Right Girl

by Ellie O'Neill

  ‘The flowers are my work, yes.’

  ‘Wonderful, wonderful.’ He held my gaze. He looked to my wrist, and in a jolly, inquisitive tone asked, ‘How do you find the Waist Watch?’

  I whispered, my voice catching on itself, ‘Unbelievable.’ I let go of his hand.

  ‘It is, isn’t it, Freya?’ His voice was smooth and peaceful. He didn’t break eye contact and neither did I.

  ‘I never told you my name,’ I said calmly, my voice almost monotone.

  He looked around me now, and barely missed a beat. ‘Anna must have mentioned it. With flowers like these we should be on a first-name basis.’ He smiled, each bright white tooth gleaming, and held my gaze, almost steely, then turned and was immediately absorbed into his entourage. They moved as a solid block into the Bondi room.

  Something occurred to me. He was not early to this meeting, he was perfectly on time. He had always been scheduled to meet me only I didn’t know it. It was an ideal opportunity for him to meet one of his case studies, the most loyal of BBesters: a Project Ananke puppet.

  Cat looked over her shoulder and pivoted towards me, whispering, ‘Why did you say that about your name? That’s so weird.’

  Inside I was an explosive volcano. Inside I was twenty- seven sticks of live dynamite. Inside I was a raging bull.

  Outside I shrugged and innocently grinned. ‘I dunno, it just came out. Did I sound weird? I guess I panicked. Have a good meeting.’

  I could download the highlights after.

  38

  I wondered if doing one bad thing was a gateway drug, like when you have your first sip of warm cider in a field, and declare it is disgusting and you couldn’t understand how anyone would ever drink, and then cut to a few years later and you’re elbowing rugby players out of the way like a woman possessed to get to the bar for last orders. I wondered if that was what was going to happen to me now that I had committed a crime, even though I was not entirely sure what my crime was. Was I going to move to South America soon and start a drug cartel, grow a heavy moustache and call myself Beppe? I didn’t know how I was still laughing. Maybe I’d gone mad in the last twenty-four hours, maybe that’s what had happened.

  The good news was that Granddad finally got out of jail. I had a feeling that I was not going to be alone fighting BBest anymore. The bad news – well, there were two lots of bad news. The first was that Patrick had not responded to the five essay-length emails I had sent him in the last three days and the other bit was that I was sitting in a van at the end of a pier on a gritty enclave off the Dublin Docks. This was not a spot I would recommend to tourists. It had an end-of-the-world feel to it, an apocalyptic end-of-the-world feel. The waves were grey and angry and crashed relentlessly against the walls of the pier. The rain had started hours ago and not stopped. I was here to hand over the transmission unit to the speaker and get my next assignment. ‘Assignment’ made it sound like school, didn’t it? Like I was just going to have to do up an English essay or something, or maybe prepare for a spelling test.

  I didn’t know if I wanted to do this again. It was impossible to think I would get away with it a second time. I was not some street-smart flat-capped person who grew up picking a pocket or two, wheeling and dealing in the market place. I obeyed rules – I had never so much as eaten a loose grape from the supermarket without paying for it, even the squishy ones at the bottom of the basket. Honestly I could admit that a little part of me had enjoyed my moment of defiance at BBest. But I had seen what the guards could do, and it was not pretty.

  ‘I want to know more about what’s going on.’

  I had eight minutes in the speaker’s company but I was hopping mad and couldn’t think straight. I had a hundred questions. I wanted to know what was said at that meeting that affected me directly. How had I helped the cause exactly?

  ‘I want to know more about what’s going on,’ I repeated myself.

  ‘No. Absolutely not. It’s not about you.’

  ‘Of course it’s about me.’

  My head fell into my hands and I sighed. ‘I don’t think I’m cut out for this.’

  ‘Go back to your life then.’

  I couldn’t help myself. ‘You really are not a very nice man, has anyone ever told you that?’

  His eyes widened.

  ‘I mean seriously, maybe if you were nicer, you might have cleaned up this whole mess a lot sooner.’

  He smirked slightly at me. ‘This isn’t school. It isn’t a popularity contest.’

