If anyone was ever to bother to listen they would realise that Joan had more stories to tell than you would ever imagine. Widowed, lonely, standing by her window watching the neighbours ignore her with their laughing children and partners poking barbecues in summer or digging the snow from their paths in winter.
In her younger days she had wondered if it was true that women become invisible after 50...and she felt at least for her that had been true. Her neighbours never came to check on her in the cold weather, during the lockdowns or invited her to their garden parties. To them she was just some old lady who may as well not have existed. Some rich old lady, as she was away much of the time enjoying her cruises.
Cruise ships were when Joan’s world came to life. Lunch at the captain's table, crew that always made sure she was happy and her drink of choice by her side, and entertainers who always made her feel included. Joan’s world grew as she left her front door to the gangway of the ship from a tiny pinprick to the whole world. The friends she made each trip would laugh with her late into the evening.
Joan watched the new neighbour next door pull up in his car with his coiffed stubble and well groomed man bun. “Stupid vegan hippy type” she muttered, then checked herself for making assumptions based on appearances. After all, she hated it when people did it to her. Nobody would assume she had used these long lonely evenings after her silver surfers course to learn computer hacking, coding and all the other high tech skills.
If the neighbours had taken the time to get to know her they would know the truth was she wasn't a rich old lady. It had never been easy to make ends meet even to pay the bills let alone afford fancy holidays until she had stumbled upon the idea of turning her invisibility to her advantage. All the nuisance callers, with their inane questions about whether she wanted her roof repaired, to join their religion or change her electricity supplier were happy to come in for a cup of tea. A tea laced with drowsy poison that made them succumb to sleepiness and confusion. Stealing their bank details and hacking into their bank accounts meant they money was often moved from their account to hers before they had even had their lifeless bodies thrown in the old bathtub of acid. Granted it took a while for the bodies to dissolve but she preferred to use her shower room now anyway.
The police smiled sweetly at her when making their door to door enquiries. Their forensic psychologist had told them to look for a young male, perhaps with a computer degree feeling disengaged from the world as their profile suspect so she never hit their radar. Oh the assumptions people make.
In her younger days she had wondered if it was true that women become invisible after 50...and she felt at least for her that had been true. Her neighbours never came to check on her in the cold weather, during the lockdowns or invited her to their garden parties. To them she was just some old lady who may as well not have existed. Some rich old lady, as she was away much of the time enjoying her cruises.
Cruise ships were when Joan’s world came to life. Lunch at the captain's table, crew that always made sure she was happy and her drink of choice by her side, and entertainers who always made her feel included. Joan’s world grew as she left her front door to the gangway of the ship from a tiny pinprick to the whole world. The friends she made each trip would laugh with her late into the evening.
Joan watched the new neighbour next door pull up in his car with his coiffed stubble and well groomed man bun. “Stupid vegan hippy type” she muttered, then checked herself for making assumptions based on appearances. After all, she hated it when people did it to her. Nobody would assume she had used these long lonely evenings after her silver surfers course to learn computer hacking, coding and all the other high tech skills.
If the neighbours had taken the time to get to know her they would know the truth was she wasn't a rich old lady. It had never been easy to make ends meet even to pay the bills let alone afford fancy holidays until she had stumbled upon the idea of turning her invisibility to her advantage. All the nuisance callers, with their inane questions about whether she wanted her roof repaired, to join their religion or change her electricity supplier were happy to come in for a cup of tea. A tea laced with drowsy poison that made them succumb to sleepiness and confusion. Stealing their bank details and hacking into their bank accounts meant they money was often moved from their account to hers before they had even had their lifeless bodies thrown in the old bathtub of acid. Granted it took a while for the bodies to dissolve but she preferred to use her shower room now anyway.
The police smiled sweetly at her when making their door to door enquiries. Their forensic psychologist had told them to look for a young male, perhaps with a computer degree feeling disengaged from the world as their profile suspect so she never hit their radar. Oh the assumptions people make.
