Roger had been nice enough at the start of the relationship but his idea of a night out was watching football in the pub with the guys, or taking her to see Ice Hockey up at the Ice Arena. Now don’t get me wrong, Lisa was a sports fan but there was only so much she could take and so she gave him a choice of sports or his family. With a beer bottle in hand, he made his decision, smashing it over her head and dragging her out into the street like an animal. Had it not been for Dianne and her friend Angelika getting out of a cab just across the street, who knows what he might have done?

Like the coward he was though, Roger ran to his convertible and sped off in the opposite direction, clearly aware that he was outnumbered; even if it was Lisa’s kid and niece. They both went to the gym regularly and whilst not being ripped, could stand their ground in a fight with anyone, anywhere.

“Mom, are you alright?” asked Dianne, lifting her up by the arm with Angelika taking the other. “I can’t believe he would lift his... No actually I can because he’s a worthless piece of... Come on inside and we’ll get the kettle on”. They slowly helped Lisa back up into the house and set her down on the recliner armchair.

“What the hell was that all about anyway Aunt Lisa? I knew he was a little bitch all along and that confirms it... He’ll hit you when we’re not around because he knows what would have happened if we’d been here,” snapped Angelika. Her mother had passed away a few years ago and her father was in no state to look after himself, let alone his 18 year old daughter.

“Just leave it kids, please? I gave him a choice of us or sports and he made his decision. I’m just glad he’s gone and after tonight, he’ll be lucky if the courts give him anything other than the divorce papers. Dianne, call my solicitor for me and have him come over tomorrow morning so that I can explain everything. Angelika, please don’t go after Roger because I can take him hurting me but I don’t want anything to happen to either of you. Promise me girls, that you will not take actions in to your own hands?” begged Lisa. Her jaw ached where Roger had bounced her off the wall on the way out of the front door; her eyes were heavy and obviously bruised; her mouth was split and starting to swell up. The girls could see she was in serious pain and yet she still, in some way, had enough feelings for him not to let him get what he deserved.

The girls grudgingly agreed not to take matters in to their own hands but knew that it was the last thing Lisa needed after this cowardly attack. They would let things lie for a while until the divorce was finalised and then Roger would be fair game for a beat down. They had plenty of male friends that were involved with MMA organisations throughout Scotland and could always call in a favour so that it wasn’t his blood on their hands. Technically she had asked them not to touch him but she hadn’t said anything about anyone else working him over.

The day after the night before, Lisa decided the best way to forget about what Roger had put them through would be to go out and celebrate her soon to be single status. Angelika had heard of a place in Union Street called ‘Liquor Out’, offering cheap drinks, a good atmosphere and by all accounts, seemed to be a nice little place. It wasn’t the biggest bar in town but in comparison to the franchised big boys scattered all over the place, it was well situated and well looked after by the bar staff and security that worked there.

Angelika wouldn’t be able to make the night out as she would be working late but could pick up Lisa and Dianne when she finished so that they could take the party home. Ah, the life of an audio typist in a busy hospital… sure it was a secure job because you were always going to have to type up a doctors prognosis because they were too lazy to do it themselves, but at least you get your own office and window space in a dark, gloomy hallway. Okay, so it isn’t that great but it’s a job at a time when unemployment is at an all-time high and NHS provided jobs are pretty much a life-time guarantee as there’s always going to be the need for NHS workers.

Dianne owned and ran her own store in town selling things like new age herbal remedies, retro and alternative clothing. It wasn't the biggest store around; yet being positioned right between an electronics store and a mini-market meant she was never short of people popping in to have a look and see what was on offer. She had regular customers, mainly in their teenage years looking for bongs, cigarette papers, tobacco and black clothing, but those clients withstanding she did quite well. Amongst the teens and the random shoppers, there was also another kind of clientele that would frequent her store… the kind that could conjure white and dark magic. Dundee was starting to attract a fair amount of conjurers but because they consciously made an effort to fit into the local community, you would never have known whether they were a normal or a supernatural.

