Stalker (2 page)

Reception closed at 8 pm tonight. So she was on her own in the studio. An easy target and feeling a bit vulnerable, even when Max looked in on his rounds. Always shoved a bit of cardboard with a squiggle under her studio door, to prove he’d been there, even when he spoke to her too. Max was a creature of habit.

‘Hate to be in here on my own, Girlie,’ he said the last time. That made her feel SO brave!

‘Thanks for your view on Friday 13th William. A request for “MidnightFunk” and onto the hot goss. next.’

Lily killed William’s ramblings. Obviously, he wasn’t the stalker. But the next caller could be.

Was it only a fortnight? Could so many things go wrongs quickly? She never used to be accident-prone nor forget so many things. Like getting dates and times wrong. Mucking up appointments. Losing her keys. Misplacing messages. It had taken a few days to realise that it wasn’t co-incidence. Someone was orchestrating her life to make annoying things happen. But what made it worse was that the annoying had turned into the downright dangerous.

She was being stalked. And she didn’t know why.

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At first I thought Lily was like her name. Her voice was sort of white-blonde and slim. Her voice was perfect. I imagined that she looked like that too. On air, she had some strong views… not radical feminist… just independent… feisty almost. That’s what I liked.

I used to listen to her in my car. Then I started recording her, so I could listen again, when she was off-air. The graveyard shift, they call it. Great music she chooses, and I even like the hot goss. Although that Y from Cult is a worry. I don’t think it’s right for her to play him so much, especially with the things he says about God helping him. Religion deserves respect.

I knew she must start work a little while before she goes on air. So I parked near the radio station. She didn’t even know I was watching. I started looking for a girl who looked like her voice. After 11 pm not that many go into the studio, so I wasn’t sure because none looked like her…

blonde and slim.

And I wasn’t certain if Lily was her real name. She’s a celeb, sort of and like rock stars and that… celebs often have stage names. Then I worked out that maybe her first name was her real name and that only the second name had been changed for radio. She used ‘Lily’ so easily, it must have been real. And her initials were LN on her pigeon hole at the studio. It’s easy to slip past, like a real volunteer, and wander around.

I’m not stupid. I know studios don’t give out the phone number or addresses of their stars. So I made up the questionnaire. Pretended I was doing a survey… favourite colours that sort of thing… and she filled it in. So she must have wanted to tell me.

Flashback: Stalkee

After last Wednesday’s lecture, she and Jamie had a coffee in the uni café. He’d already done some checking for her, since her call that morning. . Once Lily told him about being stalked, he read a bit, and by 3 o’clock was an expert. Jamie was like that, full on, like a dentist’s drill touching the nerve, moving away, and then coming back.

As she stirred the cappuccino froth, Lily had the feeling that Jamie was enjoying the challenge of stalking her stalker. But who else could she ask to help?

‘I’ll tell you all about stalking,’ said Jamie, pushing back his pebble ‘specs. His head looked like a manic lawnmower had left criss-cross tracks where hair used to be. ‘Just listen Lily.’

Jamie was a ‘know-it-all’, and the annoying thing was that he usually did know about odd things as well as ordinary stuff. He loved making up the on-air quizzes and got a bit upset when people complained the questions were too hard.

‘A stalker plays on your fears….’ Jamie was doing psych. ‘Rats and Stats’ he called it.

‘What fears? I’m pretty ordinary. I’m not a nut case. Would I agree to work the graveyard shift here if I was a wuss? Just because some weirdo wants to spook me, there’s nothing wrong with my head. Give me one good reason why I should give in … and creep around, looking over my shoulder…,’ Lily felt so annoyed that the words spewed out.

‘Because you were scared enough by what happened last night for us to be talking about it now. Really pumped! So tell me what actually happened. Everything!’ Jamie insisted.

So Lily did, mainly because she knew that by Friday night, she was due back in the studio, and that weekend was Jamie’s swot vac. So she’d be alone on the graveyard shift unless she asked for another panel operator to be organised for the shift. And volunteers for the graveyard shift were in short supply.

‘Last night I went to ‘Lights’. You know, that new night club on Station Street. ‘

‘So…,’ Jamie prompted.

‘We were dancing and a stranger came up and said, “Do you really mean it… ?”
I said, “What?”

‘And he pointed to my shirt. Written on it was I’M LILY. FUCK ME NOW. I’M A CELEB. ON HOT AIR ’

But it only showed under the ultra-violet lights… in the night club.’ added Lily.

‘How could someone write that on you without you knowing?’ asked Jamie.

‘You tell me,’ Lily replied.

‘You’d feel a pen wouldn’t you? On your back…?’ Jamie enjoyed puzzles.

‘The writing was on the front of my shirt.’

‘So….’

‘So it was done when I wasn’t in it, idiot!’ Lily expected Jamie to think faster than that!

