Emily, Wednesday 22.12.10 (Part 2)

It was David at the door. Turns out nobody at the work party told him that I wasn't coming and he just sat on the staircase, between parties, waiting to catch a glimpse of me. I told him that I was called away to see my grandmother. I made up a lie about her being sick. I got quite carried away, actually, and went so far as to say that she might die. I hate to tempt fate like that but I was blindsided by David showing up and I'm not very good at making things up on the spot. If you're going to lie, my father once told me, you should meticulous plan it out in advance, covering every possible detail just in case the person that you're lying to throws you a curve ball.


David also pointed out that I had a large cut on my cheek. I hadn't noticed until he mentioned it, it doesn't hurt and there are no mirrors in the house. I told him that I slipped on some ice and caught my face on a wall. Not exactly the best lie I've ever told but, as I said, his being at my house caught me by surprise. Turns out we have a mutual friend. Well, we had one. David dated Molly when he was at school. She doesn't seem like his type but then people change, I guess. He got Molly's address from my boss, a friend of theirs asked him to drop off her Christmas present. David was just as surprised to see me as I was to see him.


I would have invited him in, under different circumstances. He seems like a great guy. We talked on the doorstep about Christmas being nothing more than a marketing ploy. I asked him about his plans for Christmas day and he said that he had none. His mother, it seems, is a raging alcoholic. Last year, David spent the whole day watching TV because his mother had fallen asleep before the end of dinner. I told him that if he gets bored he can come over as I too will be alone. Probably not the best idea, considering my current circumstances, but I'll take any opportunity to spend more time with him.


After David left, I tried to piece together any evidence to explain how I got back here. The backdoor had been locked when David had knocked and the front door is locked as well. Did I lock them? Or did the person or persons who brought me here lock them?


The reason I say that is because I stopped off for a drink in the pub down the road from my grandmother's on the way there, to steady my nerves, and I got chatting to a guy who claimed to know my father. He said he'd been his best friend at school and he bought me a drink. Perhaps he drugged me and then snuck into my grandmother's house on Friday night? Doesn't seem likely but then neither does going to bed on a Friday in one place and waking up on a Wednesday, naked, in another.


All the stuff I took with me is here; my suitcase, my laptop, the briefcase and the book. It was all on my bed when I went up to my room to put some clothes on.


And then, having found nothing in my house to help me figure out how I got home, I checked my messages.


And guess what? This "Arthurman" character did give a perfect description of me, you're right. But his description of my clothes and the other things (duvet cover etc) don't match up with the night that my house was broken into. They match up with what I wore to bed at my grandmother's! This person, whoever he is, followed me!


So I decided to investigate his other comments. The answer to the riddle he left on entry 9 (Tuesday's message) is either 1 or 0, depending on how you read it - I lean more towards 1. As for his comment on entry 10: "Pick up sticks. Pick up sticks. Look for Bricks. Look for bricks" - I noticed that it was posted on the same day that my brother's dad's old shed was broken into and, low and behold, at the back of the shed I found lots of sticks. Underneath these sticks were nine bricks laid out on the floor. They were laid out to form either an "S" or a question mark. Either way, I think that 1 and 9 might be the first two digits of the code for the briefcase. It's the only thing I can think of. Unless they're supposed to be put together to make 19. Does the number 19 mean anything to you? I know it was a number heavily referenced in the Stephen King series The Dark Tower but, other than that, they mean nothing to me.
And then there's this book, The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy. I looked it up on the internet and the number 42 is, in the book, the answer to life the universe and everything. I tried 1942 but it didn't open the briefcase. I guess I'll give this copy a read over the next few days and see if I can find any clues in it. Whoever broke into my house, "Arthurman" or not, left it for me for a reason.


I'll talk to you tomorrow.