‘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