After a brief kerfuffle, they’d gone to a commercial break. He could just imagine them running around in circles and wringing their hands. Oh, what should we do? What should we do? There’s a real live stalker on our Twitter feed! Can we trace him? Is there any way we can find out who he really is? But, oh, how fabulous all this is for our ratings!
And now they were back, looking just a little flustered.

A giggle rose in his throat as that TV shrink, Dr Banda, started saying that Jamie’s stalker probably had a distant or domineering mother as a child. Most stalkers, according to the good doctor, were working through unresolved mother issues from their childhood. They were either looking for attention from the mother-figures in their lives, or trying to take back some of the control that had been wrested from them by women in their formative years.

Little breathy chuckles escaped from his mouth as he thought about his own mother tucked away in her retirement village in Jukskei Park. She had been neither distant nor domineering. She had been ordinary. It wasn’t her fault she had a son destined for greatness.

Now that stupid woman known as “Seena” was giving her two-cent’s-worth. It had been ridiculously easy to find out that her real name was Vishna. He had toyed with the idea of following her around for a while, just to teach her not to be so smug about her “triumph” over stalking. But she was old and shop-worn now – almost forty. There was no point wasting time on her when the thrill of following Jamie still burned so bright.