  ‘Of course it is, everyone loves RealTime because he’s so nice, or at least he seems nice, but you’re all shouty and mean. You should really work on it.’ I had well and truly removed the filter but I didn’t care, this man needed a dressing down.

  ‘Point taken,’ he mumbled into the collar of his shirt.

  ‘So let’s just say I was interested in helping the movement, what might the next assignment be?’

  The speaker looked straight ahead at the rain falling heavily on the windscreen. ‘We need the data from RealTime’s phone.’

  My disbelief registered as laughter. ‘You have got to be kidding me.’

  He thrust a tiny flash drive into my hand. ‘He has a number of devices, but we need the information off his phone. Insert this drive in the base of the phone and it will copy all of his data in about thirty seconds.’

  ‘Seriously? Why don’t you just ask me to get hold of the Crown Jewels?’ It was too much, they were asking me to climb Everest in a pair of thongs. Didn’t they have someone else who was trained for these things? Who didn’t have an identity? Who lived off the grid in a snow cave and practised karate moves with a bearded mentor? Why were they asking me? I didn’t want to do this.

  He closed his eyes in pure frustration. ‘Don’t forget who you are. He’s already gone out of his way to meet with you. There is a follow-up meeting planned in a few days. You are his plaything right now. This is his pet project.’

  ‘How will the information help?’

  ‘We’ll take it through the courts – we need to go through the proper systems.’

  ‘Won’t that take years?’

  ‘It could.’

  I let this sink in. ‘But it can’t take years. By this time next year, I could be married to Mason. Ugh.’

  ‘The problems are a lot bigger than your wedding.’

  ‘Not to me, they’re not. To me that is the biggest possible problem.’ Realisation suddenly dawned on me. ‘Hang on a minute, what if I’m caught?’

  ‘You’ve seen his army. It would not be good.’

  ‘No. I don’t suppose so.’ I paused, unsure of everything. ‘I don’t know how to do this.’

  My concern fell on deaf ears. The speaker blew air through his lips in a dismissive gesture. ‘This is a war. Everybody is pushed to their maximum abilities. Don’t come to me for sympathy.’

  ‘Hey, hey, come on,’ I said. ‘Remember, you’re going to be nice, and then I’ll be nice back.’

  He blushed slightly. ‘I’m sorry, you’re right, I just get so caught up in the moment. And you know, I’m the leader, so . . .’

  ‘Leaders don’t have to be horrible.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll give it a go.’

  He got out of the van and slammed the door behind him, and I wondered what I had agreed to do.

  39

  The smell of cigarette smoke was making my heart soar. We were back in the bookstore. Granddad was behind his desk, inhaling heavily and peering down his nose at his ledger, grumbling about loss of business. Even though it was spring, the fire was roaring in the hearth, and the crackle and spit of wood burning was invigorating. I had collapsed on a creaky old armchair, happy and desperately trying not to think about the hopeless text message I’d received from Patrick.

  Please, Freya, no more emails. We obviously both made a mistake.

  I’d stared at it dismally for half the morning, believing that surely there must be more to it. I closed the text and opened i
t again, waiting for another paragraph with some hint of forgiveness, maybe even a chance of friendship, to appear, that had somehow got lost in cyber space. And not what it said, which, reading between the two pathetic lines, told me was a straight up two fingers to me. I was devastated.

  Mam appeared from the kitchen with cups of tea, which she dutifully placed in our hands.

  ‘Don’t ever do that to us again.’ Mam rubbed Granddad warmly across the shoulders and pretended to chastise him like a child.

  He fixed his eyes on her. ‘I didn’t do anything.’

  I shifted a little in my chair. I had not been alone with Granddad yet, so there had been no opportunity for me to talk to him.

  Mam ran her hands through her hair. ‘Well, Dad, you have a track record of getting into trouble for not doing anything, so just don’t go doing nothing again.’ She looked stern.

  ‘The bastards kept me there against my will for two whole weeks, they took my freedom.’

  ‘Why, Granddad?’ I asked abruptly.

  ‘Bastards, that’s why.’

  ‘No.’ I shook my head and paused, waiting to hear him say the word ‘Luddites’.

  He swung his arms in the air, a little annoyed with me, then stopped to pull on his nose. He mumbled quietly into his hand, ‘It was some mix-up at customs.’

