The Three Signs - Book 3 - JanelleChapter 2 Dust To Dust free porn video

We had been in Banksia Lodge for just on four weeks; we had finally got everything sorted out and put away properly; the studio was now set up fully; the lights were up on the ceiling, and we had just finished our first complete rehearsal. Garry, Murph and I had begun to refurbish some of the interior woodwork. We started by removing the picture rails from some of the rooms; Murph had found a suitable paint stripper that we could use to remove the white enamel paint that had been put over all of the lovely woodwork.

The stripper had a pretty strong odour; so we would work out in the garage with rubber gloves to protect our hands and dust masks on our faces to protect us from the fumes. After we had removed a length of wood trim from the wall, we would set it up on some trestles, then using old paintbrushes covered the painted surface with the gel stripper. It would take maybe thirty minutes before the paint had softened enough to the point where we could scrape it off with some thick putty knives. Where the paint was heaviest, it would take two applications of the stripper, then we would take an electric sander to smooth down the wood. Finally, once the wood was smooth, a coat of a dark wood stain would bring out the grain and texture of the wood.

There was a huge amount of wood trim inside that would need doing; we decided the only way would be to work a room at a time; we started on the main hallway; once the picture rails had been done, then we would do the moulding strips partway up the walls, then the skirting boards, and finally the trim around the doorways.

The woodwork was just one of many tasks we had on our list for revitalizing the house; the work in the yard would be a major undertaking as well. That would have to wait for at least a year; at the moment we were content with clearing the area between the back of the house and the clothes line, with a level paved area to sit when we used the barbeque. Garry had also marked out an area where he would set up a small vegetable and herb garden; with luck by next spring we might have tomatoes, lettuce, carrots, and squash growing. A bit further into the jungle, there was a wooden shed; we cleared enough of the lantana away so that we could get access to the shed. At the same time we uncovered a passionfruit vine that had been growing over the shed; we carefully disentangled the lantana canes from the vine, and with some care and attention it should bear fruit for us.

NSWIT had its graduation ceremonies during March; they, like UNSW, had so many graduating students that they split the ceremonies by faculty. The Communications ceremonies were held near the end of March, on a Thursday afternoon. It wasn’t only Lori that was graduating, but Wendy, Murph, Stephen and Greg. We decided to make a big event of it; since everyone’s family would be there, Jack had booked a private function room in the Mandarin Club, on Goulburn Street for the after-ceremony celebrations. I was proud to see Lori walk across the stage in her gown and collect her degree. Of course, I was happy for the other friends that were also graduating, but I was particularly pleased for Lori; I knew just how hard she had worked. She graduated with honours; and apparently had topped her graduating year.

The Mandarin Club was the perfect venue for our celebrations; there were over twenty of us; with everyone’s family and a few friends / partners. Jack had arranged for a large Chinese-style banquet; there was course after course; by the time the meal had finished, I was completely stuffed. Later that night, I gave Lori her graduation gift; a gold-plated Waterman pen, engraved with our names ... Well, she got a second ‘gift’; we made love until well after midnight.

A few weeks later, on April 15, my graduation was scheduled. The Science Theatre was packed with people, this was just one of many graduation ceremonies. Mine was the second ceremony for the Faculty of Science, I was there with my parents, my two grandmothers, and Lori. Earlier that day, just before lunch I had gone to the room down in the Blockhouse to rent my academic gown for the day; the hood was trimmed with a gold fabric, indicating I was being awarded a Bachelor of Science.

As well as the actual degree, I was also presented with the University Medal; after the ceremony, I was standing with Lori and my family; Professors Allen and Vowels came up to congratulate me. Of course, Professor Vowels spent time catching up with my father.

“Like Father, like son, eh, John?” he said to him. “Just like you, he got the Medal. Although I am hoping I can entice Will back to postgraduate study, and a career with us,”

My father took quite a few photos of me; some with Lori, some with Professor Allen, Professor Vowels took a photo of me with my parents. Back at home that night, Lori apologised for not having a special graduation present for me.

“I don’t need anything like that,” I said. “I’ve got you, that’s all I need.”

