A Day in the Life
The Trim Job
I held my breath, my heart was pounding, pounding so hard I could feel it hitting my rib cage. I could hear the swoosh in my ears, a feeling of nausea came across me. “God, I’m going to pass out”, was the only thing that came into my mind. The image of me lying there on my own flashed in my mind, no one knew where I was, well not the exact location anyway. Slowly I exhaled, so slowly that I could feel the pins and needles coming across my face, my hands were shaking, my head started to ache. “Breath in, breath in”, I thought to myself. I put my head into my hands, more to prop it up than anything else. Slowly my breathing eased into a normal pattern (as normal as could be expected when you’re terrified), slow deep breaths, but I couldn’t move. If I did, he would hear me, he was there and any movement would give me away.
I was a private investigator, on my first surveillance job, covertly undertaking observations in my van.
The handle lifted, it creaked as he lifted it. Did I remember to lock the doors? My heart started to thump again. I was sure I had, and now he was there, trying to open the door, the door which I wasn’t sure if I had locked. I could hear the handle creak again. It was locked.
At least he couldn’t get in, but I wasn’t safe yet. There was another creak. This time I knew I was safe, although my heart still skipped a beat.
Why am I doing this?
What on earth was I thinking of?
Before I could answer those questions I was confronted by another, “What have I got myself into?” I was still trying to catch my breath, settle it so I could concentrate. There was no time to think about what ifs. I had to stay silent, stay as still as possible. Once he realised there was no one inside he would go away wouldn’t he?
Then I turned my to the to the back window. There he was staring in at me. He tapped on the window. Could he see me? I held my breath. Luckily I was sitting at the time, if had I been standing I would have fallen over. He came closer, his hands clasped around his face so he could see in better. I was still holding my breath, fear came over me, I exhaled slowly, making sure not to make a sound or move a muscle. I forced myself to relax. I knew he couldn’t see me, as that window was mirror tinted, I could see out but he couldn’t see in. I had to remember that.
The camera started to beep. It decided to tell me at the most inappropriate time that it was running low on battery. He moved even closer, I could see his nose pressed against the window, his breath fogged up, had he heard the bleep? He wiped the fogged up window, his hands seemed so large and powerful. I remember thinking he had very large hands for an average height man. He moved about six inches to his right, then clasped his hands tight around his face right against the window. “Stupid idiot”, I thought, “if you couldn’t see in the first time, how would you see in now?”
At that second, I heard the back door handle creak. Then I heard a woman’s voice, it was loud and sounded like she was annoyed, “John, I asked you to go the shop 20 minutes ago, what the hell are you up to?” “Nothing,” he replied. “Well will you go to the shop, I will be late for work and want a cuppa before I go”, the woman shouted. “Ok, ok, I’ll go now”, replied the man. He turned to walk away, long carefree strides; he was in no hurry, although I wished he was. I let out the longest breath that I believe I ever have done in my life, so long that there was not a trickle of air left in my lungs.
Finally, I could breathe. I felt the pounding in my chest subside and the dull ache in my head disappeared. I watched as he walked towards his car, he opened the car door, he turned back to where I was looked at my van and just stared, a stare that said, “I’m not finished with you”. I was ok, I was safe, I didn’t get caught, but I was also aware, that I had just experienced the closest to getting caught that I could imagine.
What would I say?
How would I explain this one?
Questions need answers and at that point I had none. I watched as he drove his car out of the estate. I regained my composure, moved my aching legs, they were so sore and stiff, still shaking from the whole event. I pulled the curtains which divided the van back, thinking how delighted I was that I put them there in the first place, thinking how this whole event would have ended had I not decided to fit them.
I slipped into the driver’s seat, hands and legs still slightly trembling; I got the keys into the ignition and felt a wave of relief when the engine started. I had to get out of here that was too close a call to even contemplate being there when he got back. I was still trembling as I put the van in gear and started to move, remembering what I had been told by my boss, “If in doubt, get out”, and that’s what I planned to do.
As I left the area I was still nervous, even worried, in case I met him. I didn’t care, I was just glad that I was out of the estate. The whole event unsettled me. “Is this the job for me?” “Should a woman be doing this job?” These thoughts were whirling around my head. I had wanted to do it for many years, this was the job I had chosen. I thought how glad I was that the woman had called him, glad that I had mirrored tint on my windows, glad that I had locked all the doors. Another question came into my head.
Why did he come over anyway?
What made me stand out?
I couldn’t think of an answer, my van was a small typical workman’s van. I wasn’t parked in anyone’s drive. I wasn’t obstructing any traffic. I wasn’t even parked that close to his house, so why did my van grab his attention? I looked down to the dash board, it suddenly dawned on me, I had left the lights on. This man simply saw my van parked in the estate, close to his house, the lights turned on and no one in it. He probably even thought he was helping by trying to get into the van to turn the lights off. Here he was trying to help, meanwhile all the time I was recording his every move.
Fun, exciting, scary, demanding and tough were some of the words that come to mind when I think about those first few months. There were sometimes when I wanted to give it all up, work in an office, and work 9 to 5 like other “normal” women. I didn’t think like that for long as the thoughts of normal didn’t appeal to me – sitting in the park, coffee mornings or gossip at the school gate were just not me.
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