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By Kitty Angel · Posted
134. Blind Spot When she first arrived here, Isadora wouldn’t have spotted the car. She wouldn’t have known where to look. But even when Brock had seemed unwilling to share his findings, he had encouraged her to learn the lay of the land. Now, she realised that she knew everywhere the gaps between the neighbourhood’s houses and trees lined up to give an unobstructed view of the Klein or Arrencani houses. So there were still a couple of streets in between when she knew that they had visitors. Her first question was who was there. She quickly checked her phone for messages, now actively focusing on her weary expression so that Nina wouldn’t have to worry about her. No messages from Brock. Then she checked his location, signing in remotely to her surveillance control terminal. She really shouldn’t have done that on her phone without a full sweep to make sure nobody was looking over her shoulder first, but if there were bugs in her own car that she hadn’t spotted, someone already knew too much. Brock wasn’t home. It looked like he was on the way back from a farm on the outskirts of Bexborough, though she didn’t have much idea why he would need to go there. Had he perhaps located Roman’s storage facility in a barn somewhere? In any case, he wasn’t at home. So next, Isadora pulled up the footage from Mrs Stanwick’s doorbell camera. The poorly-secured commercial device didn’t have a particularly good field of vision, especially belonging to an older woman who had no idea how to set it up properly. But it was perfect for keeping a watch on the front door without using any technology that could potentially arouse suspicion. And it was perfectly placed to let Isadora check the identity of the mysterious visitor. Unless, of course, a twig falling from one of the trees in Mrs Stanwick’s garden had caught on the edge of her fountain, and was hanging in exactly the right place to cover the car’s plates. Isadora gripped her phone slightly tighter, aware that she wouldn’t have much more time before they were at the house. But she thought as fast as she could, and hacked the online access to Alison Cartwright’s security system instead. It would have served her purposes just as well, except that the car was parked at a slight angle, behind Alison’s hedge. Isadora started to worry that fate was conspiring against her; how could she be so unlucky? But then she checked the recorded footage from the same camera. It was sure to have caught the plates at least briefly while the car was turning into the Kleins’ driveway. And there was a gap in the footage; a thirty second gap showing only an error message. There was no way all this could have happened by chance. And a faint flicker in the window of the house, barely enough for the camera to pick up, suggested that someone was inside the Klein house. It wasn’t Brock, and it wasn’t Isadora. The alarm hadn’t gone off, and she knew before she checked that a mysterious fault had somehow prevented the cameras on the neighbourhood’s gate from picking up the new car as anything more than a splotch of lossy MPEG artefacts. Whoever this was knew countersurveillance, but they were already close to the house now. “Oh, I forgot,” she bluffed, looking up. “Bernard’s got a friend visiting today. We’ll have to talk to him some other time.” “I don’t mind waiting until he’s free,” Nina said. “You can’t just back away from the difficult conversations whenever someone else is around. Maybe we can help Dookie get settled into his new nest until Daddy’s free.” Isadora laughed a little, but she knew that wasn’t an option. She didn’t know what she was coming home to now, and she didn’t want Nina to be there. But how was she going to convince her friend of that? Thankfully, the careful positioning of the car where its rear plates wouldn’t be visible from Alison’s security camera gave her an extra option. “Spencer never manages to park straight,” she bluffed, as they came close to the car. “Trust me, there’s not room for us to get through the gate there. Head around the corner and park on Rossetti Way, I can walk over. It’ll be a little closer for you to get home as well. Or if it’s easier, we could park up at your place and I’ll walk back. So I’m not interrupting all their business talk.” “You’re too little to care about business talk,” Nina answered with a smile, but she gave up trying to get onto the driveway at number 42, and headed back towards the house she shared with Victor instead. “We can go back to my place, but sooner or later you’ll need to talk to Bernard. I can say the embarrassing bits for you, if you want. I’m getting real good at embarrassing bits lately. How long is his friend usually here for?” “I’m not sure,” Isadora said, and on