“Good morning,” I smile at the Doctor through the webcam.
“Hi. I trust you are well,” the Doctor smiles back. “I am with the accountant.”
“Good news?” I ask him a little surprised to see a little fat man with glasses sitting next to him. The said accountant seems totally engrossed in some documents and is paying very little attention to our conversation. “I hate seeing my accountant. Made a loss last year. The Naomi affaire drained my assets. How is your business? Did you sort things out with your partner? So… what does your accountant say?”
“Just setting up registration and tax,” the Doctor explains.
“Okay so it is moving,” I enthusiasm as if that would magically help things along. “That is good.”
“Yes,” the Doctor nods. “I want to send you 700 euro on Friday. I need your account so I can send it to you.”
“My paypal account or?” I ask him bewildered. “Where do I send the money to?”
“No your bank account,” the Doctor corrects me.
“Professional or personal?” I ask him eager to get things right.
“You need to send it to a PayPal account,” the Doctor goes over the details again.
“Okay,” I breathe deeply.
“Your personal account will do,” the Doctor answers nonchalantly.
“Okay,” I take another deep breath. Everything is going to be okay.
“Send it to email@example.com,” the Doctor instructs me.
“BE56 0012 4658 4988” I spell out my account number.
“Ok I will transfer it tonight,” the Doctor nods again taking due note of my account. “It should get to you on Friday. Please let me know you have it and when you sent it.”
“Who is Pavel?” I want to know.
“A friend if mine,” the Doctor answers coolly.
“Why are you sending him money?” I question him. “What do I put in the description?”
“He will bring me cash,” the Doctor informs me. “Sending to a friend.”
“So it is a loop,” I marvel at this little micro economy we will be setting up. “You send to me, I send to Pavel, he gives it back to you.”
“Yes of sorts he will lend me 700 euro and I will pay him back,” the Doctor says mysteriously. It makes no sense to me but I decide not to make it more complicated. “As I am not in Belgium I can’t send it from my account to him.”
“What type of payment is this?” I ask yet again just making sure for good measure. “Friends & family, or goods & services?”
“Friends and family,” the Doctor answers patiently.
“Sounds fishy, don’t you think?” I raise an eyebrow as I test him for a reaction.
“No why?” the Doctor answers dryly.
“Am I money laundering?” I ask him thinking of my first employment opportunity. “Haha for 700 euro.”
“Do you do your business the same way?” the Doctor asks me annoyed.
“What do you mean?” I ask him as I don’t immediately see the link.
“Is everyone a thief or just me?” the Doctor growls.
“Everyone is after something,” I explain my hesitation. “It is not about being a thief. It is more along the lines that everyone wishes me bad. It is hard to trust when your own mother wants you dead.”
“Wow self prophecy,” the Doctor whistles.
“Wow yes,” I retort.
“You realize I am not your mother,” the Doctor soothes my sore spot. “Let me explain. My bank requires me to be in their office to transfer money to anywhere outside the EU. Ok so far?”
“Yes,” I acquiesce.
“My credit card needs me to be in Belgium to make a payment or transfer to your account as they send me a code to a Belgian number I can’t access from Russia,” the Doctor goes into detail. “So I need your help. I send you money. You put it into your credit card and send it to Pavel’s PayPal account. All very legal.”
“Ok ok,” I nod. “But this IS a Belgian telephone number.”
“Good,” the Doctor nods. “No hidden agenda”
“Just covert speech,” I tease him back.
“No my Skype is linked to a Belgian number,” the Doctor shakes his head.
“Which you still have,” I point out.
“If you call me on this number you will get an answer machine,” the Doctor throws back.
“Haha you won’t pick up the phone,” I acknowledge the flaws in his argument.
“Yes I still have it,” the Doctor admits. “But there is no roaming service in Russia. So I have a Russian sim card too which I use here. You can have that number if you need it.”
“Nice,” I smile. “You know I won’t call it.”
“Keep it incase,” the Doctor sends me his phone number and a picture of a cat’s backside. Looks a lot like the Wizard of Oz, I think in a flash.
“It is a cat,” I remark. “Why should I keep a picture of your cat?”
“It’s a dog,” the Doctor corrects me once again. “A sausage dog. I mean my phone number. You are funny.”
“It is a scraggly cat,” I exclaim adamantly.
“He is upset you called him a cat,” the Doctor booms as he sends me another picture of the Wizard cat now looking surprisingly much like a dog.
“Oh it is a dog,” I exclaim as I examine the picture. How can a Wizard cat turn into a dog and still look the same? The logic behind this beats me.
“Yes a very silly dog,” the Doctor smiles mysteriously. “He thinks he is human. How’s work? How’s the au-pair settling in?”
“The au-pair is fantastic,” I answer happy to be on a lighter subject. “Work? What work? Do you think I should be worried about Winston touching other boys? Where did that come from and why? Is this a normal pre-puberty boy thing or is there something else going on? It is more than funny that David hates the hockey, then Winston has problems with his hockey team, and now he wants to stop hockey to do karate with David. That sounds like pressure and pleasing. Or paranoia”
“Honey I don’t know the answers to your questions,” the Doctor looks at me surprised at this turn of events in our conversation. “Fathers can play a big roll in a boy’s life. So karate or hockey? Go with karate and make it David’s problem. Pick up and drop off. Playing with other boys’ penis could be a problem. Then again if he learns it’s not something to do might keep him straight. They say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Maybe he has some of David’s weird tendencies. He needs to be assessed for autism. Then you will know.”
“He might be gay, you mean?” I suddenly stop still in my tracks.
So many questions racing through my mind. How does personality form? How does puberty influence the rest of a child’s life? How to mould and create healthy adults? My boy is my sunshine, no matter what he does or who he is. Save that thought for now.