Haunted

*** 04. Loneliness….

I sat up, suddenly aware of the tears that were slowly running down my cheeks. I quickly wiped them away and stood and started packing the new stock of books onto the shelves. Damn, I thought, I wish I could stop doing that. It happened every time that my thoughts drifted back to that summer so long ago.

When I had got back to the city, I had called the number Donovan had given me but all I got was a recorded voice telling me that the number was no longer in service. I called directory enquiries only to be told that there was no listing for Donovan or his family. I then waited for him to call me and though the call never came, I constantly hoped that one day I would pick up the phone and I would hear his soft voice on the line.

As time went on, hope turned to despair, despair turned to anger and finally anger became sorrow. Eventually I came to terms with the fact that I would probably never see him again. I still loved him and no matter how hard I tried, I could not rid myself of him. I knew that I would always love him and now, ten years on, that love had become a dull but steady ache in my chest.

In the meantime, as my father had once told me, life passed me by and I resigned myself to a life of solitude. My parents had both died since and I had realized my dream of owning a book store. Their insurance policies I discovered, were worth a substantial amount and with that financial security, I was able to buy a building and open my own book shop. My spare time was spent writing, although I never got to the point of actually publishing anything until recently. A publisher showed an interest in a couple of short stories I had written and suggested that I compile an anthology. I worked on it and submitted it and then to my intense surprise, it was published.

That’s when some strange man started stalking me. Not long after my book was published, I started to get a distinct feeling that I was being watched. This was confirmed one day when I suddenly looked up from my desk in the shop and straight into the shadowed eyes of a stranger who was standing on the sidewalk outside the window. As I focused on his dark staring face, he quickly turned and bolted awkwardly down the sidewalk.

I got up and ran to the door and looked out. He was nowhere to be seen. I tried to recall what he looked like from my brief glimpse of him, but all I could remember was that he had a very full beard and his hair was long and drawn back into a loose pony tail. He was wearing a baseball cap pulled down low over his face so his eyes were effectively shadowed.

After that for the next couple of months, at least once a fortnight, I would catch a glimpse of him; standing staring at me through the shop window; watching me from across the street as I waited for a taxi or standing on the corner as I drove by. I got quite used to seeing his bearded face and after a while it didn’t bother me anymore. He was quite harmless and if he felt an inclination to watch me, he was welcome to do so as long as he kept his distance. It was a free country after all.

My life continued on its lonely path. I had tried to form relationships but somehow they never worked. The constant ghost of Donovan haunted me and my love for him kept getting in the way so I stopped dating.