S. Watson - Second Life

‘It was a bit of fun. You know? A distraction. Good while it lasted.’

‘Oh, yes. Totally. Of course…’

Until it wasn’t fun any more, I think.

‘He’s vanished, anyway.’

‘You sound disappointed.’

‘Not at all.’

There’s a longer pause, then. I’m tense, embarrassed, because we both know how my affair with Lukas ended. The silence goes on; each of us waits for the other to break it. Eventually she does. She asks me what my plans are for the week, and I tell her. A bit of work, I might catch a movie. At last we reach the hotel.

‘Ah, we’re here.’

We pull up. The place is surprisingly nice, though nothing like as grand as the places Lukas was taking me to. ‘Want me to come in?’

She shakes her head. ‘It’s fine. You probably need to get on.’

It’s an excuse, and I smile. I’d like to catch up some more, but she looks tired; I’ve forgotten she’s here to work, will probably want to have a rest before preparing for her conference in the morning. There’s plenty of time for catching up when she comes round for dinner.

We get out and I get her case from the boot of the car. ‘See you on Monday, then.’

She asks what time she should arrive. ‘And what shall I bring?’

‘Nothing, nothing at all. Just yourself. I’d better give you directions,’ I say. She takes her phone out of her bag.

‘Oh, I’ll use this.’ She swipes through more screens. ‘It’s so much easier. There. I’ve added you…’

I don’t know what she means. ‘I don’t—’ I begin, but she interrupts me.

‘Find Friends. It’s an app that shows where your friends are in relation to you. On a map. It’s standard. Check your emails.’

I do. There’s a new message. ‘Accept that invitation,’ she says, ‘then our profiles are linked. I can see where you are on the map, and you can see me. I use it all the time back home. After Kate died it was kind of reassuring to know where my friends were.’

She takes my phone and shows me. A map opens, showing where we’re standing. Two dots pulse over each other. ‘One for me, one for you,’ she says.

I look at the screen. Underneath the map there’s a list of people who’re following me. Anna’s name is there, but underneath is another. Lukas.

I feel like I’ve been slapped.

‘Shit.’

Anna looks shocked. ‘What is it?’

‘Him. Lukas.’ I try to keep my voice steady. I don’t want her to hear the fear in it. ‘He’s been following me on here…’

‘What?’

I hold out my phone. ‘Look. How—’ I begin, but she’s already explaining.

‘He must’ve linked your profiles. You didn’t know?’

I shake my head. I can’t believe what’s happening.

‘He must’ve found some way of sending you a request, then accepting it on your behalf. Easy enough, if you left him alone with your phone.’

All those times I was in the bathroom, my phone in my bag or on the bedside table. She’s right. It would’ve been easy.

‘Can we stop him following me?’

‘Easy.’ She swipes something on the screen, then hands the phone back to me. ‘There,’ she says firmly. ‘Deleted.’

I look. It’s just her name, now. ‘He can’t see where I am any more?’

‘No.’ She puts her hand on my arm. ‘Are you all right?’

I nod, and I realize that yes, yes I am. I’m weirdly relieved. So this is how he’d known where I’d be. All that time. At least now I know. At least now I’m finally rid of him.

‘You’re sure?’

‘It’s a bit of a shock, but I’m okay. Honestly.’

‘I’ll see you Monday, then?’ I nod. ‘I’ll let you know what Ryan’s doing as soon as he knows himself.’

‘Great. He’s very welcome. I’m looking forward to meeting him.’

She kisses me, then turns to leave.

‘He can’t wait to meet you.’

At home I go straight to my computer. Seeing his name has awoken something. One last time, I tell myself. I open encountrz, search for his name, and again I get the same message, as stark and unambiguous as my disappointment.

Username not found .

It’s like he never existed. He’s vanished as completely as the bruises he caused.

I type his name into Google. There’s nothing. No mention of him, or anyone that could be him. I try Facebook and find his profile is nowhere to be found, then ring his number again, even though I know exactly what dead sound I’ll hear. Usually I’d circle back now, and do it all again. And again. But this time is different. This time I know it has to stop. I log back on to my own profile, the one on encountrz, the one I’d set up that afternoon in the garden. I navigate the menus until I find it. Delete profile.

I hesitate, breathe deeply, once, twice, then click.

Are you sure?

I choose yes.

The screen changes: Profile deleted .

Jayne doesn’t exist any more.

I sit back. Now, I think. Now, finally, it’s over.

I’m in the living room when Anna arrives. She’s alone. Ryan had plans, she’d said, but will pick her up later. I call upstairs to Hugh and go to the door. Our guest is standing outside, holding a bottle of wine and a bunch of flowers. ‘I’m early!’ she says as I usher her in. ‘Sorry!’ I tell her it’s fine and take the coat she’s wearing, a red rainproof that’s slightly damp.

‘Is it raining?’

‘A little. Just drizzle. What a lovely house!’

We go through to the living room. Her conference is going well, she says, though there’s a lot to think about, and yes, her hotel room is fine. As she speaks she goes over to the picture of Kate on the mantelpiece and picks it up, looking at it for a moment before putting it back. She looks as though she’s about to say something – we’ve spoken about the fact that they’ve found the man who murdered her, perhaps she wants to say something else – but then Hugh comes downstairs to say hello. They embrace warmly, as if they’ve known each other for years.

‘Oh, I brought you these!’ she says, handing over a bag. Hugh opens it: a box of macaroons, delicately wrapped. ‘Great!’ he says, then they both sit. I excuse myself to check on the food, happy that they’re chatting. For a moment it feels as if I’m auditioning Anna as my new best friend and I feel first anxious about Adrienne, then guilty. Our friendship has been through a rocky patch and we’re only just getting back on track.

Yet it’s only natural that Anna and I would be friends, too. We’ve both lost Kate; the bond is recent but immensely powerful.

‘Where’s Connor?’ she says when I go back in. ‘I can’t wait to meet him again!’

‘He’s out with friends.’ I sit down on the sofa opposite Hugh, next to Anna. ‘His friend Dylan, I think. He’ll be back soon…’

I’ve told him he has to be. Maybe Hugh’s right. I need to be firmer.

I shrug. You know what they’re like, I’m saying, and she smiles, even though I guess she doesn’t.

‘Do you want children?’ says Hugh, and she laughs.

‘No! Not yet, anyway. I’ve only just got engaged!’

‘You have brothers? Sisters?’

‘Just a step-brother,’ she says. ‘Seth. He lives in Leeds. He does something to do with computers. I’m never really sure.’

‘Is that where your parents live?’

She sighs. ‘No. My parents are dead.’ I remember Anna telling me about her parents, back in Paris, while we were sitting on her couch, having a drink. Her mother suffered with depression. She tried to kill herself. She’d survived, but required full-time care for the years she remained alive. Her father’s drinking got worse, and after just less than a decade they died within six months of each other and she and her brother were left alone.