Laura Page 5

  “Are you okay?” Thor asks finally.

  I sniff back more tears, but I don't want him to see my face yet. I'm such a goddamn embarrassing mess.

  “Maybe you should take the rest of the day off,” he continues. “Come back tomorrow and we'll find something else for you to do. I don't want to lose you from the team, Sophie. I just think we need to find a role that plays more to your strengths. Whatever those might be.”

  With my head still in my hands, I nod, although I'm not sure he'll notice. My whole body is trembling and I can feel more and more tears filling my eyes. Frankly, right now I don't even know that I can get up and walk out of here. Even the short run to the bathroom would take me through the office, and everyone would see that I'm a mess.

  “It's okay,” Thor says after a moment, sounding a little concerned. “Take your time. And you know what? Maybe take two days off. Yeah. I think that'd be good. Take two, Sophie. Maybe you've been working too hard.”

  Chapter Seven

  Ten years earlier

  “God, she is such a slut!” I mutter as I pour myself another cup of coffee. “I heard them at it all last night. I thought she was, like, waking the whole house.”

  “I was sleeping like a baby,” Elliot replies, flicking through his big, fat book on film theory. “This essay is driving me to the brink of madness.”

  “I thought you'd crossed that brink a while back,” I reply with a grin.

  “Hilarious.”

  “Seriously, though,” I continue, “Laura's like -”

  Before I can finish, I hear footsteps in the room above. A moment later there's the sound of a door creaking open, and then two people make their way down the stairs. I glance at Elliot and we exchange a knowing look, while we listen to the hushed voices in the hallway. Laura is showing her latest conquest out of our shared house, and a moment later we hear the front door opening and then swinging shut. Finally, Laura wanders through to join us in the kitchen. It's past lunchtime and she's recovering from another drunken one-night-stand, but somehow her hair is neat and tidy as usual. How the hell does she always manage that?

  “Hey there,” I say, unable to stifle a smile.

  “Hey.” She heads to the fridge and grabs a carton of milk, before turning to me. “What's that look for?”

  “Fun night?”

  “You mean Joe?” She shrugs. “He was just...” She hesitates, and then she drinks from the carton.

  “Do you keep a list?” Elliot asks with an amused frown. “What if you accidentally sleep with a guy you slept with before? I've gotta say, I'd be starting to lose track by now.”

  She turns to him, clearly not amused. “Lose track of what?”

  “You know... How many guys you...meet...”

  His voice trails off, and finally he mumbles something under his breath as he looks back down at his book.

  “You were kind of loud,” I tell her. “Not that I'm complaining, but I could definitely hear you having fun while I was in my room. In fact, it sounded like you had fun at least three times, and Joe had fun... What was it, twice?”

  “That's really none of your business,” she replies a little snappily. “I wasn't aware that my private life was being monitored.”

  “It's not really that private,” Elliot mutters, turning a page in his book. “Not when it's so loud.”

  She turns to him with an absolutely disgusted expression.

  “Hey slut!” Lynn says suddenly, bounding through from the hallway and patting Laura's shoulder as she passes. “Sounded like you were having a good one last night. All that moaning and groaning, and telling him to go harder and harder. I was kinda jealous.”

  “Does no-one in this house mind their own business?” Laura asks, heading to her cupboard and taking out a pack of crackers.

  “I'm not criticizing,” Lynn continues, grabbing a plate of veggie cutlets from last night and turning to her. “You were pretty loud, though. I particularly liked the part where you made him stop to file his nails a little. I mean, seriously girl, I admire a lady who knows what she wants and tells the guy without mincing her words.” She takes a cutlet and starts chewing. “I kinda respect you in some ways,” she adds, with crumbs on her lips. “After all, it's the twenty-first century. Why shouldn't we girls be a little slutty if we wanna be? Boys shouldn't have all the fun.”

  Glancing at Laura, I see an expression of pure thunder on her face.

  “What happened to that Mike dude, anyway?” Lynn asks, as she chews another cutlet. “He seemed nice.”

  “I traded up,” Laura replies through clenched teeth.

  Lynn laughs, inadvertently spraying a few crumbs across the breakfast bar.

  “There's nothing wrong with trading up,” Laura continues. “If I'm with a guy and he has shortcomings, I absolutely reserve the right to ditch him and go with someone who's a better specimen of masculinity. I'm not going to settle for someone who's sub-standard.”

  “Totally,” Lynn giggles, as more crumbs fall from her lips, “but -”

  “And do you have to speak with your mouth full?” Laura snaps. “It's like watching a toddler! It's disgusting!”