impulse tried to make up something that would justify staying away from the house for a little while: “I think they might know each other from church as well, friends outside of work, you know? It’s never been something that appealed to me.” But her mind was already racing. She had at least managed a proper look at the car as they passed. It was a long, low executive saloon in a deep scarlet, an indication of personal wealth that would have fitted in on any drive in Evergreen Estates. And just like the car of every neighbour who cared about brands, it would turn heads. But Isadora had spent long enough cataloguing her neighbours’ cars to see what was unusual about this one. The tyres were too wide and too thin in the sidewall for a car that was only meant to carry a businessman to his meetings, and there were bright red brake callipers peeking out behind the wheels. Every inch was polished like a status symbol; but the enlarged air inlets and twin exhaust weren’t a standard fitting on this model. It looked pretty distinctive; so it hopefully wouldn’t be too hard to track its route here using traffic cameras, if all else failed. “Then he should be more considerate,” Nina said firmly. “You don’t want to not be there when the guest leaves, but you don’t want to interrupt their business either. I can tell how nervous you are. Better if I join you, so we can entertain ourselves with something fun while they do all the grown-up things.” “Yeah, but… No, it’s just that…” Isadora stuttered, desperately trying to think of the right answer in this situation while keeping one eye on her phone’s database search. She’d run the number now, and she wasn’t entirely surprised to see that the car was flagged as a rental, from a premium executive fleet. She was, however, a little taken aback when she saw that it had last been picked up four days before from a stand at La Mesa Airport, billed to a corporate account which was a front for a front for a shell company which had been closed down two years before after the authorities managed to link it to the triads. This wasn’t just staying undercover; this was the disguise of someone who wanted to show off their forgery skills, and didn’t care if everyone who looked beyond the surface level knew that it wasn’t real. It was a carefully tailored shroud of mystique. Isadora couldn’t think of anyone in this case who would be so proud of having secrets, almost daring someone to pull the mask away; and she didn’t have time to investigate further because the car stopped abruptly, with Mrs Stanwick half running towards them, and waving like she was trying to flag down a passing lifeboat. Isadora wound down the window, but Mrs Stanwick spoke before she could wrap words around the question. “Oh, thank goodness, there you are,” she said, slightly out of breath. “I’ve been to the Whitmans’, but she wasn’t home yet, and to the Donovans’, but nobody knew where you’d gotten to. I didn’t want to telephone. It’s not the kind of thing you say over the telephone.” She glanced at Nina in the driver’s seat, and hesitated. But she was feeling the pressure to share what she knew now, and there would have been no polite way to ask for a word in private. “Did you know you’ve got a visitor at your house, dear?” The word ‘visitor’ was carefully enunciated. Like a high-society lady carefully wrapping a napkin over something she didn’t want to handle; but there was no guessing what the metaphorical squashed spider inside the bundle might actually be. “We were just talking about him,” Nina answered. “One of Bernard’s friends, Stella said, from work or from church. But he’s parked askew at the end of the driveway, so we couldn’t get in. We’ve been debating how much time to give them for their men-talk before we can go back there.” “Oh, she didn’t look like she came for men-talk, dear. Or church talk. She looked… well, she’s wearing a cross, but she didn’t look like any churchgoer I’ve ever seen. Certainly doesn’t go to any of the ones I’ve been to, and I can tell you I’ve been almost everywhere between here and Fairhaven once or twice.” “I’m sure you said ‘he’, Stella?” Nina asked, but she pulled the car onto the grass and started to unfasten her seatbelt without waiting for an answer. “I don’t know,” Isadora said, while a battle raged on between brain cells trying to figure out who was actually there, and those desperately trying to concoct a story that would defuse her friends’ curiosity. “I know he said someone from work, maybe I just guessed who it’s going to be. There are women in the office too, but–” “From work?” Nina repeated, as if hearing the same answer again might set her mind at ease. “It could be nothing,” Mrs Stanwick said. “But when I saw her, walking up to the house like that, so confident, it’s clear there’s