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Libby first became aware of the stalker the first night she moved into the new apartment.
She walked out to get something she had left in the car, and noticed the movement, as he scuttled away from the windows
where he had been standing in the open.
She felt uneasy as she realised someone could stand there at the window, which backed into scrub, and watch her quite
easily. She wondered whether she should get a dog, but her lifestyle would not permit such a luxury. She would have to mention
it to David, and just take care.
The next incident was when she was in the library, and ran out in a hurry when she realised she should be meeting someone,
and almost collided with the figure, that far too quickly vanished into the aisles. The sudden exit made her uneasy as she
felt a normal person should have either yelled at her for not looking, or stayed and accepted her apology.
She was quite thoughtful when the calls started to come.
At first they were just empty calls, and then the person on the other end of the line stayed on longer and longer. Soon
she became too scared to pick up the phone. She was now getting the message clearly, that someone was watching her and following
her every move.
Saturday evening, she lay before the fire, a Martini in a long glass in one hand, a sketching pencil in the
other, and was looking into the fire trancing herself for motivation, when the mobile rang. She picked it up to hear, 'I am
waiting for you my darling...' and a long sigh.
Prickles ran down her back. The calls became more frequent. and in desperation she took her story to the local Police Station.,
where the Sergeant in charge simply laughed at her for her fantastic imagination.
In the middle of all this drama her best friend was killed in a car accident, and when she went to the service, and bent
over the open coffin to say a last word, Mary was holding a note which said, "Till you lie here with me, I will always be
by your side" and it had her name on the top.
Almost shrieking, she moved away from the coffin and regained her seat, but all through the service she felt the eyes on
her, and somehow knew he was in the congregation, and that he knew she knew he was there.
The police promised to keep an eye on the property, and sometimes she felt safe, and other times the old terror would creep
on her.
Then one night, she got a call that she would never forget. "I am getting very hungry for you my darling, and I will kill
again to be at your side."
When Serena died, from a disease she had suffered from for a long time, Libby did not give it another thought,
and buying some white lilies went to the funeral. As she bent to place the flowers in the display, the note was there attached
to a single white rose. " I knew you would come and I have waited for you. Soon you will be mine"
She almost lost her cool then, and dropping the flowers over the note, she hurriedly left the church and did not even stay
for the service.
She was back at the Police station sobbing her story, and this time a female Sergeant was more sympathetic. They agreed
to put a guard on her for a week and keep her watched.
The week went by uneventfully, except for Libby getting paranoid if a leaf moved, and once when the neighbours cat rushed
past her, she nearly screamed herself ill.
It was late that same evening, when she realised someone was in the room with her, and shrieking wildly, she ran
outside and went to the house next door, where they took her to the hospital and gave her tranquilizers.
Six weeks later, when Libby had almost forgotten about the stalker, the call came from the Police. She was required to
go to the Station to meet with the Superintendent.
Surprised and worried, she went to the meeting to be told that Harvey White, a notorious rapist was now in Jail under
custody, and had requested that she be his only contact with the world. Criminals like Harvey were in solitary,
and were allowed only one person to write to for the term of their confinement, and he had written her name in the book.
"But I do not know him," said Libby quite surprised.
"As a matter of fact you do," was the surprising reply. "He says he was a customer of yours from the time you first worked
in the shop, and now the Gallery".
Libby's mind immediately went to the shop and how friendly and pleasant she always was to everyone who came in there.
She was very popular with the customers, and the owners were disappointed when she started her own Gallery, and had to
stop working for them.
"And, he seems to know you very well. His room was full of pictures of you and he has a filing cabinet full of all sorts
of details and you took up a whole drawer. He is in fact quite obsessed with you, to the point of being a danger.I have to
tell you this for your own interest and safety. What you choose to do is your decision."
"Is he the Stalker?" she finally asked.
"We do not know," was the reply. "He was convicted for the murder of his latest live-in partner, a girl called Maisie.
Her funeral is tomorrow at Springvale, but our boy won't be going anywhere for a very long time."
"Well, I certainly do not know him, and I do not even want to, " replied Libby.
"He will not have anyone else to communicate with. He says he only knows you. I have to tell you that writing to him will
help his rehabilitation, but the decision is, I repeat, totally yours. Will you let him write to you?"
"No, I cannot allow that. I have a son and I have a life, and I am also alone. There is no way I would even let anyone
like that into my life. I am appalled and horrified that this is happening. Please, do not ask me to write to him."
"Very well. If that is your decision I will let the Prison know. It is the right decision. Guys like Harvey are really
sick, and I am pleased you made that decision. I thank you for coming," and he showed her to the door where a policeman
was waiting to let her out of the building.
That was not to be the end of the matter. Twice more they called. The final call was from the Prison Psychologist who said
that Harvey was suffering very badly from his confinement, and needed contact with someone he could relate to. He pleaded
with Libby to allow the prisonner to talk with her so they could help him. He felt it would help his patient and would allow
him to see more into the reasons for what he had done. He almost begged Libby to let Harvey write to her.
Libby was utterly appalled. She viewed the Psychologist with utmost horror.
" You are saying his rehabilitation depends on me. That is so unfair and so wrong. I do not know this man except as a customer.
I do not wish to know this man, and it is not my responsibility to be concerned for him and I have no sympathy at all for
what he has done. I am sorry, but I have my life and I have enough on my plate as it is. Please do not ask this of me
again."
That was the last she heard of Harvey for a few months.
Then the stalking began again, and with it came a call from the Superintendant.
"The authorities have decided that it is necessary that you should be told that Herbie White has been released for good
behaviour".
"Why are you telling me this?" asked Libby.
" He was obsessed with you the whole time he was here, and now he is out, there is a chance he may try and contact you
again. We are warning you for your own safety."
"Thank you, " said Libby, as she slowly hung up the phone and the old feelings of being out of control came
flowing and pouring over her again.
Would it ever cease?
Why is this man doing this to her, and why her????
She was concerned about her son and her friends, and decided she needed a new life. She advertised the business for sale,
and started looking for new premises. Her bedroom high up on the rooftop, did not look so safe anymore. She made sure everything
was secure and installed a burglar system for added security.
Libby stood by the balcony she loved and gazed out into the night.
Suddenly she shivered.
"What if someone was watching me?", she thought, and drew back into the small room she had as a bedroom.
Since Matt had moved back to live with her she no longer had a living area, and suddenly the confines of the small apartment
above the Gallery seemed somehow sinister.