Again, we made love until late in the night.

April, 1980

I had become accustomed to the new travel arrangements to get to work, although the closest station was probably Artarmon; getting there required crossing the Pacific Highway, a pain in the arse in peak hour traffic; it was far quicker to head down River Road, taking the back streets to the station at Wollstonecraft, park there, and take the train to Wynyard, Lori would take a further stop and get out at Town Hall. It was a short walk for her to the Mirror’s editorial offices.

I timed my work hours so that I would end up catching the same train home as Lori; we had a certain time train that we would catch, and we rode in the same carriage each day. She still didn’t seem to be enjoying her job all that much; she would complain how she wasn’t treated as if she was a ‘real journalist’; she was expected to run errands for the senior (male) staff; and she would complain about how the mainly older, male staff treated her. I guess given that the Mirror was part of the Murdock News Corp stable, you really couldn’t expect the staff and management to have enlightened views; they would reflect the views of corporate management.

Conversely, I was enjoying my work at the State Government Computer Centre; I was now managing the installation of a number of data lines and network equipment in the central west of the State; there were a number of locations to be covered around Dubbo, Wellington, Orange, and Parkes, generally in each town, there would be one main ‘hub’, and from that, local lines would fan out to smaller offices. In some locations, all state offices were conveniently located within the one building, but that wasn’t always the case. However, since Lori wasn’t all that happy with her job, I didn’t rub things in by saying how much I enjoyed what I was doing, and how contrary to my initial feelings when I was told there wouldn’t be funding for a PhD program for me, and I would have to work for at least a year; I was glad I was out in the ‘real world’ getting some valuable work experience.

In fact, after some pretty devastating events around the start of the year – the disappointment about my PhD studies, Jillian’s death, Megan heading overseas, and the end of our gigs at Crystal, I was quite happy with how my life was at the present time. I enjoyed living in the new house; even the gigs at the Chatswood Civic Club were enjoyable. Only playing twice a month put less pressure on me; with Megan and Allison no longer in the group, the bulk of the vocals fell to me; while Mandy did some of the vocal work, and Rachel still did backing vocals, I was the main singer for most of our songs. All in all, I was relatively happy with my life.

That’s why I was surprised when Lori told me the night right after my graduation that we needed to talk, she said she was not happy with the way things were at the present time.

“I know you like the new place, you enjoy your job, and all that, but I’m really unhappy, I hate my job, and I need a change,” she said. “I can’t take things the way they are much longer!”

“Is it just the job? Surely you can quit, leave the Mirror, that’s a crap rag anyway. “There must be something else you can do.”

“Actually there is, and I’ve been made a fantastic offer; a big media company is planning on a completely new format and style of daily newspaper. I’ve been invited to be part of the planning and development team.”

“That’s fantastic, who is it with? Fairfax? Kerry Packer?”

“No ... it’s with Gannett media ... they are a company in the USA. The job is based in Virginia, right outside of Washington, D.C.”

“Washington? You mean, in the USA? So you want to leave here, leave me, and go over there? When did all this start?”

“About a month ago; one of the lecturers I had last year as my supervisor for my final year project; he was a visiting lecturer form the US. Anyway he’s on the project team with Gannett, he sent me a letter, and asked me if I would like to work with him on the project. He knew I’m a US Citizen, with a passport, so there’s no problems getting a work permit or visa.”

“Sounds like you’ve already made your mind up,” I said, beginning to get pissed off. “So, where does that leave me? I suppose you’ll just head off over there, and leave me.”

“Why don’t you come over with me? You could easily get into a PhD program in the area. I could show you around where I grew up, too.”

“You know I can’t do that, Lori, you know what happens when I try to get on a plane. We’ve been through this before”

I was now getting pretty agitated, I could feel my heart start to race.

“You’ve know about that problem with flying for years. So what have you done to try to resolve it? Nothing. Someone suggested hypnotherapy, my Father could have got you in the program they run at Qantas. You never did anything, did you? I think you like having that as a crutch, it means you don’t have to change your life, move out of your comfort zone. Fuck, Will, there’s a whole big wide world out there, just waiting for you to experience it. If I stay in my current job any longer, I’ll kill someone there, I know it.

