Time since last Internet usage: 7 hours, 31 minutes, 9 seconds
I shiver a little at the cool breeze coming under the door, and I try to keep myself warm by nodding like a Churchill dog at whatever Liz is talking about. To be honest, I’ve lost track. I’ve been edging my feet closer to the main hall for the last ten minutes, hoping she’ll take the hint, but she seems too delighted at having an audience.
‘And then, she appeared from Russ’s house. At 7 a.m. Still in last night’s clothes. Now, I’m not one to gossip, but his wife only left a few weeks before.’
If either I knew who she was talking about, or I cared remotely, I might have speculated that perhaps the dirty stop out, as Liz had called her, was the reason the wife left in the first place. But I’m trying to escape from the conversation, not drag myself further into it.
I’ve got my hand on the door handle, and I’m about to summon the courage to tell her I’m going back in, when the main door opens and a couple walk in. I seize my opportunity and sneak back into the hall. The welcome warmth hits me immediately.
It seems the party is well and truly in full swing now. The dance floor is packed with promenading couples and I spot Rosie holding hands with a young man skipping under the hands of everyone else. She’s got a huge smile on her face and seems to be enjoying herself. I’m so pleased that I came with her; this is just what she needed to take her mind off everything going on with her and Rupert. Speaking of whom, it seems that the poster didn’t work after all. Perhaps, when I’m back in London, I’ll have to give him a ring.
‘There you are. I thought you’d exited,’ says Alexis as he walks up behind me.
I stifle a giggle at his odd translation, but feel a little flattered that at least he noticed my absence. Which is impressive, given the female admirers he has here tonight. In fact, there are two circling like sharks, waiting for their opportunity to grab him for a dance.
‘The next dance is mine,’ he says almost purring.
I’m not sure if it’s his super sexy French accent, the punch I drank earlier, or the fact that Jenny is giggling with Jack, but whatever it is, I want Alexis, and I want him now.
I lean into him and I find my lips making contact with his, and before I can talk myself out of it, we’re kissing. As in proper tongues-and-all kissing. It takes a second before my brain catches up with my lust and we stop before laughing, a little embarrassed at the sudden PDA.
‘Sorry,’ I say, patting my lip as if to prove to myself that actually happened.
‘For what?’ he says. He reaches his hand down and grabs mine to take me outside. We find ourselves in the empty vestibule entrance.
We stand there looking at each other, waiting to see who’ll make the first move.
‘I can’t believe you are going tomorrow,’ he says stepping forward and stroking my face. ‘We are only just getting to know each other.’
‘I know,’ I say, thinking I should have directed less of my attention to Jack and more to Alexis.
‘Don’t mind me,’ says Liz, winking as she comes out of the toilet and sits back down at her desk. She sits there, not even pretending to disguise the fact that she’s watching us.
Alexis grabs my hand to lead me outside when Jenny bursts into the vestibule, arms folded, lips pouting and nostrils flaring.
I look at Alexis’s face and he looks a little flustered.
‘I don’t know what happens where you’re from, but here, when you’re dating someone, you don’t stick your tongue down other people’s throats,’ she screams at us. I can hear her words echo around the room.
‘Um,’ I say, suddenly confused. ‘I might have written Jack letters, but my tongue has gone nowhere near him.’
‘What’s this got to do with Jack? I just saw you kissing Alexis. What the hell do you think you’re doing?’
Jack walks in and we all stare at him. ‘I saw you tear off,’ he says to Jenny. ‘What’s going on?’
He looks at me and scowls as if he’s declaring me the trouble-maker.
‘Why don’t you ask your girlfriend why she’s bothered that Alexis and I were kissing?’ I snap.
‘You’ve kissed Alexis?’ he says at first, before he closes his eyes and furrows his brow. ‘And what do you mean “my girlfriend”?’
‘Yeah, what are you talking about? Jack’s not my boyfriend, I’ve been dating Alexis for the last two weeks.’
