The Tens, Vanessa Jones [i like reading books .TXT] 📗

than a phone headset and a laptop, she rarely even had the requirement for a pen. People would walk by during their ordinary day and peer in, mostly absentmindedly, but some people who walked the same route regularly made it habit. Often, people would smile or nod. She felt so comfortable being on the fringe of activity, amongst the people but nowhere near being amid people.

But since she'd turned thirty, she struggled to find that same sense of ease. The smiles still came but she found them annoying, rather than pleasant. It was a hassle to smile back and she'd taken to pretending not to see anyone, busy typing up emails and checking the weather on her laptop. What once made her feel attended to, now made her feel uneasy, like a pending disaster was about to occur. Imagined scenarios of trucks losing control and crashing through the two-storey high glass walls or an unnoticed gas leak to spread throughout the building shattered through her mind. She didn't hate her job— although she would prefer to be at home painting— but it was laborious to turn up and use all her spent energy pretending that she wasn't constantly on edge. Sometimes, she felt like a wrongly hanged woman on display in the town square.

Sophie smiled tightly at her colleagues as she slid herself behind the desk, affirming that yes she did, in fact, feel better and it was just a little virus, nothing to be concerned about. They didn't need to know that her husband had left her. Especially when Sophie was sure she would find a way for him to come back.

The morning flew by, just as she had anticipated and was grateful for. She was right, work was just the tonic that she needed. She even had a new idea for a painting she could start working on that night and she was itching to get home to start it.

Around lunchtime, though, things took a turn. After a flurry of couriers had come and gone, a squat woman traipsed in. Initially, Sophie didn't bother looking up until she could see her torso pressed against the desk in front of her. When she lifted her eyesight and saw her face, she ejected herself backwards with her hands, rolling her chair until it hit the wall behind her. The woman donned timeless clown makeup: a powder white face, exaggerated lips and eyes rimmed in black eyeliner, forming pointy triangles halfway down her cheek. She had stripy stockings that sat under satin frilly bloomers and a matching top, frills flopping on her arms as she breathed heavily.

'Sorry, you gave me a fright. How can I help you today?' Sophie quickly tried to refasten her composure.

In response, the woman placed her hands on the desk and leaned as close as she could towards Sophie. 'Durrr dunt dunt duddit derr derr duddit...' The woman moved her head and torso around in a circle whilst humming the Entry of the Gladiators circus theme music. Sophie surveyed her as she moved slowly and stared straight ahead, the humming as unnerving as the outfit and movement. Despite herself, Sophie squealed. More out of confusion than straight fear.

A handful of eager colleagues rushed from their hidden offices to attend to Sophie's screams and she turned back to them, fielding away tears that were coming thick and fast. ‘What's wrong? What is it?' Came a chorus of concerns.

Sophie pointed and turned back to the clown woman but there was no one there. Just an empty tiled foyer with one strip of sunshine lying across the floor like it belonged there. 'There was a scary woman here! She was just here. I...'

'I didn't see anyone when I came out. Are you okay?'

'She was humming at me! I swear she was right here.' Sophie’s hand flapped uncontrollably around her.

Each of her coworkers looked to one another, unsure what to do. Her manager strode out and looked at her compassionately. 'Soph sometimes viruses can take a lot longer to heal than we think. I'm really happy for you to take the rest of the day off with pay. Have a rest and come back tomorrow, if you feel better.'

Sophie didn't bother responding, she knew they thought she was crazy. And they were probably sick of her declining behaviour lately anyway. She hadn't exactly been warm and friendly to everyone. Maybe they had cottoned on that Alex had left her?

Grabbing her handbag, she swept out the front door looking up and down the street to make sure it was clear of any clowns before she went home. There was not a clown in sight.

By the time she'd driven to their white stucco suburban house, she had shaken the nonsense out of her brain. It could have easily been a vagrant off the streets or an actor trying out a bit on her. It really wasn't that big of a deal. But the way she overreacted concerned her. No, it annoyed her. And she felt humiliated and so very exhausted.

Stepping out of the car, she scanned the driveway and the perimeter of her house for any signs of Alex. There were none. But Sophie noticed a small lump at her door. Yet another dead bird and she swiped it away with her foot, disgusted.

Despite being the pointy middle of the afternoon, Sophie crawled into bed, making sure all her doors and windows were locked. Exhaling with enough force to make a dent in the doona, she turned her morning alarm off because she knew that she wasn't going back into work the next day. Or ever again.

CHAPTER TEN

The storm of humiliation faced her when she awoke the next day. Fearing what her coworkers must think of her, she knew she had no other option but to cut that part of her life off. Close it down, especially so she could focus on healing herself and finding Alex.