The Telephone

Eva Trondheim looked at the telephone. In fact, she was staring at it. Would he ring again? Why did she care? She'd seen him going past her window in Camden Street. She owned one of those pastel-painted terraced houses, rather fashionable even for London. Her house was pink; maybe she was pink: certainly feminine enough, with her powder-puff lingerie, which she loved to wear during the day. He'd seen her in it, she knew. His voice said it all, if he spoke at all, that is. He tantalised her; he wanted to know her, but really he was a complete stranger. She didn't even know how he'd got her number.  

The phone rang. It was such a threatening burr, burr; not like when her friends rang, Lorna or Rosemary. Somehow their's was a much kinder ring. She was imagining things of course. How could a phone sound different? Should she pick up, or should she just let it ring? Secretly she was fascinated by him, but she didn't even know his name. Why did he never give it? What was he afraid of? Maybe he was as afraid as she was.

Eva longed for the excitement of a lover, but this was odd. He always said he wanted to meet, but wouldn't even give his name. Maybe she should tell the police. He could be a crank. When she saw him through her window he looked okay if a bit rough. She hoped to God he wasn't a rough sleeper. What would her mother say?

She picked up the receiver. Nothing, then the heavy breathing started.

"Look, you've got to stop this."

"Please, Eva," so he knew her name.

"How do you know my name?"

"I've always known your name. I am meant to be with you."

"Oh really, I've had enough."

"Please don't go. I'm in love with you."

"What's your name? You could at least tell me that."

"Okay, it's Nemo. I can't be on long I've got an appointment."

"Have you passed by my window?"

"Maybe. I walk around a lot. Sorry, I've got to go."

The conversations were always short and very much of the same character. She'd known immediately what Nemo meant : no one in Latin. Maybe he was a dropout, but someone with education.

Eva  worked  in television, but most of the guys she came across were either married or gay. No one, she mused, had ever shown an interest in her. She was a good-looking woman though, and at thirty five was looking for someone to share her life with, maybe even try for a baby. But this stranger she'd only seen on the street making odd phone calls. It was all too bizarre.

After a hard day at work she was sat in her lounge. She became aware of the telephone again, but somehow she wasn't afraid; she even felt a slight thrill that he might ring again.

Suddenly the phone sprang to life. She answered immediately.

"Hello, Eva, it's your dad."

"Oh, it's you, Dad."

"I'm afraid I've got bad news, your mum's passed away."

"Oh, Dad, and it'll soon be easter. I was just thinking about going to my local church, and now it'll be a funeral."

When Eva put the phone down the reality of the news hit home and she started to sob with the shock. Life is so fleeting, she thought to herself. We know not the day nor the hour.

Just then she saw him: the infamous Nemo. He was looking into the window from behind the black, iron railings. Somehow he looked smarter than the last time she'd seen him. Maybe he was trying now.

She got out of her seat, still tearful, and pressed her hand to the glass of the window. It had started to rain. He just kept looking. What should she do? She couldn't let this go on any longer.

She rushed to the front door and opened it with wild abandon. Nemo stood there offering her a Dragon plant. She took him into her home. At this point in her life she didn't care anymore.

But would it be a double funeral?