The first piece of paper that stood out to me was one sheet. On it was four columns written in pencil. Perhaps not writing in pen gave him the opportunity to erase his words. However, I must’ve found it before he could.
The paper read something like this:
Week Ending 16 Nov/23 Nov 27/11/02 – cheque £176.25
” ” 30 Nov 29/11/02 £92.71
” ” 7 Dec 5/12/02 £92.71
The list carried on until 14/01/03 where the final transaction he had noted down was a bank transfer.
I had saved a vital piece of what I always knew he was doing. Those times where he would leave my opened bank statements outside my bedroom door apologising for accidentally opening them himself. All along, he was noting down the activity on my accounts. He was saving his sordid records and following my life with vengeance. Why and how could my money matters mean so much to him? This list and the dates suggest I was twenty years old. I was still studying and not earning. I wasn’t hiding anything from him but his suspicious nature would always control the way he behaved.
He never treated me as his daughter even though he constantly raved about trust.
But does this seem like trust? How could he betray me so badly? My personal life was not mine. He needed to know it all.
I was angry when I discovered this. It had taken the betrayal further. I knew he was monitoring my money but I was unaware he was taking notes too.
It’s pathetic really.