The Beginner's Guide to Loneliness

by Laura Bambrey

  ‘It’s fun! An unexpected adventure. And anyway, you’d have done exactly the same for us!’ says Sue.

  I think about this, and realize that she’s right. Hugh, Sue and, until yesterday, the fictional Nat are three people that I would have done almost anything for.

  It’s a wonderful feeling when I realize that, since I’ve been here, several new people have joined that list. And right at the top is Bay.

  ‘You know I can’t just call Bay, right?’ I say into the dark.

  ‘Why not?’ asks Hugh, surprised. ‘You’ve got the number, and you can use my phone. No one else needs to know.’

  ‘It’s not that,’ I say. ‘I need to see him. It’s got to be face to face.’

  ‘Oh.’ Hugh goes quiet.

  ‘Well, he might come back in time,’ says Sue in a soothing voice.

  ‘I need to go back to London. As soon as possible,’ I say, surprising myself. ‘Do you reckon you could give me a lift down to Carmarthen tomorrow? I can catch the train from there—’

  ‘Nope,’ says Hugh. ‘Think we’re going to let you escape our clutches that quickly?’

  ‘But—’ I start.

  ‘I’ll drive you to London. You up for another road trip, Sue?’

  ‘Oooh, yes!’ she squeals. ‘I’ve got a few days to play with so—’

  ‘Guys, you don’t need to do that.’

  ‘Oh yes we do!’ says Hugh.

  ‘Absolutely. I need to know how it’s going to work out with you and your sex-god gardener!’

  ‘What about your course, though? You won’t get to finish it,’ says Hugh.

  ‘I think I’ve got quite a lot to write about already. And anyway, if everything goes to plan, perhaps I’ll get the chance to come back in time to finish it off.’

  ‘So what are we going to do tomorrow? Say goodbye to everyone and then head off after breakfast?’ asks Sue.

  My heart clenches at the thought of saying goodbye to Geoff and Doreen earlier than I have to. But I have to see Bay, I just have to. ‘I don’t think so. We’re going to have to make a break for it early, otherwise I’m not sure that Ted and Lizzie will let us escape.’

  ‘When you say early . . .’

  ‘Ted’s usually up at 5.30am.’

  ‘With a newborn baby in the house you might find either of them up at any hour,’ says Hugh.

  ‘Good point. We need a distraction.’

  ‘The car is parked up at the top of the lane, so it’s just going to be a case of sneaking past the house,’ says Hugh.

  ‘How about Rowan?’ asks Sue. ‘She could be a lookout for us.’

  ‘How on earth are we going to ask her now?’

  ‘I’ve got her number,’ says Hugh. ‘I took it so that I could let her know when we would be arriving.’

  ‘Perfect,’ I say. ‘Oh, and ask her to break my stuff out of the safe while she’s at it.’

  Chapter 35

  Survive vs Thrive

  ‘Are you surviving or are you thriving? What’s the difference? Surviving is an incredible achievement. You are pulling together the resources that you need to stay afloat. Surviving through some of the toughest times in life feels like a badge of honour.

  ‘But thriving? Thriving means tapping into your potential. It’s about joy and abundance. It’s about growth.’

  ©TheBeginnersGuideToLoneliness.com

  *

  I feel kind of bad as we scuttle down the yard towards the lane at ridiculous o’clock the next morning. I should be saying goodbye to everyone, thanking them for basically changing my whole life.

  I can’t think like that now, though, otherwise I’ll be crying again, and a tearful mess at five forty in the morning is not a good start.

  Instead, I comfort myself with the thought that, if everything pans out, I’ll be back soon enough to finish off the course.

  ‘Thanks so much for everything,’ I whisper as Rowan hands me the little bag with my shoes, phone and other bits and pieces from the safe.

  ‘You owe me!’ she yawns. She looks so much younger when she’s all crumpled from sleep and sans make-up.

  ‘I’ve already sent you twenty quid!’ I say.

  ‘You still owe me! Dad’s going to do his nut when he knows you’ve done a runner.’

  ‘Let us know what happens, won’t you?’ says Hugh.

  ‘Sure.’ Rowan yawns again, turning back towards her bed with a wave over her shoulder.