Lisa too led an interesting life as the Dean of Medicines at a privately run medical facility in Dundee. This however was not a facility that catered to the general public; it was owned by Goldstein Pharmaceuticals, an American firm that had bought over vacant land in the former industrial estate at West Pitkerro. Much like The Polyamourous Group, Goldstein Pharmaceuticals brought hundreds of jobs to the city. With the facility being privately owned and run, the hiring policy was on a par with that of the MI5, C.I.A and FBI agencies meaning that even the tiniest of transgressions would prevent you ever being considered for employment. Why such a severe, secure hiring policy? For now, let’s just say that the clientele were ‘gifted’ and therefore unable to get the kind of medical care that the standard NHS or more publicly used private health services could offer. Lisa not only was responsible for the staff working within the facility, she also sat in on employment interviews and assisted with background checks on all applicants. Anyone that met her approval was pretty much a shoe-in for the job.

“Come on Dianne, move it or lose it. The night is young, the drink is cheap and we’re going to paint the town red,” proclaimed an already tipsy Lisa. She had elected not to go in to work today based on the fact that she was still partially swollen around her face but the pain was nearly gone. Determined to prove to Roger (and more likely herself) that she was stronger than people expected her to be and could take a beating from her former partner and yet still have enough confidence in herself to go out and enjoy herself with her family. “Dianne, I’m not kidding young lady, if you’re not down here in 5 minutes…”

“You’ll start without me? Unlikely mom,” replied Dianne as she came down the stairs taking 2 at a time. “You know I’d drink you under the table and that’s even with a 4 bar start”. The grin on her face was as wide as a Cheshire cat and they both laughed a little. It’s rare these days to see a mother and daughter get on so well but the closeness between the two had never really been a problem. Going back through the generations, the Cameron family had never really seen much in-fighting between the parents and youths, probably being due to the fact that at an early age, respect and discipline was taught to the children in a relaxing and fun way as opposed to a militaristic teaching.

“Oh Dianne… you seem to forget that before you were even a twinkle in my eye, the bars in Dundee knew that when I entered, it would be a high-profit night for themselves and the brewery. Plus I have at least a good 20 years experience in comparison to your 2 years??”

“That’s just your age showing though mother dear. You’re used to the old fashioned drinks but you wouldn’t last trying to match me with sambuca, absinthe or aftershock,” said Dianne as she grabbed her jacket and keys from the table.

“Ah but if it came down to malt whiskey, rum or gin; you’d be on the floor by the time Angelika comes to get us.”

Lisa had already phoned ahead to order them a taxi, and as though by magic, a horn beeped outside to signal its arrival. Camphill Road in Broughty Ferry wasn’t the busiest street in the world but the high walls and trees lining everyone’s gardens meant you did have a little privacy. Dianne made sure to close the iron gates at the end of their driveway and joined her mother in the back seat. After giving the driver their destination, they buckled up and set off for what they hoped would be a night to remember.

They started off light with a glass of wine in The Mill on Dock Street and from there went to McClaffery’s in the Seagate, the Irish bar. The token Guinness and Whisky were downed in there before moving on to The Barfly Bar in Commercial Street for a round of vodka mixers and finally on to Liquor Out in Union Street. By this time, they had attracted a few male admirers with offers of joining them for drinks elsewhere, all of which the girls declined but saved the numbers just in case things changed as the night wore on.

When they got inside Liquor Out, they managed to find a corner booth and set themselves up there for the night. Lisa by this point was starting to feel the effects of last night and so decided to have a drink, then water and continue down this route. Dianne followed suit and willingly agreed to match her mother drink for drink but not in a competitive way. After their second drink, there appeared a crowd of youths through the door, already apparently 3 sheets to the wind and not exactly trying to mask their inebriation.

Dianne passed through the group with little or no trouble and sat at the bar as she waited for the bartender to serve her drinks. From the corner of her right eye she saw one of the female bouncers walking towards her with a purpose and started to worry. Had she said or done something to offend anyone? Not that she could think of but then again maybe she wasn’t the one they were looking for.

“Excuse me young lady, your group were told to keep the noise down and to show some respect to the other paying customers. If things get heated again then you can find yourselves a new bar to fight in, are we clear? What’s your name anyway?” asked the bouncer standing over Dianne with ease.

“I’m Dianne, but I am not with the rowdy group that came in. I’ve been here for a while sitting at one of the booths by the entrance” she replied with a slight tremble in her voice. The bartender served her with the drinks she had paid for, she excused herself and scuttled across to her corner booth; knowing that she was still being watched.

“What was that all about, are you alright?” asked Lisa who had been watching with concern when Dianne was cornered by the butch woman at the bar.

“I’m fine; she just thought we were involved with the rowdy crowd of kids that came in about ten minutes ago. Case of mistaken identity so everything is fine mom, trust me,” replied Dianne. Her phone vibrated across the table and after checking the caller display, was glad to see it was Angelika.

