’t respond. Now I was worried, had she fallen or something somewhere in the large house? After unsuccessfully searching for her again myself, I rang her flash new cell phone (it was still quite fancy having a cell phone here in NZ in the mid 90’s).
Sandra answered sounding flustered. She couldn’t talk right now as she was just going into a meeting with a client in the city and she was late and still needed time to prepare for her presentation. “Is it important?” she asked me. I was speechless. And completely and utterly spooked. And I still am to this day.
Rory and I never set foot inside that house again.