It Started With A Tweet

by Anna Bell

  I close my eyes to hold the tears at bay. ‘That isn’t really me,’ I say. ‘It was all out of context, and those pictures aren’t what they seem.’

  ‘They looked like you to me.’

  ‘Well, it was me, but it was a hen do. The theme was “slutty”; I had to dress like that, and the provocative posts were from a game we were playing. I only posted them for our friend Amelie.’

  Jack shakes his head.

  ‘But you could have sent her those pictures or messages rather than posting them for the world to see. No wonder you found it so difficult to go offline, if you were constantly telling everyone what you were doing.’

  ‘But I’m not like that anymore, this detox has changed me. I admit that I used to spend far too much time on social media, and I was probably as addicted as my sister told me I was. But still, those tweets and pictures aren’t a reflection of me, not the real me.’

  ‘I don’t know what to believe. I mean, the tweet that got you fired . . .’

  I can barely look at him.

  ‘You made me think you left because of stress.’

  ‘The tweet was only supposed to be a joke, I didn’t even mean it. I mean, the guy was vile, and –’

  Jack stands up to walk away.

  ‘Hey,’ I shout, calling him back. ‘You know, you’re the one who told me off for listening to things that other people said. Why didn’t you ask me about this? And how did you even find it in the first place, were you looking me up online?’ I shake my head as he doesn’t deny it. ‘If you’re so into the truth, why don’t you tell me what you really do, and why Liz and Gerry are always seeing you with so many women? I’m beginning to think that I should be calling you Jack Bigalow.’

  I sound like an American teenager auditioning for a part in Mean Girls. But I can’t help it.

  ‘Oh right, I’m a male escort, am I? Is that what Gerry and Liz would have you believe?’

  ‘I’m struggling to think of another profession that would have you hanging around so many women. I mean, what other explanation is there?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ says Jack, sighing. ‘How about because I’m a psychologist, specialising in abusive relationships. And ninety-nine per cent of my clients are women?’

  Bugger. That’s a much better explanation.

  ‘If that’s true,’ I say, ‘then why don’t you tell the villagers?’

  ‘Because I give my clients anonymity. A lot of them are going through extremely sensitive episodes in their lives, and I don’t want the villagers to be speculating about what their problems are and gossiping about them. Especially if one of them is from the village.’

  ‘Like Jenny,’ I say in a whisper.

  He nods and I hang my head in shame. ‘Jack, I’m sorry, I jumped to conclusions.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ he says. ‘I don’t care at all.’

  His words slice through me, how can he not? ‘But our letters, I thought we were . . .’ I trail off, suddenly feeling stupid. That’s twice in one night I’ve been sucked into thinking that a man is something he’s not. He was playing me, just like Alexis.

  ‘Right, then, I see. Obviously I was wrong.’

  ‘You obviously were,’ he says snappily. ‘You’ll just have to make do with Alexis now.’

  ‘I don’t want him,’ I say shaking my head. ‘I never really wanted him.’

  Jack shakes his head and it makes me even angrier that he won’t listen to how I feel about him and who I really am, and who I’ve really become.

  ‘I’m going back to London tomorrow.’

  For a second, I feel as if his mask drops, as he looks a little shocked. But his expression soon hardens again.

  ‘Of course you are,’ he says, with a bitter laugh. ‘Going back to your real life, as all this is just fantasy. Oh well, at least I’ll be able to go about my business and not find that you’ve got yourself stuck in some stupid situation you need rescuing from.’

  I wish I had some witty retort, but my powers of sarcasm fail me. Short of sticking out my tongue, I’ve got nothing.

  Jack turns to leave as Rosie runs towards us.

  ‘Hey, hey,’ I say, instantly jolted by the tears streaming down her face. ‘Where’s Ru?’

  ‘He took the car,’ she says in between hiccups and tears. ‘He was so mad. He said he was going home. And now I’ve got to get back to the farm. I’ll pick up the Land Rover and I’ll –’

  ‘Woah, woah, woah, you’ll do no such thing. You drank as much of that punch as I did.’

  ‘But I’ve got to get back to the farm, I mean, maybe he regrets what was said and he went back there.’

  ‘I’ll drive you,’ says Jack.

