I turn the corner into my street. Not too long a street, about fifteen houses each row, more of poor than middle class neighbourhood, traders line the streets, annoying people that do nothing but stare. I walk past them determined not to greet anyone.
Now I wish I had looked up. I wish I had smiled and returned her greeting, then maybe she would have warned me.
‘Is this the suspect?’
I open my door and walk in and then I see my captive slowly making his way to the door like a drunk, swaying this way and that, eyes unsteady.
The combination of the heat from the sun, my pride and exhaustion from working with Dr Soul all night weakened my senses. He was not even plain clothed. A pound rather than a knock. The door thrown open. Caught in the act. I will not go down without a fight. Others go for the jugular, I go for the crotch. He screams. He was not alone.
He un-cuffs me and leaves the room. This must be the DPO. I could have dated him if the circumstances were different. But then, I could have dated anyone as long as it dangled between his legs and was there when I wanted. I have never been picky except with him. Chris I never want to share. He was supposed to be mine.
The DPO stares at me. I felt sorry for him. Maybe he wanted some. Looking closer, he is not as young as he looked earlier. Possibly early 50s, small beer belly, about 5′ 8”, dark skinned- very dark skinned, probably South-South. Not that it helped my case. Maybe his wife is fat and ugly. Wishes!
‘Have they taken your statement?’
I almost told him about a lawyer I had. It was a week after Chris had showed me my body and made me feel passions I had never felt before, discovered places I never knew existed, the inside of my knee, a spot somewhere up my thigh just before my V. He had come to me with a VD, I treated him at home. He was thankful I cured him without telling his wife. He was my neighbour. Afterwards, he paid weekly and sometimes bi weekly neighbourly visits. I played nurse. He rated 8 mostly -very good but not Chris excellent.
‘Do you have a lawyer?’
No words are spoken as I unbuckle his belt and give it to him. He groans and quakes but I wouldn’t let him cum- special trick I know. Chris taught me after he discovered I hate the taste of sperm. He goes over and locks his door-a zombie under my spell. He returns and takes me, plain missionary. He tried, but not so good, maybe a 6. He came. I didn’t.
He comes to me twice during the night and takes me out for questioning. He questioned and each time I answered. The second time was under the stars in the car park. He tried doggie, still no words. By the third time we spoke. I no longer needed a lawyer, but I had to leave town.
I run a permanent morning shift now. It was easy to get another job. I am a good nurse and I have a good doctor. His wife is the Matron. They have not slept in the same room for years. These days, he likes my room better. He doesn’t mind the hour drive. I still have Chris’ picture by my bedside, it gives me stability, keeps the demons away. Someday, I’m going to come back and find him. I need to tell him why I did it. Why I just couldn’t let go. He needs to know that I still find him irreplaceable.