She stared wildly around the almost empty carpark. Nothing else for it. She’d have to ask Max, and he’d mention it forever. Temporarily, Lily thought about walking home. Leaving the sponsors’ car in the station park, and jogging home. No. She went back inside and rang security. Of course, Max was on duty, again.
‘Got a problem Girlie?’ Did security guards always speak like that, or just Max?
‘Lily’s the name, remember?’ she said. ‘Yes, I can’t get my… er the sponsor’s car started.’
‘Heard about this car. Bit of a trade-off, eh. Going the kickback route? I’ll be down in two secs.’
And he was. He checked the zapper. And her code. ‘Bet they wouldn’t get the security guard to drive it. It wouldn’t look good enough in the photos. Head and shoulder or full length?’
Lily shrugged. PR Face probably wanted all car and no large Lily, especially wearing un co-ordinated student gear. No way would Lily ever look like PR Face, even if she tried, sideways.
‘First time eh? Used to work at one of the commercial studios. They had all the presenters’ photos in the foyer. Don’t do that here do they? Gunna do it with you now you’re getting famous, eh?’
‘Doubt it.’ said Lily. ‘Can you open the door?’
‘Yes. Radio frequencies of car locks can be monitored and changed…’ explained Max ‘Whatever was your electronic lock, someone has deliberately changed. Now you are locked out of your own car.’
‘The sponsor’s car,’ added Lily. The feeling was the same. Being controlled by an electronic unknown. ‘But I’ve only had it about twenty five minutes. I just went inside to catch up on paperwork. Who could have altered the lock in that time?’
‘Someone did, unless you had the combination wrong to start,’ said Max, with one of those smirky smiles. ‘Hadn’t you better check?’
She didn’t want to ‘owe’ him. Lily scrabbled for the business card. A quick call to the PR Face who’d left for the day. That was no use. And her mobile was off too.
Max added ‘If you think someone is having a go at you, we can organise a mobile panic button for you. Has a limited range. Quite effective. We can monitor radio frequencies. Did that for some of the commercial presenters who were being stalked by nutters. But Management didn’t want us to talk about it.’
But he was, thought Lily.
And he was talking about HER life. Not just an electronics problem. A challenge for locks.
‘No thanks. I’ll manage. Just open it for me, now.’
At last, they got it started. She wished Max would go inside. But he stood there watching as she turned the wheel, tried to back out and had to go forward again. Until she got the Red Peril out of the carpark and onto the road, Lily was nervous. Then she started enjoying the throb of the engine. At the traffic lights, a young guy glanced at the Red Peril and gave her the thumbs up. She felt terrific, like a real celeb, cruising along in her wheels.
Carefully she indicated, and brought it to a stop at the kerb outside the flat.
There was no lock-up garage or even a carport. The wall blocked in the back, so she couldn’t even run it up a driveway. The car would have to stay on the roadside. She edged it up partly onto the kerb for protection. Carefully she locked it. Then went back to check. Fine. She hurried towards the house. Just as she put her front door key in the lock, wondering if that was going to work this time, the door opened and Genny shot out.
‘You’re late back. Thought you were going to give me a lift into the city.’ Looked like Genevieve was working again. She did follow up on things, like job leads. At this rate of working, even at low rates, she might save her fare soon.
‘I’ve just spent half an hour trying to get the car to start.’
‘Why?’ Genevieve was burrowing in her bag.
‘Why do you think? ‘Suddenly the wonderful feeling she’d gained from driving the Red Peril vanished and Lily was back with ordinary stuff, like grumpy flatmates. ‘I couldn’t get the car to start. Well, that’s not right. I couldn’t even get into the car.’
‘Oh, forgot your keys again, did you?’ Genevieve twiddled with her nose-ring which matched her navel ring. Body space was limited. Even Genevieve couldn’t find enough space for two rings everywhere. But her hair was so spiked, she looked permanently surprised.
‘No. Someone’s re-programmed the bloody lock. The electronic lock. You know, that beeper thing.’
Genevieve yawned. ‘I didn’t know you had a beeper on the Vomit. You seem to be having problems with keys this week. Don’t blame me. I put the spare key back outside under the African Violet. I don’t know who’s taken it.’
‘Well you should care. It means someone might be able to get into our place.Just walk straight up and open our door.’
Genevieve shrugged. ‘So? You couldn’t, the other night.’
Genevieve had signed the lease on the flat, only in her name, so Lily was stuck for a while, unless she could find somewhere cheaper.
‘Why would anyone want to do that?’
‘I DON’T KNOW!’ Lily shouted. ‘That’s what it’s all about. How can you work out the mind of a nutter. He’s freaky. He just seems to keep doing things which muck up my life for no reason… other than to make me mad.’
‘You said “he”.’
‘So?’
Genevieve could really get you going at times. ‘How do you know? It could be a ‘she’.’
Maybe someone had made a mistake. What if Genevieve had driven a stalker mad with her stupidity but he’d got the wrong girl. Lily almost smiled to herself. No-one would buy that theory. Besides Genevieve worked for a tele marketing company, sold her voice, used it for money, as she kept repeating.