‘You mean someone wrote on your t-shirt with an ultra violet pen…when it was hanging on the line… or in the drier?’ Jamie raised his eyebrows questioningly.

‘Or hanging in my wardrobe… Maybe at the laundromat, but usually I sit in front of the machine and read a magazine. I would have noticed if it was there. So it must have been at home…’ Lily nodded slowly. ‘That’s what I’m beginning to think. Someone has been getting into my place… and out again… and I didn’t even realise. It’s not just this shirt….’

‘Is anything else missing or scribbled on?’ Jamie took notes.

‘I’m not sure.’ Lily was seriously messy at home, but not in the studio. ‘Nothing really important. Or I would have missed it. But there could be something gone… that I don’t use a lot.’

‘Such as?’ Light bounced off Jamie’s pebble glasses as he looked up at her.

“How do I know…’ Lily’s voice was getting higher. ‘Back off Jamie. You’re supposed to be helping… not making me feel worse.’

That last comment Jamie ignored, his mind was on fast track, clue-mode.

‘Only shows up under ultra violet… is the night club the first place you’ve been that there’s ultra violet light?’ Absent-mindedly, Jamie, ran his hand through his remaining hair. ‘How many places use it?’

Lily stuck up her fingers and counted…. ‘Night clubs…sun-tanning parlours…. I’ve been asking around.”

‘D’you go there? ‘Jamie asked.

‘No… would I look this pale if I did?’ Lily had pale skin with blotchy freckles. Even make-up didn’t hide them.

‘Anywhere else? Someone who plays with words. That “hot air” bit is clever. Not your average yob
. So how would anyone know you’d go to the night club last night?” quizzed Jamie.

‘Perhaps he didn’t.’ Lily fiddled with her watch-band. It was loose on her wrist, but nothing else was loose. Nerves made her eat. ‘Perhaps it was written days… or weeks ago… and he’s been waiting for me to wear it… and in a place where it could be read.’

‘What about Genevieve? Has she got anything written on her clothes?’

Lily shook her head. ‘Not that I know of. Everyone would know if she did.’

‘Yeah, you’d need ear-plugs,’ said Jamie who’d met Genevieve twice. ‘D’you reckon you guys will make it to the next month’s rent payment?’

‘Probably. Shift work helps. We’re not there much together.’

‘Flatmate-from-hell?’

“Mmm,’ you had to be loyal, sort of. Anyway, Lily couldn’t afford the rent by herself.

‘Does Genevieve do her share of the shit jobs?’

‘No.’

‘Still, if it gets too bad, couldn’t you move into your parents’ place while they’re away? Or is your brother there?’

‘No. They’ve got a house-sitter for the six months. And Ben’s got a live-in job, with Anita his girlfriend.’

Within two days of Genevieve moving in, Lily realised they wouldn’t get on. Especially after the ‘house-warming riot’ when neighbours called the police. But she wasn’t going to tell her parents that it wasn’t working out. And since they weren’t around to see….

‘Think back,’ Jamie was serious now. ‘When did you last wear that green t-shirt?’

‘Tuesday week ago. Night club clothes are a bit more dressed up than everyday. So I wear that shirt a bit at night. Or in photos…. So I wear it for head and shoulder shots. Green’s my favourite colour… I even put that down in the fans’ questionnaire the other day….’

‘What questionnaire? I didn’t get one. Who’s been asking personal questions? What for?’ Jamie stopped doodling. ‘Stay here. I’ll just ring the station and check on something.’

Jamie had one of those minds which remembered phone numbers, so he left his books and even his diary with her. The uni café was getting crowded, so she had to spread out to save Jamie’s seat. He was back a few minutes later. ‘No questionnaires sent to any other presenters last week. Just you. You’re it! Sounds sus. to me. As if someone is compiling data, like a dossier on you’

‘Why?’

Jamie shrugged. ‘Dunno, yet.’

This caffeine hit wasn’t enough. Lily felt tiredness overwhelm her. At the slightest sound, even the cat on the veranda, she’d wake, instantly. Then it was hard to get back to sleep. Her mind would go round and around, trying to remember someone she’d missed. Who could be doing this? Why? The word ‘why?’ started going around her brain.

It was so PLANNED! That t-shirt could have been written on weeks before, and she hadn’t even known. It was a big shirt, so she still fit into it. What if the stalker had scribbled on one of her smaller t-shirts and she didn’t use that shirt because it no longer fit? A little smile crept around Lily’s lips. Wasted effort! A failed stalker? But unfortunately he wasn’t failing. He was succeeding in this invisible control. Invisible insults waiting to hit. Waves of panic engulfing her at odd times. Well, she wasn’t going to give in, and go off-air.

‘Maybe some of your other stuff is marked, and you haven’t seen it in the light yet?’ suggested Jamie.

Maybe the smaller tops, thought Lily, but what she said was,

‘So? D’you reckon 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?