Читать книгу The Real Lady Detective Agency: A True Story - Rebecca Jane - Страница 6

‘Is it eight yet?’ Steph asks me.

‘Not even close!’ I tell her.

‘I feel like I’ve been sitting here a lifetime; my bum is numb. I need a walk.’

All of a sudden I hear the jolly sound of a child-like jingle. It’s an ice-cream van!

‘Here you go, perfect opportunity for you,’ I say to her, handing over some coins and sending her off in search of ice cream.

‘Amazing! Surveillance is always made easier when an ice-cream man turns up …’

Steph isn’t wrong. We’ve been sat outside the same house for eight hours straight, and we’ve another three to go. I’m pretty sure it could be classed as a torture technique.

My life is crazy. There’s no two ways about it. Every day when the phone rings I never know what’s coming next. I think I’ve heard it all, and then someone new enters my life. They have seriously bizarre tales and, more importantly, problems that need solving.

When I say problems, I don’t mean things like: ‘Who’s going to make tea tonight?’ or ‘What shall I wear for my date on Saturday?’ The sorts of problems I hear about, and end up deeply involved with, are: ‘Is my husband having an affair?’ (that’s a very common one); ‘Is the man I met online who tells me he’s a multi-millionaire with boats and bodyguards real?’ (not every day, but that one’s blatantly another fraudster), or ‘Is my girlfriend’s house secretly being used as a brothel during the day?’ (that may sound ludicrous, but you’d be surprised how often it occurs).

My personal life used to be filled with drama, but when the need for drama in me went away, it manifested itself in a different form – a detective agency!

A new client picks up the phone and tells me their tale of woe. I sit and listen. If they go down the emotionally distraught route, I put myself in their position. The same position I once found myself in – and I had nowhere to turn. Am I shocked or surprised? Not at all. These tales they tell sound crazy and dramatic, but they’re all true. This is my life. My real life. Every day I find myself trying to complete the largest jigsaws known to man, putting together all the tiny pieces to help make some sense out of them on my client’s behalf. We create a picture, and it forms the truth. The scariest part for me is that I think this is all perfectly normal.

Sometimes I wonder if morally I’m doing the right thing … You’re either in Camp Yes or Camp No.

Camp Yes: They’re the people I do this for. They believe in every aspect of our work. They appreciate the need for the truth and an agency like ours to turn to. They totally believe my life motto: ‘If you’ve nothing to hide, you’ve nothing to be scared of.’

Camp No: They pretty much hate me (and our agency), and they make it known. They tell me that we entrap people, that we ruin relationships and look for things that aren’t there. I think they have something to hide!

Don’t get me wrong, I’m very firm in my beliefs: that we provide a good service to the general public and are helping anyone who asks for it. There are days, though, when Camp No get into my head. They make me question all my morals and beliefs. I’ll have a little battle with myself about the rights and wrongs, but then I have to let it go. I don’t believe I’m a bad person for doing what I do.

I created this dream and I’m standing by it. To help other people who are in need, to give them somewhere to turn when they have nowhere else, that’s the reason why, right now, today, I find myself sat in a car with a fellow lady and friend who got roped into this crazy plan with me. She’s one of many, and we sit with binoculars in hand ready to catch the cheaters – or the long-lost loves, transsexuals, missing relatives or, occasionally, a household pet or two. Every once in a while you can’t help but ask yourself, how on earth did my life come to this?