‘I just…know…’ Lily finished lamely. ‘Jamie asked that too.’
‘Say, who owns THAT?’ Genevieve pointed to the Red Peril gleaming at the kerbside.
‘Me. For a week. Instead of pay as a volunteer.’ Lily said quickly.
Genny didn’t believe her. Fumbling in her backpack, Lily couldn’t resist zapping the key. This time it worked!
‘I thought you said ‘he’ changed it,’ said Genny disbelievingly.
‘Forget it!’ said Lily exploding inside. She wasn’t making things up. This was really happening. Someone was out to get her. The Follower. The Stalker. Call him what you like. He was THERE! What he did was freaky, and it was getting to her. She was thinking about him and what he might do, all the time. And this time there had only been about twenty-five minutes for him to change the electronics on the Red Peril. So he must be close, and watching her.
‘Oh, I borrowed your calculator,’ said Genevieve, ‘Just in case you think the stalker took it. Need it for the job interview. Any chance of me driving this car tomorrow?’
‘No way.’
Genny shrugged and slid into the front passenger seat, hooking her legs in like a professional model. ‘Ready chauffeur? Let’s move!’
Lily gave Genevieve a lift to town, and she wasn’t really showing off as she took the corner fast.
‘Hey!’ called Genevieve. ‘Fantastic! I’ll have to save up for one.’
For a moment, they enjoyed each others company. Then Lily said loudly as she pulled up.
‘Thanks for letting me know about the calculator. When you bring it back, maybe we could work out the rent that is owed. I paid all the extras last month, so you’ll need to work out your share. Would you like to borrow my Stalker too? He seems to have free time.’
****************************************************************
I walked quietly into the house because now I know my way around. I didn’t want to disturb anything at first. Didn’t want her to know I’ve been here. Or that anyone had been here. That’s my power. I know all about her life and she knows nothing about me. She doesn’t even know I’m in her bedroom now. Looking at the letters in her desk. Messy. Dusty. I could write a message in the dust, but I won’t. My fingers would get dirty. S
he is not tidy like me. Everything is ultra-clean at my place I wash my hands all the time and I know where everything is. No one could visit my bedroom and not be known to me. Here is Lily’s life, under my eye. Her shoes… her clothes on the hangers and on the floor.
I never touch Genevieve’s things. She doesn’t interest me, her voice is just ordinary, she’s stupid about security and she’s a user… of people.
Not many photos of Genevieve around but that doesn’t interest me. Lily is different. Her face looks so ‘lily-like’ up -close in the photos. I collect bits of her past life.
This is where Lily sleeps. Green is the right colour to back a lily. Green doona. White pillows. In the bathroom, green towels. Hairbrush. A green toothbrush. Green soap. A green car would have been better…her favourite colour, but I couldn’t organise that. They only had a red one.
At the shopping centre I’d drift past the perfume counter. Lily of the Valley was that old gran type perfume,but I could see the name printed. It gave me a thrill. I pretended I was buying the bottle for my Gran who was in hospital.
‘It’s always been her favourite perfume. Lily….’
‘Lily of the Valley?’ said the shopgirl.
‘Yes. Lily…. Lily of the valley perfume.’
Y from the Cult was on her program again. ‘God Business’ she asked him about and the smell of success. I don’t like that.
That Red Peril makes lots of noise. A good warning sound. I leave.
7
The Cult Interview
Lily wished she’d never done that Cult interview on the Wednesday, but Bernie insisted that it was too good an opportunity to miss a pre-record. At the time, it just seemed like an ordinary chat with a muso for her ‘hot goss.’ segment. She didn’t expect God-freaks to listen, record draw out stuff she’d never intended, and then make complaints.
Nothing felt safe anymore. Nothing was sure. She felt under siege. Who could the stalker be? Someone she knew well, or just slightly? An acquaintance? Couldn’t be a joker, this was getting serious? Especially if she couldn’t work out the reason why this was being done. That was the real worry.
****************************************************************
‘ID please. You’re not wearing a visitor’s pass.’ The burly navy suited guard stopped Lily. He was new, and breathed heavily.
‘What’s all the fuss about?’ Lily didn’t usually come in on a Wednesday, unless Bernie insisted. The new manager was changing lots of rules, like who did what and when. ‘Where’s Max?’
Max rarely checked ID and called all females under fifty ,‘Girlie’ because he couldn’t remember names.
‘Max is off today. I’m on. Where’s your ID?’ The new guard was insistent. His broad chest rose and fell under the navy jacket.
Lily fumbled in her backpack and found her ID. ‘Looks like you need a black T-shirt to be part of the crowd today.’ Lily made conversation. ‘Is it the latest miracle uniform?’
Most of the crowds gathered around the entrance to the radio station were fans wearing ‘This is Your Day for a Miracle’ shirts ordered from Y’s web site. They milled around.
‘I wouldn’t know. Y is being interviewed in Studio 4. The preacher man.’
Y was a rock star who ‘got’ religion. Now the Cult’s songs had changed to hot gospelling and he’d taken up miracles as a sideline, attracting sick people to his Crusades. Bernie’s heavy suggestion that she interview him for Lily’s ‘hot goss.’ segment couldn’t be ignored.
