Stalker. Hazel Edwards
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I should go back to the night club and try out all my clothes, one at a time? Like a stripper under the lights! Sort of strip for a graffiti check.’ Lily’s insides felt queasy. Maybe discussing this especially with Jamie, wasn’t such a good idea. He tended to take off and run with a problem, and then it became public because he just had to tell everybody about how good he was at solving things. She should have kept these hassles secret. But at first it had seemed almost like a compliment, to be enough of a ‘celeb’ to be stalked, like the truly famous. Someone thought enough of her, to follow every day.
‘Maybe it’s on things other than your clothes?’ suggested Jamie.
‘Like what?’ For a moment Lily pictured giant scribbles on her roof.
‘I don’t know. The Vomit or something.’
Freaky the way Jamie kept adding things she hadn’t considered. Why would someone write on her car? The Vomit was noticeable already, especially when it broke down.
If she ignored what was happening would it go away? Unlikely.
Jamie continued ‘There’s a special pen. Fluoroscopy. They used it for security marking. Like putting your licence number of electrical goods. Can only be seen under ultra-violet light.’ Radio research was his first hobby before he trained as a panel operator. ‘I looked it up on the Internet. Then I tried the Stalkers’ Home Page. Learnt a lot from there.’
‘How you stalk or be stalked?’ Lily felt that everything was getting away from her. Like changing shapes, things were happening that involved her and she didn’t even know. ‘Are you going to e-mail me an example?’
‘Here’s a print-out. Read it yourself.’ Jamie pulled the roll out of his pocket and pushed the paper towards her.
Lily put down her coffee and flattened the paper. A few splashes seeped through. At least it wasn’t fax paper. That station fax paper always had a dead fish smell. Why was she thinking about paper smells? So she wouldn’t think about HIM.
Deep inside, the fear increased as Lily realised she’d been missing clues. It was all planned. Like a campaign where she was the target. She wasn’t losing her mind; it was just that so many things had been going wrong this week. Someone was using her fear to make her do things, to manipulate her, like a puppet. And she still didn’t know why.
‘You said ‘he’.’ Jamie spoke slowly. ‘How come you think it’s a male? And why only one? Could it be female? And a few of them?’
Lily shrugged. ‘Just a hunch it’s a guy.’
‘Any proof? Like facts?’ Jamie loved collecting facts.
Lily shook her head. ‘Not yet.’
Jamie’s question was disturbing. Why had she assumed it was a male? And one male? Was she being sexist?
‘Harassing,’ said Jamie, scratching his head. ‘Sexual harassing, that’s what it’s called. According to the stats, 70% are male. Usually ex-lovers. Got many of them?’
‘None of your business.’ She wasn’t going to tell Jamie about old boyfriends since there were fewer than he’d expect. Since she’d been on radio regularly, she felt different, more confident, but there still wasn’t anyone special.
‘But, it’s not really harassing.’ She didn’t want to call it that and make it official. Like having to tell the police. No-one was trying to threaten her sexually. It was just as if someone was stopping her from living normally. The How to Drive LilyMad Campaign. Things she counted on, no longer happened. Ordinary stuff. Not being able to find her interview folder that she knew she’d left on the kitchen bench. Next morning, it wasn’t there. How could a green folder walk, unless someone was carrying it? Even the clock in her car was the wrong time. How could it jump two hours like that? An electronic fault? Or something else? Another week, she would have thought it was something to do with the daylight saving change-over. But not this week. And it was TWO hours difference, not one.
‘You’re officially a ‘stalkee, now,’ said Jamie. ‘Hi-profile jobs come with a price.’
‘You’re joking!’ Lily couldn’t stop a laugh. Jamie wanted to think public radio was high profile because he did it, and always considered panel operating more skilful than presenting. ‘I only got the graveyard shift because no-one else wanted it. And you know how hard it is to get another operator for your swot vac. Voluntary doesn’t mean mega bucks, as Genevieve keeps reminding me.’
‘But you are a stalkee,’ Jamie was determined to have the last fact.
Lily laughed, feeling cheered by the silly name. ‘Stalkee sounds like a bean pole, you know… a stalk. Something which sticks out. ‘
‘And that’s what’s happening to you. Someone thinks you stick out.’
warned Jamie. ‘Like a middle-sized poppy. ‘
‘Mmmm.’ She didn’t want her head cut off. Lily felt the studio was no longer special. Glass on two sides had been great at first… she could sign to Jamie and feel part of a working team. Or glance at her reflection, just to check how professional, Lily the presenter, looked. But the red ON-AIR sign warning visitors to keep quiet was no protection against intruders. Her mind was being harassed, not her voice. Those panic waves were swamping again. And she was freaking out. Sort of! Cool it Lily, she told herself.
‘You could be a subject for my thesis,’ suggested Jamie. ‘I’m looking for a topic, and I’ve got to get to my Adv. Behav. tute now. Stalking might be an okay topic.’
‘Thanks, but no thanks. Choose another flower. My name’s Lily, not Poppy.’
Sometimes Jamie went over the top. You know how someone acts casual, pretends something doesn’t matter and then drops words in, so you won’t forget their real job. He was studying ‘Behavioural Modification,’ and was a bit up himself about that. Jamie even listened to the song lyrics on air and commented whether the motives were believable.
‘Motivation is the key,’ said Jamie, getting up from the table.
‘Forget it.’ Lily didn’t want to be a case- study or a police case or a patient who was a doctor‘s case. When she was a kid, she imagined a doctor packing up a patient inside a brown suitcase and carrying it to hospital. Kids had weird ideas. But they weren’t the only ones. Kids’ ideas were sort of clean weird. This seemed dirty weird. No wonder Jamie was intrigued by her stalker’s mind.
‘You mean why he’s doing this? The reason?’ Lily dumped her cup on the trolley labelled DON’T ACT LIKE A PIG, CLEAN UP THE SWILL’.
Trays banged, cutlery crashed and students heading for lectures pushed their way out of the crowded cafe. As Jamie dumped his cup, he said reassuringly, ‘Don’t worry Lily. I’ll read up on Stalkers and let you know what he might do next. Stats wise, they follow a pattern.’
‘Thanks a lot Jamie, but don’t bother. I’ll find out for myself.’ Lily was determined to do something, but she wasn’t sure what.
Fans often left gifts at the station. The Stalker had left her a gift all right: the gift of fear. Like last Friday, at her flat. When the ordinary stuff started going wrong.
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She’ll be leaving the studio soon.I know she’s there I heard her on air. I can switch her on. Or switch her off. I know where she is but she doesn’t know where I am or where I was. That’s the thrill. Her voice floats through the air…. She does the midnight shift. All those lonely ones ring her.…interviews with people not worthy of her attention. How dare they answer her in that way! If she were interviewing me, I’d give much more intelligent answers. Maybe she’ll interview me on air, one day, about my