I look between Jack and Alexis, suddenly confused about what I saw.
‘But I saw you kissing Jack by the old ruins on our lane.’
‘I was kissing Alexis.’
Bloody hell. She’s not with Jack? She’s dating Alexis – whom I just kissed the hell out of.
Jenny and I both snap our heads round and look at him. I go for the confused look whereas Jenny’s going for the downright angry one.
‘So you’ve been dating Jenny?’ I say.
‘Yes, but that isn’t a problem, is it?’ says Alexis, squinting a little as if wondering why we’ve got our knickers in a twist.
‘Um, yes, usually it is,’ I say, thinking that I really do have the worst luck at the moment. I can’t even have a little fling without it going spectacularly wrong. ‘And you’ve not been dating Jenny?’ I say, pointing at Jack.
He shakes his head and keeps his scowl fixed on his face.
I’m desperately embarrassed that I’ve got it all wrong. I turn to go back into the hall and I catch Liz’s eye. She’s staring agog and mindlessly eating a bag of popcorn as if she’s sitting in a multiplex.
‘I need some air. Jenny, if you need me I’ll be outside,’ says Jack.
‘I’ll just leave you to it, too. You know, I’m going back to London tomorrow anyway. And Jenny here . . .’ I say not wanting to finish the sentence as she looks like she wants to stab my eyes with scissors. I want to talk to Jack, to sort things out with him, especially now I know that he’s not with Jenny.
‘Stay,’ says Alexis, holding his hand out as I walk past.
‘Really, I’m going to go.’
‘What we had, our moments, they were special,’ he says catching my hand as I go to walk away.
‘Pur-lease,’ says Jenny. ‘You said the same thing to me last night.’
‘And me,’ says another voice. We turn and see Trish the yoga teacher coming out of the hall.
‘He’s been seeing you too?’ says Jenny, the tears starting to well up in her eyes.
‘Uh-huh,’ says Trish. ‘We’ve been on a couple of dates now.’
Liz gasps, and we all glance in her direction. ‘Don’t mind me,’ she says, her eyes almost popping out of her head.
We turn our heads back to Alexis, who seems to have shrugged off the nonchalance and is now looking a little worried.
‘But he promised me he was going to take me to France, to go sailing down the Canal-du-Midi, as he loves sailing as much as I do,’ says Jenny.
‘Hah,’ says Trish, ‘he was going to take me to Burgundy to do a spirituality retreat because he’s into all that.’
The two women turn to me and I feel a bit foolish. ‘Skiing holiday in the Pyrenees,’ I admit.
All eyes go back to Alexis. ‘I wanted to go on all these trips.’
‘I thought we had such a connection, you know you loving Beyoncé as much as me,’ says Jenny.
‘Daft Punk,’ says Trish.
‘Foo Fighters,’ I say.
‘I like all these artists,’ he says.
‘But you told me how much you wanted me to meet your family,’ shrieks Jenny. ‘You said your dad would love me.’
I freeze. Up until now this whole thing has been a bit comical, but my blood starts to run cold.
‘Hold on. Your dad? But he died when you were fifteen,’ I say, desperately hoping that Jenny had got her tenses wrong.
‘But you said he was coming over to Scotland to see you next month,’ clarifies Jenny.
‘You lied to me about your dad dying? That’s sick,’ I say, wondering what other things about him aren’t true.
‘Why would you pretend your dad was dead?’ asks Jenny.
‘I . . . um . . . I . . .’
For the first time since first I met him, Alexis isn’t his usual confident self. Not even his sexy accent can get him out of this one.
I think back over all our conversations and all those coincidences of things we have in common. The bands we’ve both seen, the songs we both like.
I take a step back from the situation, as Jenny and Trish start to shout and argue with each other, with Alexis getting in the middle, bravely, may I add, as it’s only a matter of time before they turn on him.
But then it hits me.
The 1975.
Foo Fighters.
My dad’s death.