  ‘You know, I think Ted’s going to be more worried about his safe-breaking daughter than you disappearing after Bay,’ Sue chuckles quietly. ‘Come on, guys, let’s get going.’

  *

  The journey feels like a breeze compared to the public transport marathon from hell it took to get me there. The best thing is, we don’t stop talking until we reach the outskirts of the city. I may have only physically met these two yesterday, but there’s no doubt that our friendship is real.

  It might feel like we’ve talked about everything under the sun, but there are two subjects we’ve carefully been avoiding: Bay and Nat.

  Gah, I’ve got to stop calling him Nat or Than in my head.

  Nathan. Catfishing, bullshitting Nathan.

  ‘Guys, what am I going to do about Nathan?’ I finally ask when there’s a lull in the conversation. ‘I know what I said about not pressing charges, but it doesn’t feel right to just let him get away with what he’s done.’

  ‘If it was me, I’d want to get even,’ says Sue over her shoulder, peering at me in the back seat.

  ‘You know,’ says Hugh, not taking his eyes off the busy road, ‘I think it’s about more than that. This is someone who’s successfully befriended the three of us while posing as someone else. For whatever reason, it looks like he has become completely obsessed with you, Tori, and when he didn’t get what he wanted, he turned nasty.’

  ‘Actually, if you think about it, how he behaved towards you at the retreat kind of mirrored what he was like in the chat,’ says Sue. ‘Nat swooped in and isolated you from the main chat almost as soon as you’d joined, and I don’t think she – he – ever forgave me and Hugh for crashing your private group.’

  I raise my eyebrows. Hindsight is a wonderful thing. I can see now that Sue’s right.

  ‘But how does that mirror what he was doing at The Farm?’ I ask, confused.

  ‘From what you said, he started to get all stroppy when he saw you were making friends with the others,’ says Sue.

  ‘Yeah. I mean, he was definitely jealous of your friendship with Doreen,’ says Hugh. ‘And it sounds like he tried to isolate you as often as he could, and acted out when his plans didn’t work.’

  ‘Well, he got the ultimate revenge, didn’t he?’ I say, shivering.

  ‘No. No, he didn’t,’ Sue says, her voice firm. ‘The only way he will have done that is if you let him undo all the amazing things you’ve achieved while you’ve been at The Farm.’

  I nod. ‘So, do you think I should go to the police?’

  ‘Not if you don’t want to go down that route,’ says Hugh, thoughtfully, ‘but I do think that, as he has gone public about his time with you, you’d be well within your rights to do the same to him.’

  ‘Out him?’

  ‘Yes. And while you’re at it, raise some awareness.’

  Sue’s nodding in agreement. ‘We’re three relatively sensible adults—’

  ‘Speak for yourself,’ I laugh.

  ‘What I mean is,’ she continues, ‘if he’s doing it, there must be others targeting kids and vulnerable people who rely on the internet as their main source of interaction.’

  ‘More people like me . . .’ I say, realizing that’s probably what had drawn him to me in the first place – the fact that I’m deeply vulnerable. Desperate. A fuck-up. No, let’s rephrase that. The fact that, until very recently, I was a fuck-up. Now . . . now I’m more of a work-in-progress.

  ‘Well, yes,’ says Hugh. ‘I mean, what’s to stop him from doing it again?’

  ‘No
thing,’ I say. ‘But even if I do write about this, he might do it again anyway.’

  ‘You haven’t got any control over what he does, but you have got complete control of how you respond to him.’

  I sit back and think about this. By outing me as the blogger behind The Beginner’s Guide to Loneliness, he’s forced me to take ownership and go public with my most intimate thoughts. I mean, they were already out there, but their connection to me wasn’t. It should have been my choice, and he’s taken that away from me.

  ‘You’re right!’ I say. ‘I need to respond publicly, and it has to be on my blog.’

  ‘Perfect idea,’ says Hugh enthusiastically. ‘I mean, after all the extra exposure from Nathan’s piece, your readership is bound to be even higher than usual now. May as well take what he’s caused and use it to get your own back!’

  I hadn’t even thought about what this drama might have done to the site itself. Sure, most of the new readers will probably be visiting out of morbid curiosity, hoping to find out more about this man-addicted slut-bag that Nathan’s presented, but then, surely, that makes them the perfect audience to reach out to with my reply.

