Loneliness Trilogy Bundle Boxset (18 page)
When we return to England from our holiday in Spain, we think the stalking situation has been dealt with by the police. We’re living our life as normal, looking at new homes to buy in a frantic hurry. The first home we wanted already had an offer on it that the seller took. We were back to square one in finding a new home. One morning, I’m going back into our flat after tossing our bagged rubbish into the bin. It is blistering cold, so I wrap my coat around me and look around. I spot the same squat, overweight girl standing across the street, just staring at our flat. I don’t want her to know I’ve just spotted her, so I wrap my arms around my chilled body - in truth, I’m chilled, both from the cold and from the fear I’m feeling. I hurry inside and upstairs, where I alert Marcus.
He peeks through the window sheers, trying not to be spotted. When he sees her staring right at our front window, he backs up fast, turning ghastly pale. He scoops up his phone and calls his dad, letting him know what’s going on.
The two of them decide that the three of us will stay elsewhere until we know we’ve got the house we’ve offered on. That afternoon, we pack our immediate necessities and both of our dads help to get us moved to Marcus’ dad’s property. Because we don’t want that girl to know that I spotted her, we wait until it’s totally dark to get everything moved over. Fortunately, the flats where we live have got a fence with a back gate and entrance, so we move everything into trucks that way.
We move all of the baby’s things, all my music and equipment and Marcus’ research, books, router, modem and computers. After we get all our necessities settled, we decide we’d better move all our furniture as if we’re officially moving house - Marcus’ dad spots her when he’s coming out from our flat. She came back! Of course, we call the police and they talk to her. Once they talk to us, we learn her name is Cara Wells. They warn her that what she’s doing is officially considered to be stalking - and, if she doesn’t stop stalking Marcus, she’ll be arrested and charged with the crime. We learn that she took serious offense to the warning, but at least she left. Even so, I am sufficiently scared that the thought of unpacking and moving into a different home pales in comparison to my husband being stalked.
This situation with Cara has all of us, including my band mates, on edge. Marcus decides he’s going to bring me to all my practices and drop me off. This new arrangement works for several weeks - until he calls me one afternoon, shortly before he’s supposed to pick me up.
“Johanna, I’ve just spotted that Cara following me. I’m on my way to pick you up,” Marcus says. I can hear the upset in his voice.
“Wait! Stop in a shop parking lot and I’ll call the police right now. I don’t want her to see where we practice - and I don’t want her to know about Lizzie!”
“Good thought. Okay, I’m in that Ikea shop lot just a few kilometers away from the studio. I’ve got the doors locked and I’m staying here until the police show up.”
I report this newest wrinkle to the police, who meet Marcus at the Ikea. They get a rough description of the car Cara is driving. Thankfully, the police have kept records of each of our calls and complaints. They are obviously aware that this is an ongoing situation, so they seem to take the threat seriously. But when they come back to the store after a lengthy search, they have only bad news to report - she’s gone. And without a license plate, they can’t track her to her home or work.
Marcus comes the rest of the way to the studio once he’s been informed that Cara has eluded the police. After he picks me up, we try to relax in Marcus’ dad’s home. I have a very hard time staying put because I keep remembering Cara’s odd-looking friend. Marcus asks me why I’m so antsy, and when I tell him about Mohawk Girl, he agrees that we do need to be careful about each other and Lizzie until both girls have been dealt with. After we agree on this, I feel marginally better. I sit on our couch, cuddling the baby, just wanting to be close to her.
The boys come to our new home and we have a meeting about what’s been happening. As it turns out, Laslow is a veritable font of information about Cara Wells. Apparently, Cara went to school with Marcus and developed quite a big crush on him. Marcus thinks back, but he’s unable to remember her, even when he looks through old school yearbooks. This means that Cara’s crush is obviously unrequited. Still, she managed to track him down to our old flat and she started following him around. We live in Saint Albans, which is just a suburb of London. It isn’t a tiny town, but it’s a small-enough that, if someone is determined enough, they can track someone else down.
Okay, I’m done theorizing about this - I am seriously spooked! First, she remembered Marcus for all these years. On that, I can’t exactly blame her. If he’s this good-looking now, how did he look as a school boy? What spooks me is when I wonder how she found out where he lives now and what his schedule is! When I think of our little girl, I am hit with severe nausea. I run to the loo, where I am desperately, horribly sick. I come out after several minutes, sweating and pale. Marcus takes one look at me and immediately heats water for some tea.
I sit down and listen as the boys and Marcus discuss ways of throwing Cara off our trail. We can’t live in the studio full-time, but I suggest it anyway. Short of building tall brick walls around our current location and our car, there’s not much we can do. We come up with very few ideas. I sip slowly at my tea, wondering what, if anything, we can do.
The next few weeks are nerve-wracking. The police call to inform us that no progress has been made on finding Cara Wells. They filed a restraining order, but her address on file turned up to be abandoned. We assume she must be staying with the Mohawk Girl, but the police hadn’t gotten her name at the concert. Marcus and I sneak back into our flat at night to take our Christmas decorations down - we need to make it look like we’re still living there. Every time we’re out and about, I’m obsessively checking the wing mirrors to see if she or her friend are following us.
One day, I’m in at Saint Albans Grocery, buying groceries we need. I have Lizzie loaded in a baby-snuggler tied around me. I’m pushing my cart of groceries back to the car. It’s now a habit for me to look everywhere when I go inside or go back outside in public. I spot Cara when I’m leaving the market. I immediately go back into the store, cart and all. I tell the store manager what’s happening, then I call the police. While I’m waiting for them to show, I remember - I drove Marcus’ car! That’s how she tracked me down! I call Marcus and tell him I’m going to be slightly delayed getting home. I peer out the shop window, looking for the police.
