Stalking Miriam

Chapter 1

AS THE FURNITURE LORRY left, Miriam closed the squeaking gate. ‘This gate needs oil,’ she thought, shutting it with a deliberate action. Symbolically, she was shutting out the stormy existence she had suffered until recently and turning to face a new life. She was turning away from the drizzly Cape; now she was standing in sunny Sandton. She was leaving such a stormy time behind her. Hopefully, a tranquil time lay ahead.

Leaning on the gate, Miriam gazed up and down her street. ‘So many houses, so many strangers,’ she thought. ‘It is time to meet new people and make new friends.’

Slowly, in the warmth of the sunlight, she walked towards her new home. She stopped to sniff the roses waltzing in the breeze. ‘I always wanted roses in my garden. I’m going to enjoy developing this garden to my impression of a perfect, relaxing sanctuary.’

She felt exhilarated with her own home, her own garden and her new life. Softly she started humming. She felt like dancing and skipping.

Carefree she ascended the few stairs to her terrace. ‘This area looks too barren. It needs comfy chairs and a table with a bright and lively cloth. Perhaps even a touch of paint here and there.’

She sat on the railing, swinging her legs. She could imagine an evening with friends, chatting, laughing and relaxing with a bottle or two of bubbly and some snacks.

Shrubs, green lawns, ample parking and tranquil surroundings bordered her new home. Now humming to herself a little louder, she thought: ‘This is just as I wanted it to be … just as I longed for.’

Entering the lounge, Miriam had to wend her way through scores of unpacked boxes. There were boxes to the left, to the right, everywhere. Her furniture was cramped into one corner, waiting to be released. It needed to be displayed so that her antique Cape Dutch cabinets could be appreciated once more. She would dust and polish them with the affection she felt for them. While humming, she caressed them, running her fingers over the wood. Slowly turning around, she looked at her earthly possessions stacked around her.

‘Fortunately, I had the insight to mark these boxes. Now at least I know where each one must go.’

She needed tea and set about locating a box marked ‘kitchen’ and dragged it to her new kitchen. Escaping from her recent turmoil in the Cape, she wanted tranquil time to recover and rediscover herself. She needed to be far away from all the tension of a complicated divorce, the rage of in-laws, the insults, the threats and the possible danger of uncontrollable anger.

A new position, a new home, a new life. This is what she most craved. No sea, no mountains, no vineyards. She could live without these. She wanted peace and quiet without quarrels, agitation, insults and beatings. She wanted to be safe. For a few months, at least, she needed to be herself. She wanted to heal her bleeding emotions and her scars. She desperately needed to recover from the emotional and physical hurt that haunted her.

Miriam became tough. No longer would she be the underdog, the softy and the punch bag. Gradually, she was recovering and becoming stronger … becoming a woman to be reckoned with. By now, she had become a wiser woman who could stand up for herself – a woman never again to be intimidated. She came out a fighter, a survivor.

She found her tea and sugar, and then realised she had forgotten to buy milk. ‘Oh, well, coffee creamer will have to do. Well now, where are my mugs and where’s my kettle?’

While humming, she opened all boxes marked ‘kitchen’ and found what she was looking for. Much to her relief, she was about to savour her first cup of tea in her new home with many kilometres separating her from her previous stifling life with its turmoil. She was feeling great, splendid. Now she felt she could face life again. She promised herself she would never crumble again.

Tomorrow would be her first day at work. The same company, but with new colleagues, new offices, a new boss and a new position. These people would be far removed from her previous existence. As a senior in the company, she would dictate and not be dictated to. She would not be abused ever again.

Seeing her problems mounting outside the office, her work superiors in Cape Town had arranged to transfer her to the central office in Sandton at the beginning of the financial year. They valued her as a dedicated worker who never seemed to allow her worst difficulties to interfere with her work.

Miriam had to start organising this place and make it a liveable home. While humming, she continued to clean her kitchen and unpack the boxes. Then she moved to the bathroom and, last for the day, she cleaned the bedroom. She could not wait to stretch out and have a good night’s sleep in the safety and privacy of her own home.

Finding her new accommodation and finalising the arrangements for her transfer to Sandton had been exhausting and time consuming.

She was home now with the past being little more than a horrid nightmare. She came through all the trials of her recent past without losing her sanity or her sense of humour. Despite a few scars, she was stronger and her integrity intact. Content, happy and humming, Miriam was unaware that outside her gate darkness and terror were lurking.

Chapter 2

HAVING HEARD ABOUT the notorious Johannesburg traffic, Miriam left early for work. Fortunately, she was travelling against the main stream coming from the opposite direction. She listened to the news and the weather report. What a beautiful sunny summer’s day it was going to be. She felt exhilarated and was singing along with the radio.

Standing in front of her desk, Miriam looked around her and noticed her new office was well equipped electronically, but marred by a strong masculine ambiance. Sitting down in her chair, she noticed there was not much of a view. Her view was blocked by the large buildings across the street. She thought to herself: ‘At least the sun is shining.’ At work in Cape Town, she’d had little more to see than a miserable grey building across the street.