I think back to the Mail Online and how they’d ravaged my Instagram for photos to put on their website, and it dawns on me that I’d posted photos of those bands and a photo of my dad’s grave on my Instagram account. My unlocked Instagram account.
It suddenly all makes sense now. His daily walks up the hill. He’s being going to where he can get a signal to find out about us.
What an idiot. I can’t believe I was almost taken in by him, and if it weren’t for the others catching us in the act, I would have been.
‘Ladies,’ I say. ‘Hey, ladies.’
I try and pull them off each other and eventually they stop. I’m slightly worried that they’ll gang up on me, but they stroppily fold their arms and listen to what I have to say.
‘I think I’ve figured it out. Are you Facebook friends with Alexis? Or do you have Twitter or Instagram feeds?’
They both nod, rolling their eyes a little as if they couldn’t figure out the relevance.
‘Think about what you’ve got on your pages. Is there anything on there that would show Alexis about your love of Beyoncé or Daft Punk? About sailing?’
Trish suddenly starts to nod. ‘I’m always sharing what I’m listening to on Spotify.’
‘And recently I did a throwback Thursday photo of myself at a Beyoncé concert. And there are loads of photos of me sailing in the Lakes.’
They both turn to look at Alexis, who’s started to creep back towards the door, holding his hands up as if to protect his face from the onslaught he fears is to come.
‘You cannot blame me. I wanted to get to know you all. I am not here for long, and I thought it would, ’ow do you say . . . Plus vite.’
‘Speed things up,’ I say, guessing his meaning from what little I can remember from my French GCSE.
‘Exactly. I do like you all so much. In fact, there is no reason that we cannot, perhaps, all go out together sometime.’
‘What, after you make up that your family members have died?’ I say, shaking my head.
Jenny shrieks. ‘Did you make up your sister’s abusive relationship, too?’ she whispers in a wobbly voice, her shoulders starting to shake through the tears. ‘I haven’t let anyone get close to me in years,’ she says, and Trish wraps an arm protectively around her. ‘How did you even know about the abuse?’
Alexis looks at the floor. ‘You had liked a number of articles and blogs that follow other victims, and I suspected that was why.’
‘Do you want to thump him or shall I?’ says Trish to Jenny.
‘Oh, no, he’s all mine,’ she says, suddenly composing herself and walking slowly towards him.
The door swings open and Rosie comes out.
‘Hey, hey, hey. What’s going on?’ asks Rosie, as she pushes between the girls and stands with her back to Alexis to give him protection.
‘You should hear what he’s being doing,’ says Jenny.
‘He’s been dating us both,’ says Trish, her voice all squeaky. It’s miles away from the dulcet tones that sent me to sleep at the end of Wednesday’s yoga class.
‘And he kissed your sister,’ says Jenny, pointing the finger at me.
Rosie looks over at me and flashes a quick smile. ‘Perhaps dating is a bit more fluid in France. I’m sure he didn’t know what he was doing,’ she says, turning back to the angry women.
‘He was stalking us on Facebook. It’s darn right creepy,’ says Jenny, folding her arms as if she’s a tree standing firm. She’s not going anywhere. ‘He’s taken things that are really personal to me, and used them to get closer to me.’
Rosie flicks her head round and now it’s Alexis’s turn to get a scolding look.
‘I’m sure that he regrets what he did. But perhaps you should be flattered that he liked you enough to go to all that effort. How did he even get onto the Internet anyway?’
‘The hill walking,’ I say.
‘Oh, right,’ she says. ‘Look, I think it’s time everyone calmed down a bit. Maybe Alexis has been playing the field a little, but at least you found out before anyone got hurt, right?’
Looking at Jenny I’m not so sure that’s the case.
‘Why are you sticking up for him?’ asks Trish. ‘You’re not dating him too, are you?’
‘Of course, I’m not. I’m married,’ says Rosie.
‘Since when has that stopped people in this village? I mean, your husband’s not at the house with you, and you’re there with him day in and day out.’
