‘My stalker took my home, my job and my life’

It's not just celebs who attract stalkers. Over one million UK women are victims. Here, two share their stories...

On first glance, it looked innocent enough. It was a plain white envelope, hand-written and addressed to single mum Ann Moulds.

Ann was stalked for three terrifying years by Alex Reid (below).

As Ann opened it, she hoped perhaps she had a secret admirer Valentine's was a few days away.

But there were no loving overtures inside. Instead, it was a shocking list of sexual acts, all described in depraved detail. And whoever had written them made it quite clear they wanted to do them to Ann.

She threw the letter away, hoping it was a sick one-off. In fact, it was just the start of an obsessive stalking campaign, which experts described as one of the worst they've seen.

"I was shocked by the card," says Ann, who works as a podiatrist and has a 25-year-old daughter, Emma. "But it was smutty, rather than threatening.

"I had no idea who'd sent it, I just wanted to forget all about it. I didn't realise it'd escalate into something terrifying. That this man would cause me to lose everything I held dear."

Reid is now on the sex offenders register.

Ann, now 49, was to become one of the 1.2 million female stalking victims in the UK. In reality, experts believe this figure to be much higher, due to the number of women who are either too scared to report the crime, or worried they're overreacting.

And while stalkers can be strangers, women are likely to be targeted by someone they already know. In some cases, this obsession ends in violence, even murder.

In 2006, 28-year-old teacher Andrea Howarth, of Wingate, County Durham, was stabbed to death by her estranged husband Jonathan. He used a spy programme to track her emails and mobile phone, and discovered she was in contact with an old boyfriend.

A year earlier, in September 2005, Harvey Nichols sales assistant Clare Bernal, 22, was gunned down in front of shoppers by her ex-boyfriend Michael Pech, 30.

He had subjected her to a six-month stalking campaign and was awaiting sentencing when he killed her.

Ann's stalker started slowly. For six months after the first letter, she heard nothing. Then another note arrived at her home in Ayr, Scotland, with a photograph. It showed a man, from the neck down, wearing stockings and bondage gear. Scrawled on the page were crude sexual comments.

"I was horrified," says Ann. "It was so extreme. Although the tone and content were similar to the Valentine's card, I couldn't prove the two were linked. I confided in some friends and they told me to throw it away and try to forget about it. So I did."

But two weeks later, another picture arrived. This time the man was naked. And sexually aroused.

Ann went to the police. "They told me there was nothing to go on," she says. "All I could do was keep it and wait and see if I got anything else. It was really upsetting."

The police's reaction to Ann's complaint isn't unusual, says former Metropolitan Police Detective Inspector Hamish Brown, one of the UK's foremost stalking experts.

"In isolation, some stalking acts - such as parking outside the victim's house every day or texting them constantly - might not be considered a criminal offence," he explains. "It's only the cumulative effect of this behaviour that can become an offence."

With no police intervention, Ann's life was thrown into turmoil. Letters arrived every few weeks detailing bondage fantasies, plus photos of the stranger in women's underwear.

Then the phone calls started. "He'd ring at around 4am, five or six times," she says. "I'd pick up, but no one would speak. It was terrifying. And I couldn't understand it. Why was this person targeting me? What did they want from me?"

By now, the letters were telling Ann that her tormentor knew where she worked and that he watched her house.

"I became absolutely terrified that he was watching my every move," Ann says. "In winter, I'd leave work early so I didn't have to walk in the dark and I rarely went out."

Gradually, her feelings of helplessness and anxiety worsened. "I trusted no one. I had no idea who this man was or what he was going to do," she says. "While he didn't threaten to kill me, he was clearly depraved."

Embarrassed, Ann stopped telling her friends what was happening. But there was one person who regularly asked how she was - local handyman Alex Reid, 49.

"I'd met him through a mutual friend in 2003," she says. "We knew each other to say hello to around town."

After another letter, which said how her stalker planned to tie her up, gag her and put a hood over her face before torturing her, she found herself confessing all to Alex.

"He'd rung to see if I needed any jobs doing," she says. "I'd never told him what was happening, but I was so freaked out that when he asked how I was, I told him everything.

"He was appalled, calling the person who was doing this to me 'sick'," Ann says. "He told me to ring him if anything else happened. He even offered me his spare room if I ever felt uneasy in my house. I appreciated his support."

Despite having someone to confide in, the strain was taking its toll. "I developed migraines, lost weight and my hair started falling out. My daughter, Emma, stopped coming to stay because she was too scared to be in the house," she says.

In June 2006, Ann decided to get away from it all and booked a holiday to Portugal.

Settling down to dinner one evening, she got a text. It was from Alex, asking if she wanted him to do anything while she was away. But it ended with a sickening pay-off line.

"The message ended with the words: 'I want to wear your knickers on my head and lick your shoes'" she says quietly.

Suddenly, Ann realised who had been terrorising her.

"I texted back saying I couldn't believe what he'd written. He replied to say it was meant for someone else.

"I felt so sick, and I was furious that this man had taken my life, my confidence - everything - from me."

