I sat most of the time, dreading the thought that soon it would be time to go to bed again. I now lived in constant fear of the dreams. I had been staying up as late as I could, hoping I could sleep sound enough the dreams couldn’t wake me. It had taken almost a month, before I was able to start doing most of the things that needed to be done around the house. It still bothered me to go outside. When I did have to go I never failed to see Barbra backing out smiling at me as she waved goodbye. I had Paul set the garbage at the curb so I wouldn’t have to go outside that day. It was on Tuesday when Paul said he was going to have to be gone out of town for two days, and asked if I would be okay here by myself. I was suddenly struck with fear but I said, ‘yes I’m sure I’ll be fine, you go ahead and go.’ Paul said, ‘Are you sure? If you don’t think you can handle it I’ll ask if there ‘s someone else they can send.’ I knew it would only be a matter of time before he would be sent out of. This 'house' I consider more than comfortable. Six bedrooms, a sunken lounge twenty families of overfed Arabs could make a home in, a kitchen bigger than any commercial kitchen I have ever seen before and all underground. Completely covered by native bush with natural lighting piped in and impervious to the bushfires, which are endemic around here. I designed it as my last bastion of defence free from the possibility of being beset from all sides. Unluckily the need of this security removed any possibility of having the house tended like the north shore house and a family of possums has made their home inside. A touch messy but nothing a little T.L.C. wouldn't repair. I have had the security prepared to allow for small problems such as this as I did not want be taking the four hour drive from base to here every two days, if nothing else the secrecy required would not last longer than two trips. It is a pity that this is my favourite piece of the world and I wasn't even able to visit.
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