Finally, they show, but Cara has already fled and they are unable to find her. Once I know she’s gone, I load my groceries and Lizzie into the car and drive home - fast. I ignore the speed limits. I just want to be at home and in Marcus’ arms. When I tell him that she tracked me down by looking for his car, he’s not surprised - he’s disgusted, but not surprised.
“Johanna, we need to make an offer on the other house we found. I’m calling the estate agent and put in a bid. I think, if we have a high wall and gate built, we can make ourselves a little safer,” says.
Fortunately, we call on the right day. The estate agent has told us that our bid was accepted and we got the house! We can close on the house in as quick as two weeks! We set up the closing appointment and then we call Marcus’ parents. We tell them how Cara tracked me down at the shop today by looking for Marcus’ car.
“Mum, dad, our bid was accepted to buy an estate in downtown Saint Albans. Obviously, with this nutcase following us all over the place, we need to increase our protection. I’m going to find a contractor to build a high brick wall all around the property, with an automatic gate. In the meantime, what do we do about my car? Should we go ahead and buy a new one?” Marcus asks.
“Simple,” says Marcus’ dad, Gerald. “We do a switch. You use one of our cars and we use yours.”
“Well, Gerald, that takes the heat off of us. But what about when she spots it and you’re driving it?” I ask.
“Again, Jo, that’s a simple solution. We paint it a different color - if Marcus doesn’t mind. We’ll, in effect, make his car disappear. Change the license plate on the boot and, voila! It’s gone.”
Thank God for clear, un-panicked heads! It’s perfect! That week, Marcus and his parents put the car switch into effect. His dad signs the car over to us and we set up the insurance. Dad takes Marcus’ car to a car shop and has it painted a completely different color, then he goes to the motor vehicle office and changes the registration, asking for a different license plate.
I feel a bit better now. We’re in a “new” car and we’re going to move - again. First, Marcus finds a contractor, who agrees to build a wall all round our new property. This won’t be just any wall. It will be ten feet high, with a car entrance on the main road and a secondary one connecting to the small alley behind our back yard. The gates will be electronic, with a keypad and a code required for entry. Marcus and I will be the only ones in possession of that code. Marcus pays quite a down payment, asking the contractor to start on the wall and gate straightaway. Now, I feel more secure. With all of this decided and done, we call a moving company and sign a contract to help us move house yet again.
With all the kerfuffle going on, my mum wants to hold a housewarming party. I’m all for that - until Marcus and Tim remind me that I’m a public figure now. News of the housewarming and our new address will be reported in all the rags, so that idea goes down the tubes.
I’m nearly crying when I have to tell mum we can’t have a party. She is, too. Instead, she suggests that she and my family will bring housewarming gifts - with no party. I’m not a hateful person, generally. I mean, I have my moments of frustration or anger, but in this one, I can honestly say I think I hate this Cara person. She’s ruining what should be one of the happiest moments of our lives, bar Lizzie’s birth.
Finally, the movers come and load all our things. Marcus and I separate out everything we need immediately for Lizzie and store that in our “new” car. It takes us the whole day to move house and, thankfully, the moving guys actually put our furniture where we want it. That means that all Marcus and I have to do is empty boxes, put dishes away and hang things on the walls. Our parents and families follow the moving van in and help us get everything put away. They also bring the gifts they had intended to give us during that housewarming party. After everything is put away, we pick up take away meals and that’s our “housewarming party.” Everyone leaves quietly after Marcus unlocks the back gate.
I do have to admit that I feel much, much safer in our new home. That ten-foot wall with electronic gate goes far toward that feeling. This means that if anyone like Cara or her ilk try to snoop around our property, they’ll have a right difficult time of figuring out which house belongs to the Hadleys. And that’s exactly as I want it.
Once Marcus, Lizzie and I are safely ensconced in our new home, we feed the baby, change her nappy and tuck her into bed for part of the night. She’s still waking for night feedings and will for a while. We sit in the living room, in front of a very comfortable fire and relax. Soon, we’re creating a fire of our own.
Marcus has begun playing my body like a musical instrument. His fingers play over my back, shoulders, breasts and in between my legs. I climb onto his lap and begin unbuttoning his pants and shirt. My fingers make very short work of his belt and soon he’s bare-chested, giving me a much larger playing field. I begin licking and nuzzling his nipples and he lets out a low roar of desire.
Marcus allows his fingers to go wild. He rips my old sweater off over my head and opens my bra, giving him easy access to my tits. Before he goes for them, he lifts me off his lap and feverishly pulls my pants and thong down my hips and legs. He slips his fingers in between my legs once again and begins playing with my clit and pussy. Knowing what’s about to happen, I pull the old afghan from the back of the couch and tell Marcus to stand for a minute. I drop the afghan over the couch and we lie down on it. I play with Marcus’ body and he plays with mine. Soon, we’re both coming. I sob as I come repeatedly - the warmth and shimmering sensations echo the love I feel for this man.
Soon we make our way up to the bedroom. Marcus begins sucking and licking at my clit and I come hard all over again. I kiss and lick my way down his body until I am cupping his balls in my hand and sucking on the tip of his penis. I hear my beloved husband grunting as the sensations multiply inside his beautiful body. We play with each other’s bodies until we both come explosively once more. Exhausted from my day’s efforts, I fall asleep heavily…until I feel Marcus’ hands roaming over my body just a few hours later. We make love yet again, this time, with Marcus buried deep inside me. I don’t have to worry about becoming pregnant again - my midwife recommended a form of contraception that doesn’t affect Lizzie while I’m breast feeding her. I’m thankful for this, because I fully intend to make love to Marcus whenever I can! And I know he intends to do the same with me.