I had just moved to the city, found myself a cute little apartment and begun the tiresome chore of unpacking. While cleaning out the drawers in the main bedroom, the bottom drawer base slipped out to reveal a secret hiding spot containing two shoeboxes and a diary. They’d been left behind by the last tenant and contained very juicy letters, notes, printed e-mails and diary entries.
Over the next few weeks, each night I would sit down with a glass of wine and immerse myself in the interesting and racy life of Michelle Harper. The things this girl got up to made my own heart skip a beat. I began to wonder why she would leave such personal belongings behind.
One evening while taking out my rubbish, I began talking to one of my new neighbours. I asked if they had known the girl who lived there before me. I was shocked at the response and realised why the items had been left behind. Michelle didn’t pack her belongings — she had been in a terrible car accident and died. Her family came to fetch her belongings two weeks before I moved to the city.
From then on, I felt a sense of compassion as I read the entries of this young girl who’d lost her vibrant life. I didn’t know what to do with the items and after reading them I knew they couldn’t be returned to her loved ones. I thought it would be heartbreaking for them to read the things she got up to and didn’t want to tarnish any memories they had. I decided to just let it go and continue living my own life.
Eight months passed and then one day I received a long-distance phone call. It was a guy who wouldn’t let me get a word in edgeways, blubbering, “Michelle, I know I said we wouldn’t call you again, but we can’t move past it. It’s been tormenting us for two years and I’m about to lose everything that matters. Why did you tell Lisa those lies about us, you lying b****? Can’t you just do the right thing and end this once and for all — tell her, tell her nothing happened between us! Why have you done this to us? I have so much to live for and you’re taking it all away.”
I could hear a woman crying in the background and screaming things like, “Just tell me the truth, I can’t live like this any more.” I also heard two upset children; one sounded like a baby. Once he stopped, there was a long pause and a lot of crying at the other end of the phone. I felt overwhelmed and saw an opportunity to make something good happen.
“Okay”, I began, “I’ll tell her nothing happened but you have to promise to never hurt her again. You should cherish your family and realise you put them in this situation.”
I knew who I was talking to. From what he’d said and the diary entries, it could have only been one man, Jack Thompson. He handed the phone to his wife. I was so nervous about being in the middle of this and, worse yet, possibly being caught out. I felt a burst of courage and put on a remorseful voice. “I lied; everything I told you was a lie. Nothing ever happened between us, I just wanted it to so I made up the whole affair. I was young and stupid and I’m sorry I did this to your family; I hope you can move on now. I’m very sorry for what I have done.”
There was a pause and then the sobbing woman at the end of the phone began screaming and hurling abuse at me. “You b****, how could you do this? You destroyed us for so long. Do you think it’s fun playing games with people’s lives? All this time we could have been happy. I hope you suffer, we are going to live long and happy together and I hope you grow old and lonely.”
I let her continue until finally she was reduced to soft sobbing and thanking me for finally telling the truth. After I got off the phone, I thought long and hard and wondered if I had done the right thing. I had my phone number changed and burnt Michelle’s personal belongings.
I still think about it to this day and wonder if their marriage worked out and if I did the right thing. Every time I think I haven’t, the sound of those children crying comes back to me and I remember my parents’ divorce when I was five. If they ever find out about Michelle’s death, then I guess it will be on again. Who knows? I hope they’ve moved forward into happier times.
Related stories
Native ad body.
Native ad body.
Native ad body.