  ‘Oh, of course, you will,’ I snap. ‘Anything to play the knight in shining armour. We’ll be fine, we’ll get a taxi.’

  ‘What are you doing?’ says Rosie, looking at me as if I’m suddenly speaking Dothraki. ‘Why can’t Jack give us a lift? It’s practically on his doorstep. Besides, I don’t think we’ll be able to get a taxi.’

  ‘You’d have a long wait at this time of night, almost pub chucking-out time. Of course, you’re welcome to walk, Daisy.’

  ‘Oh, you’d love that. So you could drive back afterwards like a white knight and pick me up? No, I’ll come now and save you the gloating.’

  We march silently to his four-by-four, Rosie sniffling through the tears as she tries to get them under control, and me silently fuming and replaying the argument with Jack over and over in my mind.

  It feels like being back in that tube compartment with Dickhead Dominic, the tension equally as palpable.

  Jack doesn’t seem any more enamoured with being in the car with me than I am with him, and we seem to make it back to the farm in record time. He barely gives us time to get out before he’s pulled off again and gone screeching up the drive.

  ‘Come on, Rosie,’ I say tugging at her sleeve. I think she genuinely thought Rupert’s car would be here in the courtyard. ‘Let’s get you a nice cup of tea, yeah? I’m sure he’ll come back to speak to you.’

  I practically drag Rosie into the kitchen, which is surprisingly difficult as she’s digging her heels in like a stubborn mule.

  I open the kitchen door and almost break my neck on the large backpack lying on the floor.

  ‘I’m sorry, I was going to move them,’ says Alexis. ‘I’m getting my stuff together as I’ll go at sunrise tomorrow. I was going to see if the pub ’ad a room, but I rang and it is full because of the dance.’

  ‘You’re leaving too?’ says Rosie, ‘I’m going to be all alone.’

  ‘Hey, I can stay if you want, for a bit,’ I say, wondering if I could move my interview to later in the week. I’m sure the MD wouldn’t mind, and Rupert’s bound to have come to his senses by then.

  ‘You’d stay for me?’ she asks looking at me hopefully.

  ‘Of course I would.’

  I might want nothing more than to put as many miles between me and Jack right now, but my sister needs me.

  ‘I could stay too,’ says Alexis, and as I take Rosie into my arms for a hug, I give him a stare that lets him know he’s about as welcome as a case of herpes.

  He slopes off upstairs, presumably to pack some more.

  ‘Thanks for staying, Daisy, you have no idea how much it means to me. I know I conned you into coming, and we probably weren’t each other’s first choices of housemates, but it’s been so great having you here. I know you can’t stay forever . . .’ the word seems to catch in her throat and she stops.

  ‘I’ll stay for as long as you need me. I’m sure I could arrange for Erica to come up here. She’ll probably want to get away anyway.’

  ‘We could run Heartbroken Hotel,’ she says, half snorting a laugh.

  I release her from the hug, and go over to fill the kettle from the sink when I start to hear a buzzing sound. I bat my head, thinking that there must be a midge around me, but then I realise it’s coming from the cupboard under the sink.


  ‘What’s that noise?’ I say, straining my ears to hear it better.

  ‘What noise?’ says Rosie blowing her nose.

  ‘That one.’

  It sounds awfully like a mobile phone, and I bloody hope she can hear it as otherwise I’m going a bit nuts and I’m imagining phone noises again. I thought I’d got over hearing that in the first few days of my detox.

  ‘I don’t hear anything,’ she says.

  Probably because she’s still doing that thing when you’ve been crying and you keep half hiccupping and half sniffing involuntarily.

  ‘It’s coming from in here,’ I say, opening the cupboard, and the buzzing gets louder.

  ‘Where’s my cup of tea? Why don’t you make that now?’ she says, in the most diva-like way I’ve ever heard from my sister. ‘I’ll find the noise.’

  ‘It’s OK. I’m here now.’

  The yellow bucket at the back appears to be vibrating on its own and I stuff my hand in the dish cloths, trying to find what’s causing it.

  ‘It’s probably a mouse,’ says Rosie coming up behind me and causing me to snap my fingers out immediately.

  ‘It sounds too mechanical to be a mouse,’ I say, dubiously.