“So, will you come with me? I can call my contacts, get them to arrange things for you as well. It would be fun for us; we could even get up to Rochester where Megan is, spend some time with her.”

“I said, you know I can’t fly, Lori. Plus I’ve got too much going on here, music, a job I enjoy, and the likelihood of the PhD next year. And you knew all that anyway; maybe this job is just a means to get away from me. Perhaps it’s not just the job you’re sick of, maybe you’ve become tired of me!”

“Fuck you Will! How could you think that of me? You know I don’t want to leave you, but I can’t stay here doing what I’m currently doing, either. What’s so bad about leaving here, and coming with me? Or are you scared of change?”

“I don’t need to change, I’m happy with what I have. But clearly you’re not happy, and I guess part of that is you’re not happy with me. It sounds like you’ve already made up your mind about what you intend to do, what I think about it really doesn’t matter to you, does it. So go on, go back to the States, bugger what I want, I’m not that important to you, am I?”

“That’s not what I was meaning at all!” she was now screaming at me. “You’ve got your head so far up your arse, you can’t even see what’s going on around you. If life just continues on, same stuff one day after another, you’re perfectly happy. You don’t want anything to change, you can’t handle life when it’s not steady and unchanging. Well, life isn’t like that, new things come up all the time, it’s those surprises and variations that make life fun. I thought – stupidly, I see now – I thought that you might like to do that with me. But you don’t give a flying fuck about what I want, you don’t want anything to interrupt your quiet, peaceful, boring existence. Well, fuck you, Will Morris. Fuck that for a joke. I’m not going to sit around doing fuck all with my life, putting up with the shit that I’ve had for the last few months at a dead end job, not when I can really make something of myself. The only question is whether you want to be a part of my life, and right now, I’m getting the feeling that you don’t really want to be part of my life.”

“Like I said, I think you’d already decided what you wanted to do, and I wasn’t really going to be a part of your plans. You just asked me to come with you to be polite, knowing that I wasn’t able, but at least that wouldn’t make you feel guilty by dumping me. I guess anything that makes you feel good about it; not having to be the one who broke things off. You’re just the same as Megan, just the same as Cathy. None of you really loved me, none of you wanted to change your life to fit me into it. I was just convenient to have around, just a warm body to fuck, that’s all I was to each of you!”

By now, Both Lori and I were screaming at each other; I’m sure the others in the house could hear us.

“I thought that you might at least have some interest in me getting a job where I could actually do the sort of work that I had felt was my destiny; do something that had always interested me. That’s what I’ve hoped for you, but you’re just too self-centred to see beyond your own life,” she said. “That’s always been your weakness, Will, you’ve never given a damn about anyone else in the world, except for what they might be able to do for you. I’m just wasting my time trying to convince you, you’ll never change. I’m going to sleep in the living room. I hope you have a good life from here onwards without me, because I’ve had enough of wasting my life with you.”

She stormed out of the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. I heard her in the living room, and there was a muted conversation, with Mary Beth by the sounds of it. I was too upset to go out of the room and talk with anyone, I decided to try to get to sleep, and see if things had sorted themselves out in the morning.

I assumed she had driven herself to the station; her car wasn’t in the garage when I got up in the morning. I made myself breakfast, got dressed for work, and drove to the station myself. I didn’t hear from her at all during the day; and when I got home, I saw that she had taken most of her clothes from our room. While I was starting work on preparing dinner, Mary Beth came into the kitchen.

“You really upset Lori last night,” she said. “She wouldn’t tell me much about it, but she’s taken her stuff and moved back home to Newport.”

I gave Mary Beth a brief outline of the job overseas that Lori had been offered. I didn’t tell her everything that we had said to each other, but she told me that it was the sort of job Lori had always hoped to get.

“She didn’t tell me any details, but I suspect she’ll be flying out within the next week,” she said.

The next evening Mary Beth gave me an update on Lori’s intentions.