‘Don’t forget Daisy’s there with us too.’
‘But she’s going tomorrow, isn’t she? How do we know that you’re not just trying to save Alexis all for yourself? It’d be all cosy, just the two of you rattling around on that dilapidated farm, curling up together by the fire.’
The wind flying through the vestibule alerts us to someone having come in, seconds before the door crashes noisily shut. I see the look on Rosie’s face and I know before turning round who’s walked in, and who’s just heard what Trish has said.
‘What’s she talking about, Rosie? Why would you be living with him at the farm when Daisy’s not there?’ Rupert’s voice is calm and measured, but I recognise the look in his eyes; it’s the same look of hurt and anger that’s in Jenny’s.
‘Ru, this isn’t what you think,’ says Rosie, forgetting she’s all that stands between Alexis and two black eyes.
‘I don’t know what to think anymore, and I don’t know what to believe. I mean, you’re just going to lie to me again.’
‘I didn’t lie about the farm, I just wanted to surprise you.’
‘It’s not about the farm, it’s about what I found there when I visited last time. I saw your prescription for your pill. You know, the one that you’re supposed to have stopped taking so we can try for a baby.’
‘Rosie,’ I say in shock. No wonder he left in such a hurry the other day.
‘I can explain.’
‘Sure you can,’ he says, shaking his head. ‘I wish you’d never sent the poster.’
‘Sent the poster?’ she says confused.
‘Yeah, you know, the one telling me to come tonight and saying you were sorry for everything. Clearly you aren’t.’
Rosie turns her head to me, and for the second time tonight I’m met with a confused and hurt look.
‘You pretended to be me?’
‘I didn’t pretend to be you, I just wanted to nudge Rupert in the right direction.’
‘Oh great, so it wasn’t even from you. Even better. Your sister is as big a meddler as you are.’
Rupert storms off and Rosie hurries after him.
Alexis, Jenny and Trish are motionless for a moment, as if they’re still processing the argument they’ve just witnessed, but Jenny soon edges closer to him.
‘Listen, he’s not worth it. Just leave him,’ I say to Jenny and Trish before I turn to Alexis and tell him sternly to leave.
‘I wait for you at home,’ he says as he walks past.
Jenny snarls like a dog and I grab her arm to hold her back.
‘The only thing that’s going to be waiting for him at home is a taxi to take him to the station,’ I say to her. ‘I can’t imagine that he’ll stay on in the village after that.’
‘I just feel so stupid,’ she says, tears slowly falling down her cheek. ‘I thought he really got me, you know? Like he was my soulmate.’
I wrap my arm round her to give her a hug. ‘He was very good at convincing people. He had me fooled too.’
‘I just wish I hadn’t splashed out on this new dress,’ she says patting it down.
‘Well, there’s only one thing for it,’ says Trish. ‘We should go and get thoroughly wankered and see if there are any decent men from Lazonby who have come along.’
She loops her arm through Jenny’s and offers her other to me, but I shake my head. ‘I’ll be in in a minute.’
I close my eyes, take a deep breath and exhale loudly.
‘Well, that was dramatic,’ says Liz.
I’d almost forgotten she was there; it’s the quietest she’s been since I met her.
‘I should really see how my sister’s getting on.’
‘She’s having quite the fratch out there. Lots of pacing and shouting.’
I peer out the window and they look as if they’re having a heated argument. At least they’re finally talking; perhaps I should leave them to it.
‘Now, I might not know what’s been going on, but from what I could tell, Jack didn’t seem right pleased that you’d kissed Alexis. And he’s just out there,’ she says, pointing through a side window at Jack sitting on a bench.
I know I probably should just go back in and try to enjoy the dance, but I can’t leave and not talk to him. Especially now that I know he’s single.
‘Wish me luck,’ I say, knowing that the whole town is going to hear of this imminently. I just hope that there’s going to be a good ending to her tale.