THE STALKER By Henry Miles

t was a laugh when they said Dorothy up the office had taken a shine to me but
as a paunchy unattached middle aged bloke I was flattered. The younger lads who
thought everybody over forty should be in a rocking chair thought it hilarious.
There was something in it though, whenever I went up to the office she would
appear with a big smile and be eager for a chat If I was in a meeting with the Boss
she would arrive with coffee and biscuits,even the Boss would pass comment
“Don‘t normally get this treatment Dorothy must be someone important here“
She would smile defensively

“Just helping out, everybody’s busy at the moment”

Sometimes I would run into her in town and we would go for a coffee, she looked
different away from work, in the office she would wear minimal make up and dress
plain and business like, away from work she wore heavier make up and would be
fashionably dressed, high heels, dark stockings. Over forty maybe, not as slim as
she once was perhaps, nonetheless a very attractive woman.

I began thinking about her in the way that a bloke thinks about a woman he is
physically attracted to, I would find excuses to visit the office.EventualIy I plucked up
the courage to ask her out and although she didn’t hesitate to say yes, I detected a
note of apprehension in her voice.

We went out a couple of times to the local ‘Chinese’ and both times they ended with her leaving about ten o’clock in a pre. ordered cab, she would insist on paying her share of the bill, I would get a peck on the cheek and off she would go. Not the results I’d been hoping for, but I enjoyed her company and hope springs eternal.

As I came out of the restaurant after the second date I noticed a hooded character
across the road loitering in a shop doorway but thought little of it. Boosted by the
wine, I set off for home at a pace, ten minutes later I was at the door of my
apartment rummaging for the key.I glanced back towards the street corner and was
surprised to see what looked like the same hooded person standing there
apparently watching me. It was late, there was no one around I considered shouting
out to ask what he wanted but thinking better of it I went in and bolted the door. I
was puzzled was he following me, or was he waiting to meet someone? I peered
through the gap in the curtains to see if he was still there but he’d gone.

In the morning I found a note on the front door mat, written in thick red pen were the
words ‘fat pig‘. I was shaken I’d read about stalking and such like but had never met
anyone who’d experienced it, and I had no idea how to deal with it.
I checked my email and mobile accounts there was nothing in them. I didn’t discuss
it with it anyone which I now realise was a mistake but after a few days passed
without further incident I put it aside as one of those weird things.

My interest in Dorothy continued and judging by the knowing smirks that were
exchanged by the staff when I would arrive on yet another unecessary visit to the
office, it was common knowledge. I suspect it would have been difficult by then to
convince anyone that Dorothy and I were not already sharing a bed and forever
hopeful I invited her back to my place promising her that I could cook spaghetti
bolognese better than you could get in any Italian restaurant,l’m pretty sure she
didn’t believe me but it did the trick.The following evening I was preparing my culinary masterpiece when the door bell sounded, she was early, tea towel in hand I opened the front door, but it was him the hoodie, with hatred in his eyes he screamed at me

“stay away from her you fat pig”

I spotted the spray can in his hand and retreated holding the towel over my face he
sprayed wildly, fortunately I had my glasses on I could feel the burning on my
hands and the top of my head,desperately I shouted for help fearful that he was
going to kill me.

He stopped, I backed away towards the kitchen thinking that I might be able to grab
a knife or hot pan, but he didn’t advance beyond the front door.

“Stay away from Dorothy or next time I’ll blind you”

With that he turned to make off down the path, my hands were burning like hell as
was the top of my head. My fear now turned into to outrage and bellowing a
catalogue of obscenities I charged out of the front door and launched myself at his
back I was surprised how easy it was to bring him down, the way he was dressed
was deceptive he was actually lightweight and slightly built, no match for my thirteen
stone, he made no attempt to resist, when I turned him over to try and aim a blow at
his face he screamed it was then I realised I was about to start beating up a
woman.

Her name was Janet,it turned out she had been stalking Dorothy for more than a
year, ever since Dorothy had rejected her advances and put an end to their
friendshipiThe stuff I got sprayed with was a cleaning agent containing bleach luckily it didn’t get into my eyes, the rest of the damage was superficial. I pressed charges and
Janet was sentenced to two years for Actual Bodily Harm.

I’m sad to say I was unable to prevent the experience placing a blight on my
feelings for Dorothy, the relationship did not progress.
These days it’s spaghetti bolognese for one.

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About highamwriters

A group of recreational creative writers and if you ask us nicely we will let you publish some of our work
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