  Mam and I glanced at each other and then back to him.

  ‘Oh for God’s sake, you two, stop looking at me like that.’

  ‘Well . . . I . . .’ Mam couldn’t get the words out.

  ‘Calm down.’ He took a long breath. ‘A crate of books arrived at Dublin Docks addressed for the shop, happens all the time, I get deliveries all the time. Except this time, customs, in their measly-minded sense of what is right and wrong, decided that some of the book titles were inappropriate.’ Granddad rolled his eyes.

  ‘What?’ Mam looked confused.

  ‘Banned books?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes.’ Granddad nodded. ‘That’s where our society is going. They want to tell us what we can read. I won’t stand for it.’ He pointed his finger in the air.

  ‘Did you know they were banned? Why would you order them?’

  ‘No. There isn’t some list out there, that would be far too obvious, but there are certain titles that are a red flag.’

  ‘A red flag?’ Mam uttered.

  ‘Inappropriate material that might pinpoint a free thinker,’ he said proudly.

  ‘Enough chest beating, Granddad,’ I said. ‘So that’s what happened, you were arrested over books?’

  ‘Well kind of . . .’ He wobbled his hand from side to side. ‘The guards wanted the name of the distributor. I wouldn’t give it to them. They couldn’t hold me for any longer, either, because I never actually received the books.’

  ‘Books? Books?’ Mam put two fingers to her brow and rubbed repeatedly. ‘Books fall under this Terrorism Act? It’s madness. That’s what you were held for? It’s madness.’

  ‘I’m going to sue them, I’m going to sue the whole bloody government and bring them down!’ Granddad shouted. He pounded his fist on the desk and winked at me.

  I clapped my hands in delight. ‘I’ll carry your papers to court. Let’s get these bastards.’

  Mam tutted loudly. ‘You two, you’re like peas in a pod. You’re a bad influence on each other.’ She had a mildly dreamy expression on her face, relieved, I’m sure, that this was all over.

  ‘What was the name of that crowd of useless lawyers Colin had?’ Granddad was grinning, excited at the prospect of another fight.

  ‘Beachum and Foyles.’

  ‘I bet they’ll take my case, I’ll talk to them about it.’

  ‘You’re okay, though, Dad, aren’t you? I mean, you look good but do you feel good? Were they good to you?’

  ‘It was fine. I won’t do it again. That was officially my last stint.’

  ‘I’ll kill you if you do anything like that again.’

  ‘I didn’t do anything.’ Granddad looked down at his papers and then back to the two of us. ‘So, what have I missed here?’

  I wanted to laugh out loud at how inexplicably life had changed in the two weeks he had been away. Instead I decided to start with the good news.

  ‘Well, for starters, Mam has a new boyfriend.’

  ‘Oh, stop.’ She raced towards me, throwing her hands in the air as if to catch the excitement, then she twirled around. ‘“Boyfriend” makes us sound young and giddy and foolish.’

  I was surprised at just how delighted and happy she looked. ‘Aren’t you?’

  ‘Well, we’re not young. But I think we are giddy and foolish,’ she said proudly. ‘Seventy-four per cent, you know.’ She wore the number like a badge, she got comfort from it, and I didn’t want to rip that from her. ‘We’re – well, I think you could say we’re serious. I just think when you’re older, things move faster.’

  ‘When do I get to meet him?’ Granddad asked, furrowing his brow and pretending to be suspicious.

  ‘Soon, I think. I’m meeting him for lunch in about twenty minutes. Actually, I should probably go.’ She looked at her watch. ‘Is that okay? Will you be okay, Dad?’

  ‘Go, go.’ I ushered her out. ‘He’s fine, I’ll make us some sandwiches for lunch.’

  ‘I probably should.’ She picked up her jacket and swung it over her shoulders.

  I was happy to see her leave – I could not wait to talk to Granddad. We watched as she left, and listened to the familiar sound of the bell chiming at the door. I waited maybe thirty seconds before pouncing.

  ‘I know,’ I said.

  I watched as a flash of realisation slowly crossed his face.

  ‘Thank you.’

  He shook his head slightly, and closed his eyes. ‘How did you . . .?’

