This is the first part of a non traditional non fan fiction story about a rock star, a nervous breakdown and a mad stalker. Cake is required in the reading of this book. No famous people were hurt in the writing of this book.
I was just figuring out my options...do I give chase? do I wait around? do I regain my respect, dignity, and okay sanity and run like the wind back home?...when I noticed the policeman standing there. I smiled at him, unthreateningly, in his defence it might have looked slightly manic, but I was trying my best not to look mad, which never really works...bit of a tip here, people can always tell if you're trying not to look mad...it's in the eyes...and my eyes screamed I'm having a bit of a psychotic break...please step away for your own safety. Instead he asked me what I was doing...I explained, but all he heard was stalker, camera, chasing and mad axe murderer...that last one was a surprise to me too, but I needed him to be aware of how dangerous Stalker girl was.
The ride in the police car was quite a calming experience, the police station was serene...apparently the rocking and humming I was doing was irritating people, and trying to explain why I had a camera full of strange photos of bits of Ricky Wilson that I had no knowledge of was difficult. Especially when the sweet photo of the birds nest in a tree I took came out blurred, but the background of a very naked Ricky Wilson standing in his bathroom doorway fresh from the shower was unfortunately extremely clear...eek eek eek. After confiscating the memory card...as evidence they said...and the arresting officer had put it in his pocket for safe-keeping...hmmm...they finally let us go and advised us to leave the country... but they did realise that we were only doing this for the benefit of mankind...fingers clinging to the edge of the madness pit were slowly losing their grip.
In a mutual moment of sanity...something that is rare in my life...we decided to take their advice and return home...we would put London, Stalker girl and Ricky Wilson behind us and become sane, upstanding members of the human race...okay...so that lasted roughly about two weeks. Stalker girl went home to France without harming anyone, and I tried really hard not to look at her twitter feed...but it's like any addiction, you have one taste and you're hooked...I promise I was just checking that she'd got home safe, because I'm caring like that...it had nothing to do with craziness or nosiness or alcohol...okay there was tequila but...ehh.
One peek showed that Stalker girl had escalated...oooo...Stalker girl had bought a blow up doll online...one of those passenger seat ones for women who drive alone at night...well I hope that's what it was...the alternative is just too icky to contemplate...euww. She dressed the doll like Ricky Wilson, many photos of the doll posing in waistcoats, and had a Ricky Wilson mask covering its face...There were photos of her taking 'him' shopping...ummm...then 'they'd' gone for a meal, a picnic, a drink, the beach...she'd even taken 'him' to the pictures...wow this doll was getting out more than I was.
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(note from writer - so very very very sorry, I can't apologise enough)