  *

  Getting back to my flat is a bit of an eye-opener. Of course, I’ve invited Sue and Hugh to stay. It’s not going to be the most comfortable visit – Sue’s going to have to share my double bed and Hugh will take the sofa – but it’s not that that’s bothering me. It’s the fact that this place could be anyone’s. It’s an anonymous, colourless space with absolutely no personality or warmth. I can’t even compare it to a hotel room, because at least hotels attempt to make you feel comfortable.

  I dump my bag in the corner of the living room and turn to see both Hugh and Sue looking around with something close to dismay on both their faces.

  ‘I’ll completely understand if you’d prefer to stay in a hotel,’ I say quickly. ‘I know it’s a bit—’

  ‘No, it’s great!’ says Sue, her voice too bright.

  ‘Yeah. We want to be with you, Tori!’ says Hugh.

  ‘Well . . . thanks,’ I say.

  ‘I like what you’ve done with the place,’ he says.

  I snort. I can’t help it.

  Hugh’s lips are twitching, and Sue clearly doesn’t know whether she should join in or keep up the polite facade.

  ‘It’s just a bit . . .’

  ‘Bare?’ I say.

  ‘No . . . just . . . I’d never know you were the person living here. You’ve got so much energy and personality; you’re so full of ideas and creativity and this place is . . .’

  ‘Crap,’ I finish for her.

  ‘I didn’t say that!’ she says, looking worried.

  ‘No, but I did. Thing is, it’s taken this break for me to be able to see it properly. Seems like I really did keep myself for “online only”,’ I sigh.

  ‘But look how much has happened in such a short time. Just shows how fast things can change!’ says Hugh.

  I think he’s trying to be encouraging, but I want to point out that having my privacy violated online, followed by Bay disappearing on me, weren’t quite the changes I’d been hoping for. I keep my mouth shut. The flat is depressing enough, without me adding to it.

  ‘Look, I know it’s a bit shit. You guys sure you’re still up for staying here?’

  Both of them nod.

  ‘Okay.’ I take a deep breath and look around at the familiar bare walls, plain carpet and minimal furniture. ‘I can’t believe I was so worried about not scraping the rent together. Let’s face it, not being able to stay in this place isn’t exactly a big deal, is it?!’

  ‘You thinking of maybe moving after your adventure?’ asks Hugh.

  ‘Not maybe. Definitely. I can write from anywhere, and this place doesn’t fit the new me. The real me.’

  *

  The rest of the morning disappears in a haze as we struggle to combat the after-effects of our early morning dash from Wales. After an emergency supplies run to the local Tesco Express, we nurse ourselves with coffee and bacon sandwiches.

  The question of what exactly I’m going to do about Bay, now that we’ve travelled across the country for me to see him, is looming large. Although neither of the other two have mentioned it, I know they’re waiting for me to bring it up.

  I really should get on and call that number on Bay’s website, but there’s something holding me back.

  Our level of gossip has died right down with the wave of sleepiness that engulfs us after our lunch. I’m slumped in the armchair and the other two are on the sofa. Sue has slipped her shoes off and is sitting with her feet cosily tucked up under her bum. Hugh has his arms behind his head, legs outstretched in front of him and his eyes are almost closed.

  ‘Right!’ I say, practically leaping to my feet.

  The other two jump.

  ‘Sorry, sorry!’ I laugh.

  ‘“Right” what?’ asks Hugh, watching as I start to pace the room. Exactly two and a half strides one way. Turn. Two point five strides the other.

  ‘I know what I need to do,’ I say triumphantly.

  ‘Call Bay?’ asks Sue.

  ‘Nope. I really want to, but first, I need to write that blog post.’

  ‘You do? First?’ asks Hugh surprised.

  ‘Yep. Close that particular chapter of crap and draw a line under it. Whatever happens next with Bay, I don’t want it to have anything to do with the whole Nathan Jones mess.’

  ‘And if it doesn’t work out between you?’

  ‘Then it was something really lovely while it lasted, and I still don’t want it to get mixed up in my head with Nathan’s shite.’