  ‘Well, Patrick Rockford was the start.’ I felt my colour rise slightly when I said his name, and just like that, the dam opened for me. ‘I went on a few dates with him, Granddad. We have such a connection, I really think he is the man for me, but I made such a mess of things, and now he won’t even answer my emails. And I keep thinking about what you said about soul mates, and I think . . . I think he could be mine, but if he is, have I destroyed it? Can you ruin your own destiny by being a stupid idiot?’ I realised I was jibber-jabbering and actually there were more important things to talk about than my stupid actions. ‘I’m sorry, I–’

  ‘Don’t ever apologise for your feelings, Freya.’ Granddad took a long drag of a cigarette and exhaled a plume of smoke across the room. ‘I don’t know if you can ruin your destiny. I know life can be hard and no one is perfect, and you’re not the first person to make mistakes in love. I remember your grandmother used to say, “If it’s meant for you it won’t pass you by.” If he really is your soul mate, Freya, he’ll be back.’

  ‘I hope so,’ I whispered.

  Granddad pushed his weight onto his elbows and leaned over his desk. ‘Tell me now, tell me about BBest, tell me what’s happening. What’s really happening?’

  And I was off. I didn’t hold back, I released the full battle cry: my distrust of BBest; the Ananke project; the Luddites; RealTime; Mason; Mardi and Colin. I didn’t stop for breath, I ranted and shouted and whispered. I was up off my chair, I flopped back on it, I waved my hands, I held my head in them. I fished into my pocket and slammed the flash drive onto his desk.

  ‘This is my next assignment.’

  I watched as he pushed back his chair and stood up. He momentarily rested his hands on his desk and then walked around it towards me. He didn’t say a word, just stretched his arms out and held them open. I stepped into his chest and let him embrace me, my cheek against his itchy woolly jumper. He gently patted my head.

  ‘I am so proud of you.’

  ‘Really?’ I spluttered and broke away from him.

  ‘You have found your own way back to you. This is who you really are, Freya, you were always the girl who fought against the system, you never went along with the status quo. You always questioned
what was going on.’ His cheeks were flushed with pride.

  ‘I did?’

  ‘Yes, I mean, not recently because of this bloody BBest debacle, but before you got caught up in all that.’

  I sat down. ‘How did I end up on the Ananke project, Granddad?’

  He propped himself on the edge of his desk, his hands rubbing his thighs absentmindedly. ‘Ananke? I don’t know how you ended up on that – I was shocked when my contacts informed me that you were part of it. But honestly, Freya, you let a lot of that happen, you lost a little piece of yourself in trying to please other people, and trying to do what they thought was the right thing.’

  ‘Dad.’ I looked up at him and saw that he looked a little sad. ‘You mean Dad, don’t you? That I was trying to please him.’

  ‘We’re all guilty of that kind of thing, don’t worry about it. The point is you can see clearly now. You’re back, and my God, you’re going to take them by storm. BBest are not going to know what hit them.’ He punched his fists in the air victoriously.

  ‘So you think I should get RealTime’s phone?’

  ‘Abso-bloody-lutely. Let’s take this shower down.’

  40

  Granddad and I stayed up late into the night, talking for hours. We talked for long enough to crack into the whiskey and then back into the tea again. I learned so much about him and his double life – and he had had a double life, there was no doubt about it. He had been deeply involved with the Luddites for years. He had spearheaded a number of protests and campaigns for them. He also – and this nearly shocked me more than anything – was an adept computer programmer and hacker. He winked at me and said, ‘You have to know your enemy.’ It clearly kept him young and energised. The hunt, the chase – he loved it.

  We concocted a plan of attack that was so farfetched and outrageous that if it was a movie, it would be called something like The Two Idiots, with the tag line: ‘How an old man and his granddaughter tried to bring down the biggest corporation in the world, and unsurprisingly, failed’. But as hopeless as it all was, there was a vague glimmer that maybe it was worth a shot. The Luddites had a plan but it was to follow the correct legal procedures and it was years and years away from fruition. The fact of the matter was, I didn’t have that time. If I didn’t at least try to do something now, I would be pushed down the aisle into an open marriage, screaming all the way. We had a small window of attack. We had everything to gain and nothing to lose. And so we launched Operation: The Two Idiots.