  I put my hand in again and Rosie practically rugby tackles me to the ground, but I’ve managed to capture the source of the noise in my hand.

  A mobile phone.

  ‘What’s this?’ I say staring at it, even though it’s blatantly obvious. ‘Do you recognise it, Rosie?’

  ‘No, I’ve never seen it before in my life. It must be Alexis’s phone.’

  ‘No, his is the Samsung one with the big crack on the back of his case . . .’ I stop, realising that I’m probably incriminating myself. ‘No, I’ve seen his around and this isn’t it.’

  ‘Maybe he’s got two phones; he was being secretive dating lots of women and gaining information, maybe he’s got multiple phones to keep up with multiple girlfriends.’

  I gasp. I knew he was sneaky, but not that sneaky. Of course, that makes total sense. Until I turn the phone over and see who the missed call was from: RU

  ‘Um, Rosie, if it’s Alexis’s phone, why is your husband calling him?’

  ‘Maybe to give him a piece of his mind,’ she says, playing with a loose thread on her sleeve.

  ‘And he managed to get the number for Alexis’s secret phone, how?’

  Rosie’s face falls. I’ve played enough games with her over the years to know I’ve got her beat.

  ‘I can’t believe you’ve got a phone. But, I saw you put your phone down the well with mine, didn’t I? Was it all some illusion, are they both here?’

  I hastily put my hand into the bucket looking for mine, but there’s nothing there.

  ‘The phones are down the well, I just have another one.’

  ‘What? Rosie, this digital detox was all your idea.’

  ‘I know, I know it was. I thought it would be really good to have a bit of space from Ru, but then, after I put the phones in the well, I wondered what the hell I’d done. So the next day, when I went to the builders’ merchants, I bought a new one. I’m sorry, Daisy, I tried, I really did, but it’s my marriage on the line.’

  ‘All this time you’ve had your phone? You’ve been making me think there was something wrong with me for being so cut up about being without mine, and all the while you’ve had yours. No wonder you’ve been so bloody keen to go out to get more cement, and pop out to the shops. You’ve been sneaking out to use that.’

  She pulls a wincing face, before sighing. ‘I know I promised I’d do the digital detox with you, but I practically did it. I mean, I’ve barely looked at it; it’s just that now’s a bad time for me not to have a phone. My marriage is on the rocks and I had to be in touch with Rupert.’

  ‘I can’t believe I listened to you. What if I’d lost a job opportunity from the lack of Internet access?’

  ‘But you didn’t. You’ve got your interview lined up with that company.’

  ‘I do, luckily, but you didn’t know that was the case. And what about Erica? She’s my best friend and she’s going through the biggest life crisis she’s ever had to deal with, breaking up with Chris, and she’s going through it all by herself.’

  Rosie looks sheepish. ‘I know; I felt bad when I heard that and I almost offered it to you, but you had to go London anyway to see about the job, so I thought that it wouldn’t matter. It was only a day or two.’

  ‘Only a day or two? So it’s OK for things in my life to wait for only or day or two, but not yours? You couldn’t wait a day or two as your life and your marriage is too important, but I can?’ I shake my head.

  ‘I didn’t mean it like that, I just mean –’ She pauses. I don’t think she knows what she meant at all. And I don’t want to sit here and wait to find out.

  ‘I can’t believe I listened to you. Let’s get in touch with our pre-digital selves? What a load of bullshit. You made me feel like such a loser because I was having a tough time being separated from my phone. I couldn’t understand how I was the only one twitchy, but now it all makes sense. You fooled me . . . I’m going to pack,’ I say huffily. ‘I’ll leave first thing.’

  ‘Daisy, don’t do that. Look, use the phone. Message Erica.’

  We both stare at it as it vibrates across the table.

  ‘Rupert’s calling, you wouldn’t want to miss that,’ I say, storming up the stairs.

  I take off my sparkly top and replace it with an old T-shirt and a big, comfortable hoodie.

  I fling open my case and start throwing in my clothes, which are scattered around my room. I’m furious. First Alexis uses my social media accounts to con me into thinking he’s my ideal man, and then I find out my sister’s had a phone all along. It’s just me who’s the mug, me who’s been doing this digital detox, and it feels as if everyone’s been laughing at me behind my back for taking it seriously.