Bringing her gaze back to her office, she thought: ‘Oh, well, with time, I will have to bring in some femininity. As long as the lifts keep working because I’m not keen on climbing stairs in my heels, either up or down.’

Her thoughts were interrupted when a grumpy looking man entered.

‘I’m Johny Nicolson.’

His grumpy and stern face suddenly erupted into a broad smile. Putting his hand out to greet her, he said: ‘Welcome. Hopefully, you will have a lovely time. I’m supposed to be your boss.’

Shaking her hand, Nicolson remarked: ‘I must admit, I expected an older person. Not such a young, vibrant and attractive lady.’

‘Pleased to meet you, sir. Thank you. I’m sure I will be happy here.’

‘I know you’ve just arrived, but look around. If you would like anything reorganised or changed …’

‘I would have loved an office with a less masculine atmosphere.’

‘Well, your predecessor was a middle-aged, pipe-smoking ex-military gentleman with a toothbrush moustache. In time you will, no doubt, do your magic here. I’m sure the company can afford to redecorate it to your liking.’

A soft knock on the door and a young, dizzy blonde entered.

‘Mrs Kendrick, I’m Poppy, your secretary. This bunch of flowers was delivered for you. Where would you like Mike to place it?’

Behind a huge arrangement was a dishevelled-looking man. He had a small forehead and a broad nose. His wide smile displayed crooked teeth.

‘Thanks, I did not expect it. Please place it on the desk. This is a pleasant surprise. Where did it come from?’

‘Not sure. Mike brought it. He got it downstairs. Mike, where’s the letter?’

Mike seemed a bit embarrassed and began digging in his pockets.

‘Good day, Mr Nicolson … miss, welcome, miss. Anything to be done, miss, just call Mike, miss.’

He placed the letter on the desk and hurried out. Miriam, stopping him, walked round the table and put her hand out to him: ‘Nice meeting you, Mike.’

Shuffling around and blushing down his neck into his shirt, Mike took the outstretched hand clumsily. Poppy saw his uneasy blushing. Coming to his rescue, she asked: ‘How does Mrs Kendrick like her tea, or will it be coffee?’

At the word ‘coffee’, Nicolson roused immediately: ‘What about me? I haven’t had coffee for an eternity, about twenty minutes.’

‘Mrs Kendrick, never ask Mr Nicolson if he would like coffee. Just bring his coffee, half a spoon sugar and a trickle of milk. Right, sir?’

‘Why is it taking so long for me to get my coffee?’

‘Tea please; otherwise, like Mr Nicolson, without the sugar, that is. Thank you.’

Poppy looked at the flowers. ‘Missus, we did not welcome you with flowers, I’m embarrassed to say. We were told you would be a stranger in this big city of ours. Who would send you flowers? An admirer already?’

‘Mrs Kendrick, you must please excuse our dizzy blonde. She is our secretary and runs everything in the office. She is called Poppy and she’ll help you to find your feet. That will take a few days. Mike is ready to do the errands you may need.’ Smelling a rose, Nicolson added: ‘I must admit, I’m also a bit inquisitive.’

Miriam sat down and opened the computer-typed letter, clearly addressed to her. ‘Remarkable,’ she thought, ‘still using an old-fashioned dot-matrix printer.’

My dearest Miriam

I’m so happy you came back. I always knew that at some or other stage we would meet again. You are still as vivacious and attractive as always.

I would like you to accept these flowers as a sign of my gratitude at seeing you again.

My next bunch of flowers will be a wreath on your grave. I promise I will be attending your funeral, wherever it may be.

Welcome back, enjoy your stay.

With fondest memories of the past.

She sat looking at the letter, before passing it to Nicolson and then to Poppy.

‘I’m not sure what it means. Could it be a death threat? What do you think?’

‘It seems somebody knows you,’ Nicolson suggested. ‘It may just be a very sick joke. I don’t know what to make of it. Is there anyone you know who may want to harm you?’

‘Except for my ex, nobody else. I think I’ll ignore it.’

Miriam crumpled the paper and tossed it into the waste basket. Poppy fished it out and looked at it again before remarking: ‘Definitely a sick letter. I can’t ignore it. I will file it.’

Miriam asked: ‘Why go to that trouble?’

‘My blonde brain tells me to straighten it, keep it, file it. It is too ominous just to be tossed aside. What shall I call the file?’

‘Just call it ‘Miriam’. Plain and simple.’

‘I’ve already created a ‘Miriam’ file. I will give it a subdivision: ‘Threatening Letters’.’

Miriam looked at her: ‘Do you expect more?’

‘No! That’s why it’s only a subdivision.’

Miriam moved the flowers to a separate table. ‘Lovely flowers. They must have cost a bit.’

Nicolson uncrossed his legs: ‘I’m not happy about the letter.’

Miriam sat down behind her desk. ‘Mr Nicolson, there isn’t much we can do about it. But you can show me around and introduce me. I would like to know what my immediate duties are and what I must do today.’