Ann immediately contacted the police. When officers raided Reid's home they found women's lingerie and shoes - all the items he'd worn in the photographs Ann received.

Reid was finally charged with breach of the peace, but he was allowed bail. Scared, Ann quit her job, sold her house and moved to a town 100 miles away.

In 2008, Reid admitted placing Ann in a state of fear and alarm at her home between September 1, 2004 and June 30, 2006. He was sentenced to 260 hours of community service, three years probation and his name was put on the sex offenders register for three years.

"My life was, effectively, destroyed. I had to move away from the place that I'd lived in for 30 years. I've had to build up a life from scratch again, all while this man has the same life. How is that justice?" she says.

Ann now runs the campaign Action Scotland Against Stalking and is petitioning for a change in Scottish law. In England and Wales, the Protection From Harassment Act was passed in 1997. Under this, a person can be sentenced to up to six months in prison for behaviour that could be presumed to cause the victim alarm or distress. A sentence of up to five years can be passed should crimes be perceived to have 'reasonably caused the victim to have a fear of violence'.

Unfortunately for Ann, this law doesn't apply in Scotland where the offences are just treated under breach of the peace.

"We want stalking defined as a serious crime," says Ann. "People can't have their lives stolen by monsters. The judge said Reid wasn't a danger to the community. I beg to differ."

'He said I'd be hanged'

Alexis was sent threatening emails by Alexander Reeve (below).

Alexis Bowater, 40, is the chief executive of NSS (Network for Surviving Stalking) and was cyber stalked for three years while working as a TV presenter. She lives in South Devon with her husband and two children.

"Getting ready to present the evening news on ITV West Country, I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself. My heart was thumping and my palms were sweaty.

Would he be watching tonight? Would there be another sordid, violent email to the general news room email address?

For the past two years I'd been cyber stalked, receiving emails from an anonymous stranger, who threatened to harm me and blow up the studios where I worked.

Reeve was jailed for four years for his crimes.

The harassment began in January 2006, as soon as my first pregnancy started showing on screen. A sinister email arrived at the TV studios, and it was the first of many. Police traced the emails to a cyber café in Chichester, West Sussex. But hundreds of people used it, so they couldn't identify who'd sent them.

Once I went on maternity leave in August 2006, the emails stopped, but when I returned to work and my second pregnancy started to show on screen in May 2008, they started again. The stalker said they'd rape me, and hoped my baby would die.

Every time one of the emails appeared in the inbox, I was filled with dread. I was constantly on edge and suspicious of everyone.

One of the most frightening aspects of cyber stalking is the perpetrator's anonymity. I didn't know if it was a man or a woman, or if they knew where I lived like they said they did.

The police took the threats seriously and placed an alarm in my house. They even suggested I have a panic room - a secure room that locks down once you're in it - installed. It felt surreal. My husband felt totally powerless. He wanted to protect us all, but there was nothing he could do.

By September 2008, I felt that time was running out for me. One email had said I'd be found hanged. Images of Sharon Tate, who was murdered when she was pregnant in the '60s, flashed through my mind.

Thankfully, a month later, police tracked my stalker while he was on a computer. Alexander Reeve, 25, from Cornwall was arrested and charged with three counts of causing fear, alarm or distress and two counts of communicating false information. He was just a random man who had become obsessed with me after seeing me on the news. He pleaded guilty at the trial in March 2009 and was sentenced to four years and one month in prison.

I felt enormous relief when he was jailed. Stalkers exert control over their victims, many of whom don't go to the police because they're too embarrassed. From my experience I learnt that you have to take the control back. You can't let your stalker ruin your life."

What to do if you think you're being stalked

1. Take it seriously. The Protection From Harassment Act can be used against someone if their conduct causes you to feel fear on more than two occasions.
   
2. If you feel as if you're in danger, contact the police.
   
3. Keep a diary of all incidents, with timings and descriptions, as well as any letters, texts or emails, and pass them on to the police.
   
4. Make sure everyone around you is aware of the situation.
   
5. Look after your basic personal safety. Limit the amount of information that's available about you, use strict privacy settings on any social networking sites you use and tighten up home security.

Stalking: the facts

Who becomes a stalker?

"Any person could become a stalker: old or young, professional or blue-collar," explains Jane Harvey from Surviving Stalking (Nss.org.uk). "But it's usually when a relationship - real or imagined - goes wrong that behaviour tips into stalking. Fifty per cent of stalkers are ex-partners, but they can be a friend, colleague, neighbour, or even someone the victim only knows in a professional capacity, such as a GP or dentist."

Why do they stalk?

According to psychologist Dr Lorraine Sheridan, men are most prone to stalking and there are several reasons why they do it.

Ex-partner stalking: The stalker is angry about being rejected and wants to 'punish' his victim. He is prone to violence.

Sadistic stalking: The stalker sees his victim as prey and wants to make her life miserable, trying to unsettle and scare her.

Delusional-fixation stalking: The stalker often doesn't know his victim very well but is fixated on her, sending her sexual material and believing they have a relationship. Or he projects imaginary romantic fantasies on to her, sending her love letters and hanging around for chance encounters.