Stalked, but told i should be flattered
For six years, one obsessed woman has made life complete hell for 33-year-old bus driver Imre Marton
She rang me constantly and sent up to 500 messages a day
Sitting behind the wheel of the No 32 bus, I opened the doors for the passengers.
‘Morning, Imre,’ the old ladies smiled as they showed me their passes.
I’d see the same people day after day going about their business. But, every so often, a new face would appear.
It was in spring 2012 when I first noticed a slim, blonde woman stepping on board my bus with her free concessionary pass in Didcot, Oxfordshire. ‘Hi,’ she said with a shy smile. ‘Hello,’ I nodded.
But as the day went on, and passengers got on and off, this woman stayed put.
And when we pulled back in to Didcot hours later, she was still in her seat. Strange. ‘You all right, love?’ I asked. ‘Yeah,’ she giggled getting off. Maybe she’d fallen asleep,
I thought.
But the next day, she was back on the bus again.
Peering in my mirror, I could see her staring at me as I drove through the market town. Something didn’t seem right. Over the weeks, I noticed her waiting for me – almost every day – at the bus station.
Then, a few months later, I was downing a cup of tea on my break, sitting on a bench near a bus stop, when she appeared. ‘I love you,’ she blurted.
I was totally taken aback. I’d only ever said hello to her! I didn’t even know her name, let alone give her any reason to think I might like her. ‘Sorry, but I don’t feel the same,’ I said honestly.
As she broke into sobs, I went back to my bus feeling awkward.
But when I returned to the depot a few hours later, she was there – still crying.
I felt sorry for her, but didn’t know what to say.
Only, the next day, she was back, this time in high spirits, as if nothing had happened.
I began spotting her in shops and cafes, too. Wherever I went.
It isn’t the biggest town but this had to be more than a coincidence.
I felt as if I was being constantly watched.
On the bus, she began playing One Direction ballads and handing me love notes. Bizarre. At the end of 2012, I was taking my lunch break in Sainsbury’s cafe when I spotted her lurking nearby, watching me. Shivers shot down my spine. Enough is enough.
I called the police.
‘It feels as if I’m going to have a heart attack every time I see her,’ I admitted to officers.
The police told me the woman’s name was Charlie Howells.
They gave her a warning and I hoped that would be the end of it.
But it just made matters worse.
She found out my full name, added me on Facebook and bombarded me with hundreds of messages.
I just want to be a friend, she’d write.
At the end of my tether, I blocked her and asked for a transfer away from my usual bus route.
It did the trick.
Finally, I can relax, I thought. At the start of 2014, I met someone special, and things seemed to be going well between us.
But that March, I was on my new route when I saw a familiar face climbing aboard.
Charlie Howells. She’d found me!
‘Let’s be friends,’ she said.
But I didn’t believe a word of what she was saying.
That August, I secured a twoyear restraining order banning Howells from Oxford, from my bus route, or from having any form of contact.
But she just ignored it.
As I drove, she’d stand close to the driver’s cab.
I could practically feel her breath on the back of my neck. It made me want to be sick.
‘I can’t take this any more,’ I told my boss, ‘I need to cut down on my shifts.’
I took a job as a bouncer to help with the bills.
By now, Howells had got my phone number by ringing up the bus depot and pretending to be my girlfriend.
She rang me constantly and sent up to 500 messages a day. She even told me ‘the game was up’ and she was going to kill me.
Then, she started following me home, hanging around on my street in the early hours.
My girlfriend ended things because of the strain.
‘I’m so alone,’ I sobbed down the phone to my mum one night, back home in Hungary.
In April 2015, I agreed to a night out with a friend in an attempt to cheer myself up.
Only, when I arrived home,
I was so worried, I even bought a stab-proof vest to wear to work
Howells was waiting for me.
As I approached, she hurled liquid in my face.
It’s acid, I thought, panicking. Thankfully, it was just water but from then, each time I saw Howells, I called the police.
Finally, in May 2016, at Oxford Crown Court, she was jailed for two years, convicted of harassment and breaching a restraining order. The order was also extended to five years. I’m safe, I thought.
But it didn’t last. Howells was released in August 2017 and she continued following me around town, declaring her love.
I was so worried about what she might do next that I even bought a stab-proof vest to wear to work and had panic buttons installed in my flat. That November,
I took part in a BBC documentary about stalking. Soon after the show aired, I got a message on social media from a girl calling herself Becky. You’re the biggest fool ever, going on TV saying that you wear a stab vest. Well, now Charlie knows where not to stab you…i’d watch my back if I was you! You have been warned!!!!
I was terrified. In January this year, Howells was at a bus stop in Wallingford Market Place, screaming hysterically. I didn’t stop. I reported her to the police again.
Later, they told me she was saying she was going to stab me in the neck, and she’d been found with a knife.
In July this year, at Oxford Crown Court, Howells – now 24 – was jailed again for three years and given a 10-year restraining order after admitting to two breaches of the original restraining order, intimidation, and having a blade or article which is sharply pointed in a public place.
I couldn’t stand to be in the same room as her – it’s what she would have wanted – so I didn’t attend court.
But now, even though she’s behind bars again, I’m still in constant fear.
Some people think that being male and a victim of stalking is funny.
I’ve even been told that I should be flattered.
But my stalker has completely ruined my life.
I’ve moved to a new place. I can’t say more than that about where I’m now living because I’m too scared.
I’ve nearly gone bankrupt, losing £10,000 a year, £60,000 in total, because of missed shifts, avoiding overtime and taking a lower paid job in my new town.
I live like a 90-year-old man now, too scared to go out in case Howells or a friend of hers gets to me.
I would love to go out and meet someone special and start a family.
But I’m frightened that Howells would hurt my future wife or baby.
So I won’t be taking that risk. I just want other people in similar situations to me to know that they’re not alone.
The police have become better at helping stalking victims, but the sentences are too lenient.
That needs to change.
I hope by sharing my story, victims will be taken more seriously – before it gets this far.