‘I think, first of all, I must show you the powder room and the coffee cow.’

‘I will bring pen and paper and during our visit to the coffee cow you can spell out to me where I fit into your operation. I do not need to powder my nose right now. Thanks for the consideration.’

As he looked at her, his face lit up in a broad smile and she saw a naughty twinkle in his eyes. No wonder her old boss said she would be happy here. Apparently Nicolson’s staff would crucify themselves for him.

‘It’s coffee, then, and I may be able to point you in the right direction.’

They got their coffee and he turned to her, raising his cup. ‘Welcome to our family and Gauteng. You are even more lovely than that rascal of an old boss of yours has painted you.’

‘Thank you very much. I’m sure we will work well together. You do have beautiful offices, but I would appreciate mine being a bit more cosy and feminine.’

‘That can be arranged. You must tell me what you want and then I will get contractors to do it during a long weekend. When you return, it should feminine and personal as you would love it to be.’

‘Doing it over a long weekend could be extremely expensive.’

‘That may be, but that will be the least disruptive, not only for you but for everyone in the offices. Remember, they walk to and fro, drill, hammer and paint.’

Laughing, Miriam added: ‘I don’t want the place knocked down. I just thought it needs a friendlier and more feminine colour scheme. The green walls and tobacco pong remind me of army barracks.’

‘Not to worry. It’ll be done over a long weekend. Come and meet our other colleagues. Remember, we are a family. Any – and I mean any – problems, if I can be of help, call me. Now come let me show you around and introduce you.’

Miriam was looking at the flowers. Lovely touch, she thought, that someone had sent her flowers on her first day at her new workplace; however, she could not understand the message. She did not realise what was in store for her.

Chapter 3

MIRIAM RETURNED TO her car with a trolley full of groceries. In her mind she ran through her shopping list. Yes, she got everything – possibly a few extra things. She felt happy and free. She had enough groceries for a week. She definitely would not starve.

She could not have imagined life as lovely as it had been since her arrival. The car guard came running to assist her: ‘Let me help you, madam.’

Opening the boot, she and the car guard packed her groceries. He walked with her to the car door and watched as she tried to unlock it, but she couldn’t get the key in. The lock seemed blocked.

‘Madam, there was a man who was buggering with your lock. It looked like a tube of stuff he squirted into it. When I asked him what he was doing, he just walked away. I called him but he disappeared. I think he has put superglue in it. It smelled like that.’

‘What did he look like?’

‘He was about madam’s age, in a grey suit. I could not see his face. He did not look at me. He just walked away. I think he was a criminal in a suit.’

‘How old do you think I am?’

He looked at her, squinting his eyes, deep in thought. How was he going to rescue himself from this predicament and not forfeit his tip?

‘Miss… I don’t know, miss. About twenty years. Plus minus, miss.’

‘Thank you.’

Walking around the car, she tried the left-side door and it opened. Leaning in, she opened the right door. Suddenly, she remembered the flowers and the letter. She was wondering.

‘What is your name?’

‘Elias, madam.’

‘Well, Elias, I think you may have saved me a lot of trouble today. Thank you.’

She fished a note from her purse and passed it to him.

‘Elias, thank you again. Please help me to reverse out.’

Miriam decided not to mention the lock episode. She would have her car checked at a garage. She saw a car repair shop and turned in. The mechanic checked the lock and told her it seemed glued solid. He’d have to warm a wire and, hopefully, the intermittent heat created by moving the wire in and out of the lock, would make the glue brittle. Fortunately, the heat did the trick and he could unlock her door.

‘The car guard saved you a lot of trouble. Fortunately, there was not a lot of glue in it. It must have been someone who wanted to make your life miserable. Young lady, this was not a joke.’

He refused payment. ‘I’m happy to have been of help.’

As she drove away, she kept thinking: ‘That was not a joke. He wanted to make your life miserable. That was not a joke … that was not a joke.’

Why did that worry her so much? Was this incident associated with the flowers? The next bunch would be a wreath. She worried about the wreath.

She felt a slight twinge of anxiety. She’d come here to be free from the tensions and tribulations of the Cape, not to be exposed to emotional blackmail again. In the Cape, she knew her adversary. It was her ex-husband, but who was it this time? Could his tentacles stretch all the way to Sandton? Was he still striving to make her a nervous wreck? Was he trying to destroy her as he’d promised so frequently? Would she suffer more tribulations, humiliation and mental torture?

She could see him, his eyes flashing in anger: ‘I will make you regret the day you were born. You are despicable. Just because you are a success you think you are so smart. You think you are such a smart ass. You are just a cow. Moooo!’

Then, to add injury to insult, he would hit her so that she went flying. With her lying on the floor, he would, at times, kick her. When his temper settled again he was full of remorse. He would make all kinds of self-improvement promises. He brought her flowers, cuddled her and he loved her until she forgave him. It would last until the next boozing binge, the next disaster, the next … who knows what.

She finally realised she was in grave danger after a particularly severe beating. Knocking her down,