Prologue
"You're an obsession!" she said, her face already lit with a purple heat. "I hate you. I loathe you..." nearly screaming...
"Yeah, yeah, babe, I love you too..." I laughed, stepping back
"No, you don't!" staring into my eyes, confronting me. Then, looking down, lowering her voice, "Definitely, you don't... I am the stupid one unable to get you out of my mind..."
Melanie, how many times had I dated her... four? Five? In? One year? Six months? I couldn't even remember... had besieged me with messages for days: tests, emails, chats, anything... But no missed call on my mobile, no voice message on my voicemail. Well, not such different messages. Only one. Always the same. "Come as soon as you can". Nothing else. Not a word on what or the reason why.
In the beginning, I had given it no attention.
I had been very busy with the review of my last article, a piece on the side effects of a new generation of neuroleptic drugs, since when my chief editor, the very little honourable Mr Richard, had called me on a Monday morning in a less friendly than usual tone
"Hey Mister, are you still working for me? Your last piece is a piece of shit! Were you drunk while writing it? I know your contract is as a freelance but we have a deal and if you want to see something new in your bank account, move your fingers and work on it! Your deadline is gone and I cannot publish such rubbish!"
I had picked up the phone with my eyes still closed and done nothing to hide it, my mouth still dry and sticky, my voice coming from the underground
"Hi, Richard, what can I do for you...?"
"What I have just told you! You've got two days then you're out of this issue"
And the final click of the closing communication.
Well, I wasn't drunk while writing it. Someone was sitting on my desk, right in front of me, exactly between me and my keyboard and monitor, someone so open-minded that... Well... I had not paid too much attention and sent my piece without a review. But I had sorted the problem out, and Richard had returned to his usual unfriendly, growling tone.
In the meantime, Melanie carried her siege, which became my nightmare every time I looked at my mobile, opened my laptop, and worked on my job emails.
I had even tried calling her, but no one had picked up the phone. Answering her messages too, with no change. Only the same message, "Come as soon as you can", kept arriving. At some point, I thought it was a sort of automatic reply, and I would doubt it was for me if I didn't receive it now and again.
"What a..." I thought, "If she needs help, she should call 999, not me..."
Eventually, I decided to go, not because of my interest in answering such summons but because I had lost patience.