  I wish I could leave now, but I catch a glimpse out the window and it’s pitch-black outside and the middle of the night. Even if we weren’t on a farm in the absolute middle of nowhere, with no hope of me dragging my suitcase in the dark over the potholed mud track, there’d still be no trains running. I’m going to have to wait for morning. I’ll just sit here waiting, as I’m far too angry to sleep.

  I don’t even bother to take off my clothes and put on my pyjamas. I simply sit on the airbed and fold my arms. The countdown is officially on until I can get back to my normal life and forget all about this hellhole.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Time since last Internet usage: 17 hours, 4 minutes and 0 seconds

  When I wake the next morning, I’m still fuming. I barely do even the most basic of ablutions before I leave the farm, wanting to escape as quickly as possible. Rosie wasn’t in our room when I got up, and I worry that she’s done something stupid and driven after Rupert, so I’m relieved to see that the Land Rover is still parked on the drive. I peek into the living room and find her asleep in one of the rocking chairs, using a dustsheet as a blanket. I might be mad as hell, but she’s still my sister, and I couldn’t leave without making sure she was safe.

  Satisfied that she is, I pick up my suitcase and prepare for the long walk to the station. I’m halfway across the courtyard when I hear Alexis call out after me.

  ‘Wait, are you leaving now too?’

  I snap my head round. The alcohol has worn off and, where last night it almost seemed comical what he’d done, now in the sober light of day I feel violated.

  ‘I am, but you’re not walking with me.’

  ‘Please, let me explain,’ he says, jogging to catch up with me.

  I try to hurry away, only he’s nimble on his feet, thanks to his giant backpack, whereas I might as well be dragging an elephant behind me with the speed I’m going, and he soon catches up with me.

  By the time I’ve made it to the dirt track, my case is flip-flopping all over the place and it’s nearly impossible to keep it vertical. Alexis goes to g
rab it out of my hand.

  ‘Please, let me.’

  ‘No,’ I snap. ‘You’ve done quite enough.’

  He lets go and holds his hands up. ‘You know, I did not mean to –’

  ‘Don’t talk to me. I don’t want to hear it.’

  He shuts up and the two of us walk along in silence. Or near silence, as I’m muttering every swear word in the book under my breath. I’m almost tempted to abandon my case right here on the track, when I hear the putt-putt-putt of an engine.

  Oh great. Rosie’s come to find us – either that or it’s Jack. Neither of whom I want to see.

  Luckily, as it passes and stops in front of us, I see that it’s Rodney in his pick-up truck.

  ‘Morning!’ he says. ‘Off somewhere, are we?’

  ‘To the station,’ I say. ‘Not together though.’

  ‘You want a lift? Obviously, the lift will have to be together,’ he says chuckling. ‘I’ve got Shep in the front. So you can either sit with him on your lap or you can sit in the trailer.

  Sharing a vehicle with Alexis is the last thing I want to do, but I accept as it’s probably the only way I’ll make it to the train station before sunset with the speed I’m lugging my case at.

  ‘Yes, please,’ I say.

  I struggle to lift up my case to put it in the back, and instinctively Alexis goes to help me, but I turn and block his efforts. By the time Rodney’s come to help me, my poor arm muscles are practically vibrating in spasm. I stomp round to the passenger door and try to move Shep over, but he’s having none of it. I sigh as I walk back round, as Rodney is closing the back flap.

  ‘I’ll get in here too,’ I say, sounding defeated.

  Rodney rather enthusiastically gives me a hand up and I practically leap up as his hands make contact with my bum.

  Before I know it, we’re bounding along the track, and I cling on to the side for dear life.

  I’d half hoped to sneak off to London without anyone knowing I’d gone, but it seems that every man and his dog is out today. The mix of warm, dry weather and gossip from the barn dance means that there are enclaves of chatting villagers dotted along the route. I think only a carnival float with us on would have attracted more attention, not that that’s stopping Alexis. He’s waving regally like a carnival king as we pass. I try and sink lower in the trailer, but Liz and Gerry still spot me. They’ll no doubt be dining on this gossip all day in the shop. Although, with all the drama that unfolded last night, they’ll be spoilt for choice.