Jan mused on the vision of an apartment in a high-rise building. If you told someone you lived in a high-rise flat they would have an instant picture of graffiti, drug dealing, gangs of youths, residents fearful of using the lift but unable to reach their home any other way. Twelve levels of steps could not be attempted especially with items to carry.
Tell someone you live in a penthouse flat and their face registers interest and respect immediately. A well kept building, with perhaps a commissionaire, top security, and a panoramic view comes to mind. It is possible both the high-rise building and the penthouse flat share the same stunning view.
But this is mainly in the United Kingdom, in many other countries apartments in high-rise buildings are often well kept, law and order observed and the sales and rentals of these homes are financially realistic. Jan lived in such accommodation in Durban, South Africa.
In her twenties and at cross-roads in her life she decided to travel to South Africa to work, seeking adventure with a backdrop of some sea and sunshine. Within days she had a job and had secured a flat in a building called Westpoint, enabling her to move from the hotel room she had booked before leaving the U.K.
Westpoint was painted pink. It was designed so that every flat had a floor to ceiling view of the yachting mole. At night the harbour lights twinkled like diamonds; it was a view Jan never tired of during what became a ten year stay in Durban.
As is the norm when living in a very hot country dressing is the last thing to do before setting out for the office, because clothes quickly become wet and creased. Walking to the office at 0700hrs Jan would try to find shade from trees and shop blinds along the way. Another change to her U.K. routine would be that people rose very early in the morning, usually between 5am and 6am when it was cool to do jobs before going to work.
If you stood on the pavement at 9.30pm and looked up at a block of flats you would see very few lights on. Most people were tired at the end of a working day and went to bed.
The apartment resembled the shape and size of a shoe box, but it was a start thought Jan and the view really was beautiful. The flat was narrow with a shower in-line with the front door, a small kitchen area next to the shower – just two hobs, and a drop leaf table, dividing this area from the bed which was a settee during the day, wardrobe and bookcase.
One morning around 6am just as Jan stepped out of the shower the front door began shaking. She looked out of the window and thought, how strange, the trees showed no sign of it being a windy day. Why she did the following thing she will never know, but she bent down and looked through the key hole, straight into a bright light blue eye! Jan froze on the spot, naked just like a rabbit caught in the glare of headlights.
She stepped out of view of the door towards her wardrobe and put on a dressing gown, shaking from the shock. Once she felt calm again she dressed, completed the tasks planned and before making her way to work plugged the key hole with cotton wool.
The next morning it happened again and the cotton wool was forced back into her room whilst the door continued to shake. She spoke to the caretaker/manager Mr Van der Mervwe, (yes he really did have that joke butting name) who was resident in the building, but he knew nothing about it.
As it continued each day Jan decided to report the incident to the police. A police officer arrived the following morning at 5.30am. Jan felt she had to shower and run her hair through Carmen rollers before his arrival and they sat together for an hour but no peeping Tom appeared.
The next morning the police officer was half an hour late but still the peeping Tom did not arrive. Mr Van der Mervwe was very interested in these visits, so was his wife who, when Jan said she had seen a royal blue shirt as well as the blue eye she doubted Jan's word and said it was not possible.
These visits from the police officer continued for the next two days, the police officer arriving later each morning and the peeping Tom not arriving at all until the fifth day the officer didn't arrive either. Perhaps like Jan he was tired of making small talk with a stranger at 6am.
When travelling in the lift to reach her 7th floor flat she would enter cautiously if a man was there, gazing into to his eyes, not lovingly of course, but suspiciously checking for blue eyes. Jan could not imagine anyone she knew at Westpoint doing this.
The visits ceased, perhaps he had found another door handle to hold whilst actively engaging his other hand, perhaps the police presence had frightened him away. Jan was very relieved and felt comfortable in her home once again.
One early morning Jan looked out onto the yachting mole, as always with great pleasure, when she noticed Mr van der Mervwe sitting on a seat that overlooks the small boats bobbing in the bay, the large ships carrying cargo and passengers and the lush green gardens with flowers. Often brides would have their wedding photographs taken at this beautiful location.
Now why was Mr van der Mervwe ignoring this view and twisting his body round to gaze up at the widows of Westpoint?
Jan knew why. By this time she had smartened up!