“She’s definitely moving to Virginia,” she said. “All of her stuff from here is back at our parents place, she flies out next Friday morning, but she told me to tell you she doesn’t want to see you, and not to turn up at the airport.”

“I guess she’s making it clear it’s over between us,” I said. “Fuck it!”

That Friday morning at work, when I knew she was flying out, I couldn’t concentrate, my mind was far away.

“Will, are you okay?” Steve asked me. “I’ve called your name three times, is there a problem?”

“Sorry Steve, I just broke up with my girlfriend; she’s flying out to the States right about now to take a new job,” I said.

He said how sorry he was to hear that, and I told him how long we had been together.

“Look, I don’t want to pry into your private life, but all of us are here to help you if you need us. This isn’t just a job, we’re family, so ... don’t hesitate to ask for help. You’ve been putting in plenty of hours, take the rest of the day off if you want to.”

“Thanks, but no, I want to keep myself busy, keep my mind occupied,” I said.

Just before lunchtime, Mary Beth called me to say Lori had flown out, and told me she had the address of where she would be staying in the US.

“I think you should get yourself an aerogram, and over the weekend write her a letter, apologising, and mail it to her express air mail on Monday,” she said. “I don’t know what’s got into her, or what you said to upset her, but ... I’ve never seen her like she is, you’ve really upset her. I’m not blaming you, I don’t know the full story. But unless you don’t want her back in your life ever again, you need to swallow your pride, and write to her.”

Mary Beth’s suggestion was a good one; at lunchtime I walked to the nearest post office, and bought a few aerograms. I would spend the weekend writing to Lori. On Monday morning, I ducked out of work for a short break at morning tea time, and posted the letter I had written to Lori’s address in the USA. I was told it would take about seven business days to reach the destination. While I was waiting for Lori’s reply, I kept myself busy; long days at work, and in the evening, I would strip the paint off some of the woodwork; after two weeks all of the woodwork in my bedroom had been restored; meanwhile Mary Beth and Murph had worked on most of the light fittings in the house; taking them down, cleaning all the glasswork, replacing the bulbs. In several rooms, they pulled out the old wiring; and even replaced a few switches. Now, when the lights were switched on at night, we could actually see things. Slowly the house was being restored to its former glory.

May 7th, 1980

A few weeks had passed since I had sent the letter to Lori; based on the time the mail took between Australia and the US, I wasn’t expecting a reply. I still checked the letter box every afternoon when I got home from work, just in case. I was sitting at my desk at work one Wednesday when my phone rang. I was half expecting it to be from our data services rep at Telecom, with an update on the some line installations; but it wasn’t him.

“Hey Will, it’s Mary, Mary Haggerty. You’re a hard guy to track down,” she said.

“Mary! Great to hear from you, how’s things going? I guess a lot has happened since you left to go home last summer.”

“It sure has, more so with you. I had to see Michelle, back where your office used to be. She gave me your number here. And filled me in on a few things. Do you want to meet for lunch today? I can catch a bus into the Quay, meet you somewhere? We can catch up.”

We set a time and place, we would meet just in front of Customs House, around twelve-fifteen. I told her we could grab a bite at the Paragon Hotel, just across the street from there. So, at the appointed time, I was waiting for her; I saw her get off a bus, and walk towards me. She looked almost the same as she did a few months earlier; she ran up the last few metres, put her arms around me, and kissed me on the lips.

“Oh, poor Will, things have been pretty rough for you, haven’t they?” she said.

“Yeah, life could have turned out better. Shall we talk over lunch? We can get something in the snack bar at the pub, my shout.”

We walked across to the pub; I liked how she held my hand as we crossed the road and entered the pub. We found a table for two; ordered our meals, and got some drinks.

“When I got back from holidays,” she said, “I tried to call you. But your old phone number was disconnected. So I drove around to where you had been living, and there was construction work, the terraces had been pulled down. So in desperation, I went up to where your office was, and spoke with Michelle, to see what she knew. She told me about Megan leaving, which I knew about, and also how your gig at that ballroom had come to an end. Plus she told me where you were living, and working. She said she hadn’t heard from you in over a month, and to tell you that she’s expecting a phone call from you one of these days. So, how’s things going? How’s Lori? Did that job she was talking about come through?”