only one idea she wanted to put in the mind of any man who saw her. And I said to myself, Peggy, that poor girl ought to know. Before she walks in on something. I could come round with you, if you like? In case she turns out to be, you know, not a nice person.” “That’s very kind,” Isadora said. “But really, there’s no need. I’m sure Bernard has it all in hand.” She had meant it as a brush-off, and only heard how it sounded once the words were out. Mrs Stanwick’s eyebrows climbed. And in the front seat, Nina had gone very quiet. “That’s why you didn’t want to go home,” Nina said slowly. “Isn’t it? You knew she’d be there.” “No. Nina, it’s not…” But Nina wasn’t listening anymore. She was climbing out of the car, slamming the door with a determination that made it clear her words would quickly turn into action if Isadora couldn’t dissuade her. “He doesn’t get to do that,” Nina said, more aggressively than Isadora had thought she was capable of. “So what if he’s a grown up? We’ve let our men control everything now, done so much for them. You were going to ask him to do something for you, something that really matters, and there’s someone else in there with him. Well, you can’t say ‘no’ to him, but somebody needs to tell him what’s up. Come on, I’ll be your support, just like I said. Just let me do the talking.” “Nina, wait!” Isadora started to panic as Nina began striding back towards the house. Neither of them knew what was really going on, but Isadora had enough suspicions to be seriously afraid for her friend’s safety. She imagined passing it off as a mistake; as someone from work; as some kind of surprise. But there was nothing she could say now that Nina would actually believe. Not without revealing all of her secrets at once. It was a no-win situation. She scrambled out of the back seat, the little ferret Dookie still clutched in one hand, and almost collided with Mrs Stanwick, who was fussing around and made no effort to stand aside. Nina was already halfway back to Tennyson Avenue, small and furious, with her fists clenched at her sides. “Wait!” Isadora called as she rounded the corner. “It’s not what you think, Nina. Trust me on this, please. You don’t want to interrupt–” The red car was still parked at the end of the driveway, and Nina had to walk around it before she could squeeze past. She stopped there for a moment and had to look back, to see Isadora catching up on her while Mrs Stanwick followed at a brisk walk. “I can see how upset you are, Stella,” she said. “That’s all I need to know. Your Daddy needs to look after you properly, especially when you’ve changed so much for him.” “I know. But please, can we talk about this somewhere else? I can face Bernard later, and I don’t want to–” She could see Nina’s determination starting to soften, and she might have been able to turn this around. But she was shocked into silence when the front door of her house swung open and a figure appeared, framed by warm light from the hallway that made it hard to be sure about any details, but brought even more emphasis to a figure that most normal people would die for; and clothes that did nothing at all to hide it. “There you are,” the woman in the doorway purred like a cat, and grinned like a tiger. “You must be the wife, I suppose. And who’s your friend? You should come in, I just made coffee. And I’ve been dying to meet you.” Nina started walking forward without any hesitation, and Isadora rushed to catch up, still not sure what kind of ambush she was walking into. The strange woman, on the other hand, leaned back comfortably against the doorframe as if it had been her house all along. This last part is drawing out longer than I thought it would… I wonder if anyone can guess the last twist of Act IV yet. -
By diaperedtransgirl · Posted
Hi everyone! Just a small update regarding my incontinence progress: I've decided to speed up becoming a bedwetter, following Serah's method, detailed here. That should greatly reduce my daytime continence too, and hopefully help towards my progress. Will update as part of Month 2 update! -
@rusty pins: Thank you for your comments and your opinion. It is sad when a user can’t acknowledge that their unqualified comments are their opinion. I made no comment on if that opinion is shared by a majority or minority of other users or people in general. From the reply above it is obvious that I can’t have a reasonable discussion on this topic with that user at this time. And the only opinion that really matters in this case is the site owner’s ( @DailyDi ). @DailyDi (and/ or moderators): Feel free to close this thread from further comments / responses if you see fit or see the need. Thank you for running as open a site as you try to. All: Best wishes. -
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