S. Watson - Second Life

Not just someone , I think. Anna. And now, I realize with increasing panic, I’m here rushing to try to save her.

The station is crowded; I can’t see her. I stop running. ‘Find Friends,’ I think she’d called it. We’d linked our profiles. I scrabble for my phone, drop it, pick it up again. I open the map, but there’s only one dot. Mine.

She’s disconnected her profile from mine. She hates me. I’m about to despair. She’ll go back home; all is lost. I could try to call her, yes, but she probably won’t answer the phone, and even if she does how will I make her believe me? I need to be there, in front of her. I need to make her understand.

I see a flash of red in the crowds, and somehow I know it’s her coat. When the crowd clears I see I’m right. She’s at the gate itself, pulling her case behind her with one hand, with the other already fumbling her ticket over the automatic scanner. ‘Anna!’ I shout, but she can’t hear me and doesn’t respond. I start running again. My words are lost in gasped breath, caught up in the noisy chaos of the station, rising and echoing in the vault of the ceiling. I shout again, louder this time – ‘Anna! Wait!’ – but by the time she looks up and sees me I’m too late; the automatic gates have registered her ticket, swung open and she’s gone through.

‘Julia!’ she says, turning back to face me. ‘What’re you…?’

I stop running. We’re on either side of the gates, a few feet apart. There’s a security booth just beyond her, and beyond that the waiting rooms and restaurants of the international terminal. ‘I met Lukas.’ She looks momentarily confused, then I remember myself. ‘I mean, Ryan. I saw Ryan.’

She looks at me, her head tilted, her mouth turned down. It’s pity. She feels sorry for me. Again I’m reminded that Lukas has won.

‘I know. He called me.’

‘They’re the same person, Anna. I swear. Ryan is Lukas. He’s been lying to you.’

She seems to well up. Something she’s so far been holding in check erupts to the surface.

‘I thought you were my friend.’

‘I am.’ But then my mind goes to the scar on Lukas’s cheek, just beginning to crust. I can only imagine what he’s said to her.

‘Whatever Ryan’s told you, he’s lying.’ I look her in the eye. ‘Believe me…’

She shakes her head. ‘Bye, Julia.’ She turns to leave.

I grip the barrier. For a second I think I could jump it, or push through, but already we’re attracting attention. A staff member is watching us, he’s stepping forward, as if he expects trouble.

I call instead. ‘Anna! Come back. Just for a minute. Let me explain!’

She looks over her shoulder. ‘Goodbye, Julia.’ She begins to walk away.

‘No!’ I say. ‘Wait!’

The guy in the uniform is standing right by us, now looking from one to the other. Anna doesn’t turn round.

I cast about for a way to convince her. I’m desperate. I need something that proves I know him as Lukas, have slept with him. Then I remember.

‘He has a birthmark. On his leg. His thigh. His upper thigh.’

At first I don’t think she’s heard me, but then she stops walking. She turns, then slowly comes back towards the barrier that separates us.

‘A birthmark.’ I point to my own body. ‘Just here.’

At first she says nothing. She shakes her head. She looks hurt, devastated. ‘You… bitch .’

The last word is hissed. Of course she hates me, and I hate myself for having to do this to her.

‘Anna!… I’m sorry…’

She’s standing just on the other side of the barrier now. If either of us were to reach over we could touch each other, yet she is utterly unreachable, as if the barrier between us were impenetrable.

We both remain utterly still, just staring. A moment later a voice cuts in with a jolt.

‘Is there some kind of a problem here?’

I look over. It’s the guard. He’s standing just beyond Anna. We both shake our head. ‘No. It’s fine.’ Dimly, I’m aware that I’m blocking the barrier, a queue is forming behind me.

‘Could you move along, please?’ He sounds so calm; his politeness clashes with what’s going on.

I put my hand out, palm up, as if offering something. ‘Anna, please.’ She looks at it as if it’s an unknown object, dangerous, alien. ‘Anna?’

‘Why are you doing this?’ She’s crying now, tears pouring down her cheeks. ‘I thought we were friends…’

‘We were.’ I’m desperate, insistent. ‘We still are.’ I wish I could make her understand, let her know I’m doing this because I do love her, not because I don’t. I get out my phone. ‘He’s not the person you think he is. Ryan, I mean. Believe me.’

‘You have everything. From the moment I told you we were engaged you haven’t been able to even pretend to be happy for me. I feel sorry for you. D’you know that?’

‘No—’ I begin, but she interrupts me.

‘I’ve had enough.’ She turns to go, and I try to grip her arm. The guy watching us steps forward; again he asks us to move along.

‘Give me a second, will you? Please?’

I have to make Anna understand, before she gets on the train and disappears back to Paris and everything is lost. Otherwise she’ll marry this man and ruin her life. It hits me that, even if I succeed, Lukas will carry out his threat, send Hugh the pictures. Whatever happens I might lose everything.

I feel myself slip back into the blackness, but I know I can’t. This is my last chance to do the right thing.

‘Wait a minute. I need you to hear something.’ The rest of the station disappears; I can think of nothing else. It’s just me and her. My words come out in a rush. ‘He’s… I know him as Lukas… he’s the one I met through the website you told me about… he… he’s… he’s got to Connor. He’s been following him… following me, too… he’s flipped, I swear…’

‘Liar.’ Over and over again she says it. ‘You’re a liar. A liar.’

‘I can prove it.’ I hold my phone in front of me. ‘Just listen to this. Please. And then—’

‘Miss. I’m going to have to ask you to move out of the way. Now.’

He steps between us. My desperation turns to anger; the world comes back in a furious rush. The station seems noisy and I don’t know whether Anna will be able to hear my recording. A small crowd has now gathered, on both sides of the barrier, staring at us. A man has taken his phone out and is taking pictures.

‘Please! This is important.’ I’m fumbling with my phone, unlocking the screen, opening the file. ‘Please, Anna? For Kate?’

She stares. It’s calm, suddenly, and then the guard asks me again to move away. This is my last chance.

‘Just give her this. Please?’

‘Miss—’ he begins, but Anna interrupts him. She’s holding out her hand.

‘I’ll listen. I don’t know what you want, but I’ll listen.’

I hand the phone to the man standing between us, and he passes it to Anna.

‘Press play. Please?’ She hesitates, then does so. She stands, her head craned forward. The section I’d selected is ready. My voice, his voice. Just as it’d been in the taxi. She’s too far away and I can’t hear what she’s listening to, but I know it by heart: ‘…a nice little arrangement… I don’t love her.’ She plays enough, just a few moments, then it ends. She crumples. It’s as if all the tension of the last few minutes has caused her to snap.

‘I’m sorry.’

She looks at me. She’s crushed. She seems diminished, empty. All emotion is squeezed out. I wish I could reach out, comfort her. I can’t bear the thought of doing this to her and then sending her on her way. Back home. Alone.