“Um, well, that’s something that Michelle didn’t know about; Lori left me several weeks ago. She quit her job, and she’s now working for some major newspaper company, in the United States. We didn’t part on the best of terms, either.”

“Oh, Will, I’m so sorry to hear that, I thought the two of you were perfect for each other.”

She reached across to hold my hand, and rubbed her fingers softly on my palm.

“I guess this isn’t a good time to tell you this, but I’ve got some news of my own to tell you, too,” she said.

From her tone, I felt whatever news she had wasn’t going to be good for me.

“Brett, he’s my old friend in Young, well ... we hooked up again, just before Christmas, and we’ve been going steady ever since. He’s now down here, studying Accountancy, and we’re talking about finding a flat together. I’m sorry.”

Somehow, I wasn’t all that surprised; I had a suspicion back late last year that Megan and Lori were scheming somehow involving Mary. Despite what she had said to me during that last afternoon we spent together in her dorm room, I had felt an air of finality about it.

“Yeah, well, I guess that was bound to happen,” I said. “You had probably planned something like that all along, together with Megan and Lori, something to suck me in, and make me feel stupid. Thanks at least for having the decency to tell me; even if it took a while for you to be honest with me. Not much point me hanging around; I have to get back to work, and you’ve probably got lectures this afternoon. Goodbye Mary, it was nice while it lasted.”

I got off my chair, turned around, and walked out. I heard her call after me, but I didn’t turn around, or look back at her. She sounded like she was crying, but I didn’t want her to see me crying, and I couldn’t trust myself not to say anything I would really regret if I stayed with her any longer. I didn’t go directly back to work, instead I walked along the road towards the Opera House, then around Farm Cove and up though the Botanic Gardens. Eventually I walked down the Moore Steps to Circular Quay East, and finally back to work. I thought about everything with Mary; it had to have been some devious plan that Lori and Megan had cooked up. I suspect Mary had been an unwitting participant; everything with the relationship had been driven by the other two. I guess another way to make a fool of me. Well, I was sick of getting manipulated, sick and tired of being used by women. I wouldn’t let it happen again.

Mary called me back later that afternoon, and tried to explain.

“Mary, I don’t think we’ve got anything more to talk about. I enjoyed the time we had together, it was fun. But you’ve got Brett now, it’s over between us,” I said, and hung the phone up without letting her say anything.

A few minutes later, it rang again. I just hoped it wasn’t Mary, pleading with me to talk to her.

“Will Morris.”

“Will, it’s Michelle, Michelle Jones,” the person on the line said. “What’s all this that’s going on with you, I’ve got Mary Haggerty sitting at my desk, bawling her eyes out. You owe me an explanation, buddy! And yes, she told me something about Lori leaving you; I guess you couldn’t be bothered to let me know something as huge in your life as that? What’s got into you?”

I told Michelle that yes, Lori had dumped me to take a fancy job overseas, and she sprung it on me the day after my graduation. And as far as Mary was concerned, well, she was now involved with her boyfriend; I had told her last year that if she was involved seriously with someone else, then we couldn’t continue our relationship.”

“Sure, I can understand that,” Michelle said. “But you didn’t have to be so cruel, and treat her the way you did. Just because Lori dumped you doesn’t mean that you need to treat everyone else like shit. What’s gotten in to you? You’re not the same Will Morris that I know.”

“I guess I’ve just had my eyes opened. Anyway, I’ve got work to do, Michelle, I’m in the middle of a big project. I’ll talk to you sometime again, I guess.”

I slammed the phone down.

“Fucking women, trying to run my life!” I swore at the phone.

Steve glanced up, and looked at me with a quizzical expression on his face.

“Sorry about that, I was just upset about something,” I said. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”

I got back to my work, making changes on a NDL configuration printout to cater for the latest change in system requirements. After thirty minutes work, I really couldn’t concentrate on what I was doing; and I asked Steve if I could take the rest of the afternoon off.

