Last night Lulu slept at her dad, on these nights I manage to (usually) sleep early because I am relieved from kiddie duty for the evening. This means I can work for my allotted hours and finish at a reasonable time, rather than the midnight typing sessions I do the rest of the week.
At 8pm I got my ‘all is ok’ text from my ex-husband, which theoretically should have been it. But for some reason as I was getting into bed at 11pm I suddenly had a bad feeling. As all mothers know, these feelings and thoughts are common and I usually dismiss them. But last night they won the battle. Knowing I wouldn’t be able to sleep until I knew Lulu was ok I texted my ex to check that everything was fine.
He didn’t respond.
I of course took this as a sign that my fears were genuine and there was indeed a catastrophic problem. I then called, he didn’t answer. Now you’re probably thinking – well it was very late he was most likely sleeping. For a normal person that might be true but my ex is a workaholic and has literally fused himself to his mobile, it is therefore very out of character for him not to answer.
I then called the landline, which he didn’t answer either. I was then faced with 2 choices: I could either take a deep breathe and assure myself that my mommy instincts were in overdrive and attempt to sleep, or I could take more drastic measures.
I called the reception at his apartment building and told them to go bang on his door. The night porter told me he had both rang the bell and knocked and still there was no response.
It was now midnight. And I was in a panic.
So I did the only logical action left to me – I drove to his flat.
My ex lives in a secure apartment building, let’s nickname it.. oh I don’t know, something colloquial like Fort Fucking Knox. Basically if you have not been specifically invited and given the nod by the Grand Duke himself you ain’t getting in. This did not deter me.
I arrived outside the locked down structure at 12:13am. After calmly and (very) nicely explaining my dilemma to the night guards, I waited patiently for them to contact the powers-that-be to grant me access. Unfortunately the said powers were unreachable. I then tried the ‘but you know me’ tactic. It did not help.
I then told them it was ok, they could deny my car access but they could not deny my person. Oh yes.. just watch me in full mommy mode. I switched my car off and left it smack bang in front of the gate, got out my car and marched myself right up to the front door. Unfortunately the front door was quite a distance away, more than enough time for the guards to radio reception and warn them I was on my way.
I arrived in time to see them lock the front door. Ha! They had underestimated both my resolve and athleticism. I marched straight past the front door and proceeded around the back of the building to the private gardens. The entire time congratulating myself on my tenacity and problem-solving skills.
I had to pause in my self-congratulatory whispers while I worked out which apartment it was that I was aiming for. I finally spotted what I hoped was his and approached. Although my ex lives on the ground floor from the front entrance point of view, the ground drops significantly around the back and so from my viewpoint it was a good few meters above the ground.
No problem. I kicked off my flip-flops, slung my bag over my shoulder and headed for the closest hedge. A small prayer, a large smirk at my climbing prowess and I was in! I knocked on his door (ok fine I banged). He still did not respond. This of course reinforced my doomsday thoughts. It was with this justification that I tried the handle (which yielded) and I let myself in.
The room was dark so I called my ex’s name, to which he sat bolt upright and replied ‘arrrrrgh?’
I then noticed a lump in his bed and without thinking said, “who is that next to you?” He answered with his girlfriend’s name, the very same one whom he had broken up with a few weeks earlier. She was most likely pondering about the source of my confusion while she feigned sleep.
Well I had finally gained entry and so I left the slightly awkward threesome and went to check on Lulu. I found her happily snoring.
Not one to waste an evening, I then spent the next 30 min clearly explaining to my ex that he needs to keep his phone on in future. To drive my point home I warned that I would repeat the same little exercise every night to come if he deviated from my rules. I then raided his fridge, stole an anti-anxiety tablet and gracefully made my way out his front door and past reception.
When I reached my car it was to find that security had been called and my ex had to give the go-ahead to release me.
I am slightly tired today, but I think it was a fruitful experience. My ex has learned to never ever ever ever not answer my phone calls, his girlfriend has discovered that although I am an ex I am still very much around (at the foot of the bed kind of close), and the manager at the apartment block has learned that his building is easily breached and some measures should be taken.
Now that I think about it, I helped out a lot of people last night.