Cold Calling

I have been isolating for three months now. Sneaking out to do the shopping on a Thursday at 9am. Home by 9.45. Like an escaped convict. I’m waiting for the call. I’m going to take it in both arms. I’d take it in the eyeball if they asked me. If I stay here all alone for much longer, I will go insane. I might run screaming naked down the street. 

Of course, I wouldn’t. It’s too cold for one thing. Also, I’m not the type. I’ll scream inside my head inside my house while Judge Judy eats the face off another liar.

I should have kept in touch with people, but after Denis died, I just, well… It’s too late now to pick up the phone.

It’s only really Cathy who rings regularly, from Canada, I enjoy these calls because I get to hear about my grandchildren and their ice hockey achievements, or their ice hockey injuries.  Cathy’s commentary on the games is like listening to the Grand Prix, sometimes.

Margaret from the Bridge Club calls occasionally with ‘startling news’ such as Andrew Hamilton is getting false teeth, or Mary Grady’s hair is a wig. Margaret had her vaccination last month. Her son is a GP. She swears it was a coincidence, but well…I shouldn’t begrudge her being out in the world, visiting people.  But I do.

I tell her about the two-for-one deals in SuperValu on Riesling and that Sarah Frost is going potty like her mother before her. 

So those are the chats I enjoy. When the phone rings, I am drawn to answering it, in case it’s my GP with the vaccine appointment. 

Then there are the other calls. Twice or three times per week. Every week. All more or less the same. 

Hello Miss Redmond, this is Martin, I’m calling from your internet provider to let you know that your broadband server has been hacked and unfortunately, all of your emails and social media accounts are seriously compromised.

The thing about these ‘internet’ phone calls is that I don’t have the internet, I don’t know what broadband is and I most certainly don’t have a social media account. I read the papers to keep myself informed. 

In the beginning, I used to hang up on these nuisance callers but recently I decided to have a little fun with them. The speech would always finish in a similar fashion:

Miss Redmond, this anti-fraud service incurs a one-off cost but for today only, there is a 20% discount, so instead of a €50 fee, it’s just €30. Have you got your credit card nearby?

Usually, I’d hang up long before this point, but lately, I’ve asked them to hold on while I get my card and then I go to the fridge and get a glass of wine and put a Demis Roussos LP on the turntable beside the phone at full volume and I have a little dance. I am 77. I have nobody to dance with but I don’t let that stop me. It usually takes about five minutes for the phone to go dead.

Last week, I was about to go and get the Riesling, but there was something about the accent that was familiar. She said her name was Lucy.

‘Where are you calling from my dear?’

Now I can’t do the accent, but I’ll give it a go.

‘I am sorry but that is confidential information. As an anti-fraud department, we must operate with absolute discretion.’ She was reading it from a card.

‘It’s just that you sound like an old friend of mine from Vilnius?’

There was a long pause.

‘Yes, I am calling from Lithuania. Our anti-fraud department is based here.  Sometimes. We… have to move around.’

I bet they did. She sounded like she’d said too much. ‘But that is not important. Can you read out the long 12 digit number on your credit card please ?’

I ignored her. ‘I spent two years in Vilnius you know. I fell in love with a man there.’

‘Miss Redmond?’

‘I should have married him, Lucy. I went on a trip with the Bridge Club. Oh God, I’d love to go on a trip with the Bridge Club now. Even as far as Kilkenny. 

But this trip to Vilnius was fifteen years ago. I brought my elderly mother. She had never been abroad. She’s dead now.’

‘I’m sorry Miss Redmond, now if you could just read me the long number….’

‘He was a waiter in the hotel, Lucy.’ 

Why was I telling this to a scam artist?

‘She died there.’

A long pause.

‘I’m very sorry Miss Redmond.’ she whispered.

She was a human voice. Lucy was listening.

‘His English was very good, not as good as yours obviously. The thing is… I don’t know how to say this… but I didn’t like her very much.’

‘Excuse me? Who did you not like?’ Lucy’s voice was lowered.

‘My mother. She had become very cantankerous-‘ 

‘Cantank- what is this word, please?’

I raised my voice because I found I had been whispering too. ‘Difficult, constantly complaining, demanding. Jonas understood.’

‘Jonas?’

‘The waiter. We killed her. At least I killed her, but he helped me. I put the pillow over her face and then, when she was still struggling, he got behind me and added his weight to mine. She was gone within seconds. There was very little suffering. I’m not cruel. Nor was he.’

There was a long pause. I knew this call was not ‘being recorded for quality and training purposes’. I waited for her to speak, but she didn’t, though I could hear her light breathing, so I continued.

‘Jonas and I had become lovers within days of meeting, Lucy. He could see how difficult it was for me. He told me the hotel staff had a name for her: drakonas. A dragon. It sounds so much better in Lithuanian. That’s exactly what she was.’

‘Miss Redmond, you murdered your mother?’ No mention of the 12-digit number now.

‘Well, yes dear, but it wasn’t planned. I like to think that if I ever got caught, I’d be done for manslaughter instead of murder. You see, Jonas and I were in the adjoining room and we were…well… and she guessed what we were up to, even though we were quiet, and she knocked on the door and demanded that I unlock it. It was two o’clock in the morning. And when we both put some clothes on, I opened the door and she called me all sorts of names. I was a harlot, and a jezebel. I was a youngish widow, for God’s sake. But she was old-fashioned like that, thought I should spend the rest of my life in mourning, like her. She picked up her shoe and threw it at me. Well, I don’t mind telling you, I saw red. So I killed her. With a little help, though I could have managed on my own. 

‘Miss Redmond’ she said ‘why are you telling me this?’

‘We’re both criminals, my dear. I knew you’d understand... The next day, Lucy, I ‘found’ my mother dead and Jonas called the most disreputable doctor he could find. He signed off on the death certificate, said she’d died of a heart attack. And we buried her there, in Vilnius.  I was her only child and I told the other relatives not to come, except Cathy and her new husband of course. We had the most marvellous week after that. I decided to stay. 

Jonas and I were free and everything was wonderful for the two years we spent together. Until I got bored with him and then… oh I’m so sorry my dear, did you want the long credit card number now?’

‘You killed him?’

‘What? No. I left him. Should have stayed. I might call him later. Go visit him when restrictions are lifted.’

She hung up on me then. I was surprised it had taken her so long. 

Still, it’s good to talk. 

First published in ‘Hello Magazine’ - 25th January 2021