“Anything you want to talk about, Mate?” he asked.

“No, I’ll be fine in the morning,” I said, as I left.

May, 1980

By the time three weeks had passed since Lori flew to the US; I still hadn’t received a reply to my letter. I was starting to think that she wasn’t going to reply, but then when I got home from work on the Friday, Mary Beth handed me a small padded envelope.

“This arrived in the mail for you today,” she said. “It’s postmarked ‘Virginia’, and it’s got Lori’s handwriting on it.

Excitedly, I tore it open. The fact that she had sent something larger than a standard envelope must be a good sign, I thought to myself. I looked inside, expecting to find some sheets of paper. Instead, there was a mass of tiny paper fragments. I tipped them out onto the table, it was the ripped up pieces of the aerogram that I had sent her. I assume she had read it, then torn it up into tiny pieces, and returned them to me. My heart dropped, I felt like I had been stabbed right through the heart.

“Well, I guess that makes her message pretty clear,” I said out loud, to no one in particular. “Clearly, she’s telling me that what we had is over.”

I turned on my heel, and headed out of the room. I could feel my eyes prickling; I had made it to the front door before the tears started streaming. I had no idea of what I should do; there was no future for me, not that I could see. I kept on walking, down the front path and out the gate. I spent the next few hours aimlessly walking; somehow I made a huge circle around Lane Cove; and around 10:30 I made my way back home. I didn’t want to talk to any of the others, instead, I went straight to bed, and cried myself to sleep.

The next morning, I felt terrible, I hadn’t slept much all night; I made myself a coffee, and when I had finished that, I got in the car, and drove down to Ball’s Point Reserve. I didn’t know what to do today; all I knew was I really didn’t want to be around the others, for once I could miss the regular rehearsal. I sat on a bench, looking out at the harbour, and watched the ferries and small boats go past. Around lunchtime, I walked back to my car, and drove up to where I had seen a milk bar, got a burger and a small bottle of Coke for lunch, and returned to the bench. I stayed there until it began to get dark; time to go home, I guess. When I walked inside, the others were there, and asked me how I was feeling.

“We were worried about you, Mate,” Garry said. “We didn’t know where you had gone.”

“I just drove down to the harbour, watched the scenery,” I said.

“We’re thinking of going up to the Longy for dinner and a drink or two,” Murph said. “Wanna come with us?”

I told him I wouldn’t, I would stay home and play some music. On the way out to the studio, I poured myself a large glass of bourbon; for once, I felt like a drink. Up in the studio, I powered on the equipment and the stage lights, and sat at my Rhodes. I played through a few songs, and tried to work out what kept going wrong with my relationships. Cathy, Megan, Lori, Mary; all of them ended when the other person decided that their life needed to take a different direction; they needed to be apart from me. None of them chose to discuss things with me; they made a decision, and pretty much told me ‘take it or leave it’. Somehow, I was just a convenient person to be with for a certain period of time, when my usefulness had run out, then it was time to leave me. Even Mary, although she wasn’t as devious as the others.

For Megan, I was someone to work with to develop her own musical talents; she achieved far greater success with me than she would have done by herself. As far as Lori was concerned; I was someone ‘safe’ for her to explore all of her sexual fantasies; to get inspiration for her writing. I was her ‘muse’; and once the ‘amusement’ was done, she decided to move on. I guess I must have been pretty stupid, pretty gullible; I had thought that with all of them, there was something special between us, something more than just a casual fling. But whatever future there was, it existed only in my head.

I wouldn’t be fooled again, no siree. From now on, I wouldn’t be stupid enough to ‘fall in love’. I don’t know why I had let myself fall for the ‘romance’ trick again and again. I was starting to get myself worked up and angry, so I told myself to get back to the music. I pulled out some sheet music, some classical stuff. The first piece I played was Bach’s ‘Air on G String’, which quickly morphed into Procol Harum’s ‘Lighter Shade of Pale’. Beautiful music, but the lyrics! I think they had just pulled a bunch of random sentences from a bunch of books; I had no idea what the meaning was.