Lisa Stone - Stalker

‘I know that man!’ she said, pointing. ‘It’s Paul Mellows. He came to our house to fit our CCTV. He’s been dating my sister.’

And the horror and deception played on her would stay with Nicole and her family forever.

One month later, Derek sat propped up on a mound of pillows in his hospital bed while his mother sat in the chair beside him peeling an orange. Both his hands, feet and head were heavily bandaged, but after a week in intensive care and massive doses of intravenous antibiotics he was in a ward and finally starting to recover.

‘Are you sure you won’t have to go to prison?’ his mother asked, not for the first time, her face growing serious again.

He stifled a sigh. ‘No, Mum, I’ve already explained. I’ll be cautioned but I won’t be given a custodial sentence. I did wrong watching those people but I didn’t actually harm anyone as the police now know. And what they’ve found on my computer together with what I’ve told them can be used as evidence against Mellows and his accomplices. Some very nasty people will be locked up for a long time.’

‘Good,’ she said, popping a segment of orange into his mouth. She waited while he ate it. ‘But you won’t do any more spying on people, will you?’

‘No, I promise.’ He chewed and swallowed. ‘No more surveillance. I’ll leave them to make their own mistakes. Lying in hospital has given me plenty of time to think. I’ve been given another chance and I intend to use it. Your sister was right when she said we needed to get out more. Once I’m well enough I think we should go away for a few days.’

Elsie Flint’s face lit up. ‘Yes. We could go to Broadstairs. My sister goes there and she says it’s really nice. I’ll ask her for the address of the guest house where she stays. It’s right on the sea front. The sea air will do you good. We might even paddle in the water.’ She chuckled and then looked at the small television suspended over his bed. It was nearly 1pm. She needed to keep an eye on the time.

The television had originally been for her benefit so she could keep up with the soaps during the many hours she’d spent by her son’s bed when he’d been too weak to talk. But lately Derek had become nearly as involved in the plots – the ups and downs of people’s lives – as she was. Like mother like son, he’d said which had pleased her immensely.

However, today it wasn’t the soaps she was interested in but the local news.

At exactly one o’clock as the theme tune for the news began, she pressed the button to raise the volume. The main news headlines came on in brief, followed by the local news. The first item was about a house fire; thankfully, everyone had been rescued.

‘I hope you won’t mind, Derek,’ she said, ‘but I had to set the record straight.’

He looked at her questioningly but her attention was on the screen.

Derek watched open-mouthed and incredulous as an image of his house filled the screen. The reporter his mother had previously spoken to was walking up their front path.

‘In an amazing turn of events,’ she began, ‘local man, Derek Flint, has gone from being vilified, accused of a number of heinous crimes to becoming our local hero. Derek is now recovering in hospital after a shocking ordeal when he was held captive and repeatedly beaten by his captors. But his selflessness and bravery have saved a young girl from being raped and possibly saved her life. His mother, Mrs Flint, has asked to speak to us and has a heartfelt message.’

‘It was recorded earlier,’ Elsie said to Derek, glancing nervously at her son.

The camera went to his mother, standing outside their front door, which looked as though it had been given another coat of paint. With her shoulders drawn back and standing tall, she was looking very smart in a dress he’d never seen before. He watched with a mixture of awe and apprehension. What was she going to say?

‘I’m not allowed to talk about the actual case,’ she began, addressing the camera in a steady, confident voice, ‘because it hasn’t gone to court yet and it could jeopardize the outcome. But I want you all to know how proud I am of my son, Derek. I haven’t been the best mother in the world and I was far too quick to believe bad against him. That was very wrong of me.’ She paused and took a breath.

‘I should have had more faith in my son and known he would always do the right thing. He has looked after me for many years since my husband left and has never once complained. Recently he went through a dreadful ordeal when he nearly died. He showed incredible courage and was able to give the police the information they needed to save the young girl. She can’t be named for legal reasons but I’m sure what he did, his bravery, will be revealed in court. I am sorry I ever doubted my son and I want you all to know how proud I am of him. It’s never too late to say sorry, and I am.’

As the reporter wound up Derek turned to his mother, tears in his eyes. ‘Thank you, Mum, that was nice of you.’

‘No need to thank me. It’s true. You are a good son. I just didn’t appreciate you, but it will be different in the future.’

‘Likewise.’

Sixty miles away, Jackson Clark sat in his bedroom in his mother’s flat, bored and disaffected. Fed up with the homework he was supposed to be doing and fed up with life in general. His only interest, indeed his passion, was in computer programming. He loved working with HTML, Javascript, Linux and all the other languages of the world of programming and the Internet. One day he’d make a name for himself like the founders of Facebook and Twitter. He could picture himself as the next Zuckerberg.

Jackson would be the first to admit he didn’t have friends in the real world. He’d never found the key to instigating and maintaining friendship and had more or less given up. Other fifteen-year-olds wanted to talk about girls, football and fast cars, of which he knew little and cared even less. Similarly, they failed to share his passion for coding and referred to him as the geek or the nerd. His online friends were very different. Although he’d never met them, they understood and shared his devotion and excitement in the power of coding.

With them he could be himself.

Jackson picked up his pen, wrote one more sentence in his English essay, then, closing the book, pushed it to one side. Seven-thirty; his mother wouldn’t be back for at least another hour. She always came up to check on the progress of his homework when she returned from work. She wanted him to do well, for her life had been a struggle, and was probably even duller than his. As a single parent, she had two jobs to make ends meet, serving in a shop during the day and cleaning offices at night. She knew he wanted a career in programming and had saved up to buy him a decent laptop for which he should have been grateful. But the knowledge that she’d slaved away serving disrespectful customers and cleaning up other people’s mess had taken the edge off it. He’d make it up to her one day for sure.

Seated at the small desk she’d bought for him as a child, he opened his laptop and logged in. Immediately he felt his spirits lift and the angst and tedium of the day fall away.

This was his world, where the online community he was part of were all computer geeks or nerds like himself. They talked online not only about coding – sharing their stories, tips, experiences and achievements – but also a little about their personal lives. They were a brotherhood, although some of them were female, a secret online community united in their desire to take coding to its limits. So competent were they at breaking code that they popped in and out of most secure websites as if visiting a neighbour. Yet even this was starting to bore Jackson. He knew so much that it was rare to find any new challenges or surprises.