The Paradoxicon, Chapter Two: Julia

 

Chapter Two

 

Julia

 

Victor Frank steadies himself with his left hand on the ladder from the room of forgotten things down to the living room. A box containing the tape recordings and transcripts of his Doctor Brunner is clasped in his right hand over his shoulder. He places the box on the floor in front of the sofa. There's so much to learn about this Doctor Brunner. All Victor knows is that the doctor's first name is Miles and that Doctor Miles Brunner had vacated the flat in a hurry, leaving all of his belongings behind before Victor took the tenancy. 

 

With no forwarding address and the whereabouts of the doctor unknown, by way of thanking Victor for saving him the bother of clearing the flat, the landlord had permitted Victor to do with the doctors property as he saw fit. A lot of the furniture was old but not antique and therefore worth very little: that went in the skip. He'd sold a few paintings he found and kept others which he particularly liked. There were various ornaments which he kept and which were now in the room of forgotten things to make room for Victor's own things. Others he'd sold as he needed the money. He'd photographed everything and kept the photographs separate from the objects they were photographs of, in case he decided to dispose of the things themselves at a later date. Books, CDs and DVDs were now arranged by subject, artist and title respectively with his own. The photos of the forgotten things were with the doctor's own photographs in the loft. For now, he was interested in that which he couldn't and hadn't seen: the box full of tape recordings and transcripts. He would go through this box later but first - as was his tradition on a Sunday - he would write to Julia.

 

Victor descended the short staircase leading down from the living room to his bedroom. His flat was built into the eaves of the manor house. The flat was quite unusual in layout, as were the other four properties in the conversion. The bedroom ceiling slanted and even at only five feet five, Victor had to stoop as he approached the wall of the room where his computer desk and bed were positioned. He switched on his netbook and was reminded of the money he'd lost the previous evening as he looked at his online poker balance. Saturday nights were good for catching fish at the online poker sites but he'd had a bad beat with his full house being bettered by four of a kind and lost a fair chunk of his bankroll. Deciding to quit while he was behind and not risk going on tilt, risking even more money, he'd retired to bed, feeling beat.

 

Hi Julia,

 

You didn't reply to my last email: are you okay? 

 

How's Lucas and Laila? Tell them daddy sends his love.

 

You know most of what's going on this side as I've told you. We've not spoken for a couple of weeks though, so I thought I'd fill you in.

 

You remember I said I was going to sort out the loft? Well, I've finally got around to it; or I've started at least. You've seen downstairs but there was still everything in the loft to go through. I've not thrown anything else out yet and I'll probably keep most of my old stuff but I'm going through the old tenant's stuff. You remember I said he was a doctor but I didn't know what he was a doctor of? Well there was a box in the loft that I'd forgotten about. I remembered it last night and I've been up there today to get it. It's full of tape recordings and transcripts. I assume the transcripts are of the tape recordings but I'll find out when I go through it all later. I'm wondering if he was involved in forensics or something? Or maybe a private detective? Who uses a tape recorder? It could be that it's really boring but something I have a lot of right now is time on my hands so I'm going to investigate for myself. I'll let you know.

 

I assume you realise it's been just over a year since I moved here? As I've said many times before, thanks for all your help. I'm only sorry it didn't work out with us. We had ten good years and two beautiful kids. If only I knew where it all went wrong, I'd travel back in time and change things. But I can't. I'm sorry.

 

I know you didn't like my nights out, even though you were too polite to say so. I was honestly with customers. I can almost prove that: if you think back, I stopped going out so much when we lost the business. 

 

But why am I going over all this? I know your mind's made up and that I need to move on but I'm finding it hard being on my own. They've upped my prescription for antidepressants and that seems to be helping. What would really help though is seeing you and the kids sometime. 

 

I'll keep you posted on what I find out about our friend Doctor Brunner.

 

I miss you.

 

Take care,

 

Victor.

 

Victor hit the send button. Maybe Julia would reply this time. It had only been a week after all; only his last email that she'd not replied to. Everything had been fine the last time he heard from her. By way of reassuring himself, he opened his inbox and read her last message.

 

Dear Victor,

 

The kids are fine. I just had parents' evening at the school and they're both doing well. Lucas is two years ahead of where he should be in maths and Laila is within what they call "Acceptable parameters". I suppose you'll say that Lucas takes after his dad like you always did.

 

How's the flat? You said you were going to sort the loft out? 

 

Anyway, got to dash.

 

Hope you're well.

 

Julia.

 

A bit brief perhaps but she was obviously in a hurry. Victor knew how much work those kids could be as he'd had to undertake Julia's sole parent role on occasion since they'd split: get them to school; do a day's work; collect the kids from school; take them home and feed them; walk them to any after-school groups or clubs; collect them; feed them again before bed; argue with them while they got ready for bed; stand over them while they washed and cleaned their teeth; read them a bedtime story; tell them you'll see them in dreamland; leave the room; wait for a call back into the bedroom; sort out an argument; leave the room again; have a shower; iron the next day's uniforms; check homework; make packed lunches; check for any notes from school in their book bags; breathe. Then to bed with little or no TV nor couple time before repeating it all again the next day.

 

In some respects Victor didn't envy Julia at all but in others, he did. He missed the family routine. He missed being a part of things. He checked his inbox in the hope that Julia might have replied but there was nothing. Busy with the kids no doubt. In some ways, Sunday nights were worse that weekdays: spend as much time as possible with the kids over the weekend - including any parties they'd been invited to, getting shopping done, dealing with visiting relatives and so on - then back to reality, where the children are a full spare-time job, yet you don't see them.

 

Victor stands, climbs the steps into the living room and descends the other steps from the living room down into the bathroom. The bathroom is next to the bedroom and therefore built into the eaves of the manor house, so he has to stoop slightly to see himself in the mirror as he cleans his teeth. The last year hasn't been the best in Victor's life but despite the bags under his eyes, he looks good for his age he thinks. Julia called him her little Staffie with the big brown eyes. "There are crow's feet sitting on those big brown eyes. Forty twenty fifth of Decembers; thirty nine fourth of Julys..." He's paraphrasing in his mind to The Beautiful South playing on the hi-fi in the living room. 

 

Teeth done, Victor climbs the stairs to the living room and The Beautiful South: "...Line four in a park / And the things, the things that people do in the dark / I could hear the faintest beat of your heart / Then we did...Now you're older and I look at your face / Every wrinkle is so easy to place / And I only write them down just in case / You should die...".

 

He sits on the sofa. "...Well my eyes look like a map of the town / And my teeth are either yellow or they're brown / But you'll never hear the crack of a frown / When you are here / You'll never hear the crack / Of a frown."

 

Victor glances at the clock: 23.42. Almost quarter to midnight and nearly Monday; the beginning of another week. He thinks of calling Julia then remembers that she changed her mobile number when her phone was stolen a couple of weeks previously. He looks down at the box by his feet, sealed with green parcel tape: "Doctor Miles Brunner: tape recordings and transcripts." What might be on those tapes? What might be missing from the recordings that transcripts may have had to replace the recordings themselves? What did Doctor Brunner do? What was his business, or who did he work for? Why did he leave this place in such a hurry and leave everything behind? Did he leave everything, or did he take things with him? 

 

With so many of the doctor's things now in his possession, Victor almost feels like he owns this Miles Brunner. He feels as though he owes it to the doctor to find him; to reunite him with his remaining belongings and apologise to this man who he now feels he knows for selling some of what he owned; to pay him back what he's due in his own will for the things that he left Victor. 

 

One thing is certain: he needs to know more about this man he has sort of become.