“Hey babe, that’s me just finished. Where are you two lovely ladies hiding? I’m nearly in town so finish your drinks and I’ll meet you in 5 minutes,” she said.

“We’re still in Liquor Out so we’ll finish up and meet you outside. Be as quick as you can, things are getting a little heated in here,” replied Dianne.

“Will do hun, I’m half way down riverside drive just now so shouldn’t be much longer. See you in two.”

With that being said, Dianne slid out of the booth, put her jacket over her shoulders and downed her vodka, ensuring it barely touched the sides of her throat. Lisa was slightly inebriated by this point but was still able to fend for herself. Passing her jacket and handbag to Dianne, she slid out of the booth and right on to her backside. With a giggle and Dianne shaking her head, Lisa pulled herself up on the table and together they made their way towards the door. The female bouncer that had confronted her earlier looked over disapprovingly, watching the pair leave with an eagle eye.

As they stepped outside, as if by magic, roaring up the street was Angelika in her people carrier. She parked on the kerb and let the girls get in, then took off as though she was in the midst of a police chase. As she turned around to faster her seatbelt, Dianne had one last glance at the bar and saw both of the bouncers bolt out of the door looking for something or someone, and fix their eyes directly on her. They must have cursed or something because the taller one’s face became crimson with rage to the extent that she booted over a wheelie bin and stormed back inside.

After a few moments, Angelika slowed down and put some jazz on as background music, loud enough to hear it but low enough so that they could speak without shouting.

“So what was going on in there to get you so spooked baby?” asked Angelika looking in her rear view mirror for a moment at Dianne.

“There was a rowdy crowd of kids there starting a fist-fight with each other and the bouncers had a case of mistaken identity, thinking I was involved. They didn’t need to say anything for me to feel intimidated because they were like Amazonian women, huge and looking pretty muscular”.

“You could have taken them, you’ve got the speed and height advantage being so small, they’d need to bend down to chase you so you could run circles around them,” laughed Angelika.

“Hey, why are we in the car? I thought we were painting the town red tonight girls?” asked a semi-conscious Lisa.

“You’re not painting anything mom, apart from the toilet bowl with vomit if you drink any more alcohol tonight. I can’t believe you fell on your butt, talk about embarrassing,” joked Dianne. She prodded her mother in the ribs a few times to emphasise the point. They all shared a laugh and slipped back into silence as they drove on through the night, heading home to watch a few DVD’s or more likely crawl into bed and enjoy a long sleep through the morning seeing as how tomorrow would be Sunday.

Pulling up to the driveway, Angelika spotted something hanging from the gate and so asked the others to wait in the car and stepped out to look at it. It was a plain brown envelope with no name attached but clearly full with something.

She put it under her arm and opened the gate, walked back to the car and drove back up to the front of the house; ushering Lisa and Dianne into the house before going back out to close the driveway gate. Checking to see if there had been any tampering with it or any evidence that someone had been nearby, she noticed a set of muddy footprints on the pavement outside the gates. This was unusual because it wasn’t and hadn’t been raining for a few days now but the prints looked fresh, maybe half an hour old if that.

When she got back into the house, she sat Lisa and Dianne down with a cup of coffee telling them what she had found. Together, they opened the package and found A4 sized photos of them taken but a few short hours ago. The photographs were of Lisa and Dianne strolling through the town; then sitting in Liquor Out; and snaps of Angelika at her work, arriving, sitting at her desk and getting in to her car. Someone was following them and had been able to get up close and personal shots of them without any real trouble and without their knowledge. The last photograph had a note on the back and after reading it, a shiver shot down their spines.

‘Anyone can be traced; anyone can be followed;

Can you trust the ones you love? Can you trust yourself?

Someone has sold you out and it’s up to you to figure out why;

Better find out soon before one of you disappears and the others expire…’

Your Not So Secret Stalker…?

They sat there in total shock, wondering who would do this to them and, if the note could be believed, who would have sold them out. When the shock wore off, they talked about it, trying to find out if it was a code but to no avail; they looked through every book in Lisa’s study that was filled with literature, trying to figure out if it was a poem from some obscure book or a song lyric from some little known song but nothing materialised. Even looking online for any reference to the warning came up with nothing substantial or concrete that could point them in the right direction. Unfortunately the situation was as clear and simple as much as they didn’t want it to be.

Someone was out to get them; and someone wanted them dead…