I cannot help but wonder if the story I have decided to record here is worth telling. The events that took place seem so insignificant now, that to think they had played such a major part in my current state of mind seems...unlikely. However, I often feel that the only way to fully understand a sequence of events is to document them, turning the account of the Jane Adler Affair into an immortal figure in the minds of whoever wishes to read it. I pray that you, dear reader, will see the person I saw and share my feelings for her. Wherever she is at this moment, my heart is hers, forever and always.
When I first met Jane, I was a rather reserved young fellow, more concerned with my pen and paper than the soft smile of a girl or the lovely tones of her voice. Although the stories I wrote held little importance at the time (mainly due to my age and inexperience), they continue to be the foundation for my writing career. Jane Adler, however, was a spontaneous lady and the daughter of a preacher. The mere fact that we had any kind of relationship remains a mystery as Miss Adler was more the kind of feminine figure that I ignored or avoided, let alone pursued. However, pure chance had brought the two of us together and for what seemed like a lifetime, we were inseparable, that is, until my parents intervened and the preacher was forced to move from our town.
I accompanied my parents to church every Sunday, although the trip was entirely against my will. It was not that I did not believe in God, but simply because the town held a firm gossip policy that started first at the Church and then ran down into the streets. I detested the constant talk of the town’s people and their two-faced way of looking at one another’s problems. I am aware that this is not a very sound reason for my absence from the Church, or my reluctance to partake in its rituals, but it seemed a perfectly good excuse at the time. It was here that I first met Jane Adler and felt the caress of her gaze. The first time I saw her, I was swept from this world and, perhaps for the only time, to the place that the Church promised it would send me.
Jane Adler had short, jet black hair. Her eyes were a mixture of dark green and blue, although latter was more dominant. She was moderately attractive, like most girls who are neither constantly pursued nor completely ignored. We were the same age, although we were much older when we decided to have a relationship. The decision came when I asked her to dine with me one evening. After getting the approval of her father, she agreed and the two of us were “tied at the hip” from that moment on. We spent days together, walking the silent streets of our town, talking about things that love speaks of when he is in the company of another. For six months we spoke only of each other and only to one another.
My parents were both part of the higher society of the town, due to their wealth and bloodlines. My father owned several factories which supplied spices and herbs to the local merchants. My mother, who had been a governess once, left her job once she married my father and hadn’t taken one up since. They held lavish parties for their high class friends and detested the “plebs” who worked at the factories. Jane’s father, the preacher, was also an employee of my father, making food in one of the cafeterias. It is for this reason that the first few months of my and Jane’s relationship was a secret. But my mother saw us walking together one day, holding hands and soon there was constant fighting in our house. I was a disrespectful teenager and Jane was the daughter of a poor man. They said it wouldn’t work.
I was forbidden from seeing Jane Adler after having seen her every day for half a year. I wrote letters that were never delivered and said prayers that were never heard. My father, perhaps seeing the million pieces into which my heart had shattered, told me that if Jane and I got back together after I had left the house then obviously it was fated for us to be together. But alas, it is with a heavy heart that I say that Jane Adler and I never saw one another again. Her father had been relieved of his duties, both at the church and at the factory. Shortly afterwards, the Adler family packed up their things and left our town, never to return again.
I heard stories of Jane Adler: how she married after leaving her father’s house; of the daughter she had at a young age; how her husband stuck the barrel of his handgun in his mouth and made her a widow; how her daughter, Lucy King, became a famous dancer. As for myself, I wrote one book and gave it the title: The Jane Adler Affair. The book was a bestseller by the time I booked myself into the mental hospital where I have lived for the past three years, listening to the howls of madmen and murderers. You may be wondering why I did this and here is the answer: it broke my mother’s heart, as she had done mine, and ruined my father’s reputation among the elite high class society of the town. Jane Adler will always remain my first and last true love and that is all that matters to me.
In South Africa today security plays a vital part in any business or private home. This book and the volumes to follow, will guide you step by step through the essential precautionary measures to be taken in protecting your family and valuables. From employing security guards, evacuation of your site and security measures to burglar bars and alarms in your private home.
a Book compiled by me from experience gained after 10 years in the security industry as Industrial relations officer with Nosa qualifications, 1st Aid, fire protection and also S.O.B. grade A.
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