  ‘Great. Okay, so . . .’ Hugh’s at a loss. He’s great when there’s something practical to help with, but I can see he’s wondering what to do until he’s given his next superman mission.

  ‘Look . . . this is going to be incredibly boring for you two while I obsess over getting every word right,’ I say. What I really want to ask is if they’d mind buggering off and doing a spot of sightseeing for a couple of hours. That way, I’d know my guests were enjoying themselves while I’d get the peace and quiet I need to get the job done.

  ‘Ooh . . . do you mean we can go sightseeing without looking like we’re being really rude?’ Sue grins. It seems she’s a mind reader.

  ‘If you’d like to? Or just chill out, or—’

  ‘I’d like to go sightseeing!’ says Hugh, suddenly looking wide awake. ‘Of course, it won’t be the same without you, but maybe we’ll get to hang out together when you’re done, Tori?’

  ‘Sounds like a plan,’ I grin at them, loving how excited they are.

  ‘EEEK! This is amazing! Unexpected me-time and the whole London experience too?’ Sue is on her feet, hopping up and down while yanking clothes out of her bag. ‘Tori, can I use your bathroom to get ready?’ she asks.

  ‘Of course!’

  While Sue’s changing, I dig out a Tube map for Hugh and arrange to meet up with them this evening at the Italian restaurant just around the corner.

  The minute the door closes behind them, I rush through to my tiny office and fire up my laptop. I log into my blog and let out a gasp. Hugh was right. The number of page hits since Nathan’s article went live has been insane. I feel a little bit sick all of a sudden. All those people reading what I’ve written. All those people knowing so much about me . . .

  Use it. That’s all I can do. Use this platform to tell them what really happened. And anyway, there’s nothing on here I should be ashamed of. There’s some incredibly tough stuff, things I wish I’d never had to deal with. But this isn’t an ideal world, and these things did happen to me. And if they happened to me, I’m certain they’ve happened to other people too.

  There are hundreds of comments waiting for approval, but, for now, I need to get straight to the task in hand.

  Dear Readers.

  A big hello to all you lovely regulars, and welcome to all the new faces too.

  As I’m sure most of you a
lready know, I’ve recently been on a retreat to The Farm in west Wales. I’ll be back next week to share more about the incredible, life-changing work they do there. But, rather a lot has happened while I’ve been away and, right now, that’s what I need to talk to you about.

  As you will have seen, the big secret is out and I am no longer able to remain anonymous. My name is Tori Williamson, I am 33 years old and currently live in London. If you don’t know what on earth I’m talking about and why I’ve just so casually revealed my closely guarded secret, you need to have a read of this article by Nathan Jones before we go any further. Go on . . . follow the link . . . I’ll wait.

  *

  I paste in the link to Nathan’s piece and take a deep breath. Here goes.

  *

  The first thing you need to know about Nathan Jones is that we have been friends online for two years. The second thing you need to know is that I didn’t know him as Nathan. I knew him as a thirty- one-year-old female called Nathalie. Nathalie was one of my best friends, and was, in fact, the one who encouraged me to start up this blog in the first place. Unfortunately, Nathalie was completely fictional – an alias used by Nathan Jones to gain my trust and friendship.

  *

  By the time I’ve finished writing about the chatroom, ‘Nathalie’ encouraging me to go on the retreat, ‘Than’ befriending me and trying to initiate a physical relationship, and then Nathan sharing my identity along with my innermost secrets with the world, I’m shaking. But I’ve come this far, and I’ve got one more thing to say about him.

  *

  The questions I keep asking myself, over and over again, are: why did he target me in the first place? Why, after two years, did this catfish finally decide to meet me? And what was he hoping to achieve? I guess I’ll never know the answers. The one thing I do know for sure is that a lot of his motivation for this final betrayal seems to have been revenge. What for? For rejecting him. For saying no. And for being romantically interested in someone else.

  Nathan Jones tried to paint me as a deranged man-eater. When I got to The Farm, I was incredibly lonely – as my faithful readers will already know, and as you will have gathered from the title of this blog. With all his knowledge of me gathered over a long ‘friendship’, it didn’t take much for Nathan to create a closeness between us. But at the same time I was learning how to make friends and to value the amazing people I was surrounded by. I was also opening my heart up for the first time in several years.