‘Unreal. Is he going to do any miracles around here? Like fixing the photocopier?’ joked Lily, but the guard was in security mode. He checked her photo and handed back the ID.
‘Just keeping out the fans. Controlling the scene.’
Bernie’s desk was piled with In and Out trays and slogans like ‘ARE YOU HERE TO SOLVE THE PROBLEM, OR ARE YOU THE PROBLEM?’ He and Jamie got on well because they shared a love of facts and figures. Bernie really liked change and so far, he’d improved the look of the place, with a bit of paint and new furniture. And he was moving on the money side too, getting new sponsors.
‘The Y’s early stuff was great. But lately, The Cult’s been a bit, you know, religious,’ said Lily. ‘The lyrics have changed.’
‘That doesn’t matter. He’s agreed to do a quick interview with you, after the Religion Today program. A freebie. ’ Bernie was an expert on freebies. ‘Usually he’d want a big interview fee, so we’re lucky because Channel 9’s crew was in to televise how charitable he was doing a free program for a community station.’
Jamie winked. ‘Your hot goss. segment is a bonus because Bernie asked him on camera if he’d do the interview with you. A bit hard to refuse, with thousands of viewers watching.’
Bernie smiled. ‘All in a good cause. Anyway, Jamie’s researched a few questions for you to make it a bit tougher than usual, Lily.’
‘Tougher in what way?’ Lily asked as Bernie and Jamie congratulated each other. Didn’t they think she could handle the ’Y’?
‘Ask him a more than “what’s your favourite song?” Ask about his followers. Link it to his crusades and their profits. They’ve had a lot of media coverage.’ Bernie shuffled papers on his desk. ‘Look, here’s the clippings file. His miracle crusades pull thousands of people. Organisers promise miracles when he sings that song. The sick will be healed. And money will be collected. Somehow, that could turn a person off God overnight .’
‘He’s BIG!’ Jamie, thrust a sheet of questions at Lily. ‘He’ll be in Studio 3, with us in eight minutes. Once he’s done religion.’
‘I’ll tell the front office you’re taking messages, not talkback as it’s a pre-record.’ warned Bernie. ‘Off you go.’
Lily hurried into the studio, half annoyed that they thought she couldn’t handle the questions and half excited at the chance to interview the Y. She could smell the Glen 20 spray the fussy presenter from ‘Religion’ used to disinfect the microphone and the telephone .She glanced up at the Studio address in big black texta on the wall. Carts were ready. The sign LOAD LATER, UNLOAD SOONER. Bernie believed in slogans. She stuck in a cart to check. The stark yellow Smoking Prohibite sign dominated. That was a new one. Even their Internet address was listed in big print on the wall in case a presenter had a memory gap. She lined up the carts. Sponsors. Messages. Ready to go. This was really Jamie’s job, but he’d done the questions for her. Team work was cool.
Five minutes later, they swapped places , Jamie gave a thumbs up sign, and Lily started interviewing the long-haired man, with the silky beard which he kept stroking. He no longer looked like the shaven photo on his early albums. Lily took a breath and started.
‘In the studio we have the Y. Now I know that lots of our listeners are fans of yours. Like to tell us the hot goss.? Black Dark was such a success. Big Miracles is completely different. Why have you recently changed the Cult’s types of songs?’
Lily sat back. The mike was popping. No ‘dead air’ time, please! She got ready to fill the gap, but then Y leaned forward and spoke in a honey voice. ‘I’ve moved into the God Business. A new relationship for me… Spiritual stuff. Heavy. The smell of success. The God Business is inspiring and I’m pretty inspired… Big Miracles is the top CD now, and I wrote that with God. Now God is helping me on the next song… Divine ’
Silence. Dead air which Lily hurried to fill. She scrapped her standard question ‘What inspired your lyrics?’ and said quickly ‘Er… does God get royalties, directly or indirectly?’
Luckily the Y seemed amused rather than upset by the question.
‘No, but He is helping me on the business side. Guiding my lyrics. So I’m going to share a few of the Divine dollars his way.’ Y flicked his hair back from his face, in a way you knew he liked the feeling.
Lily glanced down Jamie’s sideways writing, wishing he’d printed or typed instead. Saved on guessing. ‘You’ve been quoted as saying to fans, and followers,’ ‘If you donate
money, God will return it with interest.’
‘Yes. What’s wrong with that?’
‘You’ve recently moved into a ten million dollar house, you go up in hot air balloons with Miracle on the side.’
The mike popped. Lily moved the mike. Too much crackling
‘It’s been said that you are cashing in on the desperate and the sick,’ stated Lily, hoping Jamie’s quotes were accurate. She paused and tried again, ‘Do you profit from preaching? It’s said that sales from your “This is Your Day for a Miracle T shirts” have sold almost as much as your CDs. And that they have the smell of success. ‘As a member of the Cult, do you owe anything to your fans?’
Although Lily felt her stomach tighten, she liked playing the feisty interviewer. Usually people just wanted to be on air. They were pleased to be asked. This guy was different.
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