Former ITV newsreader and podcast host Isla Traquair, 43, explains how life was torn apart by her neighbour
WORDS: HELEN RENSHAW. PHOTOS: GETTY, SHUTTERSTOCK
When I bought my dream home in the Cotswolds in autumn 2020, I planned to write and work in a peaceful environment. But peace was the last thing I experienced in that house.
The nightmare started before I even had the house keys. I asked the departing owner’s permission to park outside so I could take my disabled mum for a walk. We returned to find a van had blocked my car and then a man appeared, aggressively accusing me of trespassing and letting my dog foul on his property. I was stunned – it was complete rubbish.
UNWANTED PRESENCE
The man was Jonathan Barrett, and he was my neighbour. The next time I saw him he was full of apologies and friendly, which appeased me. I was there every day renovating the property before moving in, and his unhealthy interest became more and more worrying. He was constantly around, offering unsolicited advice. Every time I went into the garden, he was there. Watching me.
One day I was listening to a podcast, wearing headphones, when he suddenly appeared in the house. He’d climbed over the wall and walked in through the conservatory. I had workmen around so there were people coming and going, but realising it was him gave me a massive fright. Another time he appeared, coming in and saying: ‘You haven’t eaten yet, have you?’ Then he insisted on making me a sandwich despite me saying no. I tried to set boundaries, but was scared of offending him. Even polite rebuffs seemed to antagonise him and the stalking escalated.
On the first morning after moving in, I woke while it was still dark and went to wash my face in the kitchen sink. I looked up to find him staring at me through the window, like in a horror movie. Soon he was standing on an elevated spot in his garden, in just a dressing gown, looking into my bedroom. He’d hide in the bushes or stand in the darkness, looking in. Instead of enjoying my beautiful view, I put mirror film on my windows and kept the blinds down. I was too on-edge to leave my conservatory door open, do the gardening, walk my dog or even wear certain clothes.
When my friends visited, he’d be outside listening. I put up a bamboo privacy screen, but he flew into a rage and butchered my hedge. I reported him to the police, who told me to install expensive fences, security cameras, alarms and new locks. I did my part, but felt my fear was b
