S. Watson - Second Life

He’s right. It can’t have been him. But can it really be coincidence?

‘I don’t know. I’m sorry.’

‘I’m sorry, too. For laughing. For not taking it seriously.’ There’s a pause. He sounds contrite. ‘When did it happen?’

‘On Friday night, I think.’

‘I was in Cambridge on Friday. Out with a bunch of mates.’ He hesitates. ‘You can check on Facebook, if you like. Ade has put shitloads of pictures up.’

My computer’s in front of me. I open it up.

‘Julia, this man, you’re sure he’s going to be okay?’

‘Yes,’ I say. ‘I think so.’ I open Facebook and navigate to his timeline. Friday night. It’s true. There are photos of him.

I feel awful. Guilty. Filled with an overwhelming desire to make everything better. ‘I’ve been really stupid. I’m sorry.’

‘You do trust me, don’t you?’ His voice is calm, now. Kind. Soothing. The voice I’m used to. Yet from nowhere I flash on a vision. Him saying exactly the same thing, but to Kate.

‘Julia? Are you there?’

I realize I haven’t answered him.

‘Yes. I’m sorry. I just panicked, that’s all.’ Relief floods my veins as I realize the truth of what I’m saying. A brightness returns to the world, one I hadn’t noticed had disappeared. I go on. ‘I’m sorry. All this fantasy talk, I suppose I was worried…’

‘It’s okay…’

‘I should never have accused you.’ Pleasure floods my veins. The pleasure of tension released. ‘I don’t know what came over me.’

‘It’s okay . Calm down, Julia. It’s all going to be okay.’

Is it? I want it to be. I think of all the good times we’ve had, all the support he’s given me over Kate. I get the sense that if anyone can make it okay, then it’s him.

It’s his voice. He does that. He makes me feel better, calmer.

‘Listen,’ he says. ‘I might’ve found out something. About Kate.’

My heart surges. ‘What? What is it?’

His answer seems to take for ever.

‘I’m not sure.’

‘What? What is it?’

‘It’s probably nothing.’

‘What have you found?’

Again I hear him hesitate. He doesn’t want to raise my hopes.

‘There’s a site—’

‘What site?’

‘I don’t remember. But I found someone on there. She’s using the name Julia.’

‘Julia?’

‘Yes. It’s why I looked twice. There’s no photo, but she’s about twenty-eight or twenty-nine. She lives in Paris. And…’

‘And?’

‘Well, the thing is, she hasn’t logged on since the end of January.’

‘What’s the name of the site?’

‘Why?’

‘Because I want to try the login details that worked with encountrz. I want to know if it’s her.’

‘Why don’t you leave it to me?’

Because I want to know.

‘Please, Lukas. Just tell me what it’s called. I’ll take a look…’

He sighs, loudly. I can almost hear him try to decide what’s for the best.

‘I’m not sure it’s a good idea,’ he begins. ‘You’ll just get upset, and—’

‘Lukas!’

‘Hear me out. Here’s what I think we should do. I’ll send this person a message. If they reply we’ll know it’s not Kate.’

‘But they haven’t even logged on since January…’

‘Okay. Well, why don’t you give me Kate’s login details? I’ll try them for you.’

So this is it, I think. I have to decide now. Do I trust him, or not?

What choice do I have, really? I give him the password. Jasper1234.

‘It’s the name of our dog, growing up. Promise me you’ll try it.’

He calls me back an hour later. I haven’t been able to settle. I’ve just been pacing, sitting at my computer, trying to work, failing. When my phone rings I snatch at it.

‘Hello?’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘You didn’t get in.’

‘No—’

‘She might have used a different password—’

‘Julia, wait. This woman responded to my message. I asked her for a picture and she sent me one. It’s not Kate.’

‘Can I see the picture? It might be someone impersonating her…’

‘It’s not,’ he says. ‘This woman’s black.’

I feel utterly flat. It’s not worth it, this false raising of my hopes, when it leads only to crushing disappointment. Anything feels better. Even emptiness.

‘I’ll keep looking. If you want me to?’

I tell him. ‘I’m just disappointed.’

‘Try not to be. Will I see you next week? Tuesday?’

I hesitate. Everything is too bright, too intense. I want normality, stability. I think back to the visceral love I feel for my son, the way in which I missed him last night after finding out about Paddy’s attack. As if for the first time, I realize this love isn’t compatible with what I’m doing.

I remind myself why I chatted to Lukas in the first place, why I first met him. To find my sister’s killer, for the sake of Connor, for the family.

But that’s got me nowhere, and now Connor needs something else from me. A trip to the cinema. A burger. Mother and son. I make my decision.

‘I can’t. Not Tuesday. I’m busy.’

I have the sense of a grip suddenly relaxed. I’m relieved. It’s a good feeling. I’ve been selfish; now, I’m doing the right thing.

‘Busy?’

‘Yes. I’m sorry.’

I realize I’m holding my breath. Part of me wants him to argue, to protest, the rest hopes he’ll just suggest another day. I want to make sure I can last a week without seeing him.

Silence. I need an excuse. ‘It’s just that I have a friend. Anna. She wants me to help her look for a wedding dress.’

‘She can’t do a different day?’

‘No. I’m sorry…’

‘Okay.’ I want him to argue some more. I want him to try and persuade me, to ask me who’s more important, him or Anna.

But he doesn’t. He’s saying goodbye and a moment later the call is over.

Tuesday comes. It’s Connor’s day, and I decide we’ll do whatever he wants. I owe it to him; he deserves it. He seems more cheerful, is talking more now, more like his old self.

At the weekend we went to see Paddy. Hugh’s idea. He didn’t look as bad as I was expecting. His eyes were swollen and bruised, there was a graze on his cheek. He couldn’t tell how many people had attacked him, or even if it was more than one. They took nothing, just knocked him out. He didn’t look at me once the whole time we were there.

I get up early. I haven’t slept well; last night I’d seen the figure again, outside my window. It looked more real this time, it had more substance. I even thought I saw the glow of a cigarette, but once again, once I’d looked away to talk to Hugh then gone back, he’d gone. If he’d ever been there at all.

I’m blurry eyed as I go downstairs. I find my phone and see I missed another call from Adrienne last night. I feel guilty. She’s been travelling; she wants to know if I got my present, a silver necklace I admired months ago when we were out shopping. ‘Just let me know,’ she’d said, in her last message. ‘And let’s meet up. I’m busy, as ever, but dying to see you! Call me back.’

I haven’t done so, and I’m not sure why. Maybe because she knows me too well; she’d see straight through me if I tried to hide anything from her. Plus, there’s the lie I told Hugh, about me falling on the escalator. I need to put a bit of distance between us. It’s easier to avoid her, just for a little while.

Connor and I have breakfast in front of the television. When we finish I ask him what he wants to do today, and he says maybe we could go and see a film. ‘Sure!’ I say. I tell him to choose one. ‘Whatever you like.’ He picks the new Planet of the Apes film. I’m disappointed, but I’m careful not to let it show.