  Rolling her eyes, Lynn wipes her lips and shoves the rest of the cutlet into her mouth.

  “No-one's criticizing you,” I tell Laura, hoping to calm the situation just a little. I always seem to end up playing the role of peacemaker in this house. “I guess we're all just impressed, that's all. I mean, it's good for a girl to be more active.” I turn to Elliot. “Don't you like it when girls stop messing around and just say what they want?”

  He turns to another page in the book, before suddenly looking at me. He seems totally startled and deeply uncomfortable.

  I smile. “Don't you like it when a girl is more direct and open about what she wants, rather than making you have to guess all the time?”

  He stares at me, as if he's completely lost in the conversation. “Um... Sure. I mean, I guess. I mean... I...”

  I can't help grinning. Elliot's cute, but when it comes to women he's totally and utterly lost. I swear, a girl would pretty much have to strip naked and leap into bed with him before he'd realize she was interested. Back when we first met, I gave him some pretty major signals, and he seemed oblivious. At the time I just thought he wasn't into me, but now I realize he's just majorly bad at interpreting things. Sometimes I catch myself wondering if I should have been more direct with him, more like Laura, but that's not my style. I like the guy to take the initiative. I'm not the kind of girl who wants to climb onto a guy and force the issue. A little romance never hurt anyone.

  “I've gotta get to class,” Lynn mutters, with more food still in her mouth, “but I'll catch you bitches later.” She grins at me before heading around the breakfast bar.

  “Aren't you going to clean up your plate before you leave?” Laura asks.

  “I'll do it later, slut,” Lynn replies with a smile. “And by the way, three different guys inside of a week is actually kinda -”

  “What did you call me?” Laura shouts, suddenly grabbing Lynn by the shoulders and pushing her against the wall. “Do you want to say it again? Do you want to say it right to my face?”

  “Hey!” I stammer, hurrying over to pull them apart. “Laura -”

  “Do you want to call me a slut again?” she asks a shocked, slightly bemused Lynn, while still pressing her into the wall. “Or maybe you've got a few other adjectives you'd like to try? You seem pretty pleased with yourself this morning, and I'd hate for you to feel like you have to go behind my back with your little list of insults, so please... Let's get them out of the way right now!”

  “She was joking,” I tell her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Laura, just -”

  “Who were you calling a slut?” she yells.

  Lynn stares back at her for a moment, before bursting out laughing. Laura, meanwhile, has a face of pure, cold anger, and for a moment I actually worry that she might turn violent. Before I have to intervene any further, however, La
ura lets go of Lynn's shoulders and steps back, as if deep down she finally realized that she might have gone too far.

  “You're classic,” Lynn chuckles, heading out into the hallway. “I love you, Laura. Never change!”

  “Are you okay?” I ask Laura, who seems almost frozen.

  “I'll give you two a moment,” Elliot mutters, grabbing his books and making his way through to join Lynn. “I'll see you up at uni, Sophie.”

  “Sure,” I reply, while keeping my eyes fixed on Laura. Something about the look in her eyes is scaring me a little. Sometimes, I feel as if she's really holding back a darker side of herself. “You know she was joking, right?” I ask after a moment. “Laura? Come on, you know what Lynn's like, she doesn't take these things very seriously. She talks first and thinks later. That's if she even thinks at all.”

  I wait for a response, but Laura is still staring straight ahead, seemingly watching the wall. In fact, she doesn't even seem to be aware that I'm talking to her, and she doesn't react to the sound of Elliot and Lynn getting ready to head out the front door.

  “Laura,” I continue, forcing a smile, “please, just -”

  “Seeya later, slut!” Lynn calls through.

  Suddenly Laura turns and looks toward the hallway, as we hear the front door opening and then swinging shut. Finally we're left alone in the house, just the two of us, but I swear there's a kind of cold steel in Laura's eyes, something I've never seen before in the few years I've known her. Hell, if I didn't know better, I'd be slightly scared right now.

  “Come on, seriously,” I continue, trying to make light of the situation, “chill out. You're starting to act all psycho!”

  She pauses, before turning to me. Finally a faint, but not particularly convincing, smile reaches her lips.

  “I'm fine,” she replies, as if some kind of momentary anger has passed.

  “She was just fooling around,” I point out. “I know it wasn't very nice, but she didn't mean it.”

  “Yes she did,” she continues. “Apparently I'm a slut. I hadn't realized before, but now that Lynn has brought it to my attention...”

  Her voice trails off, and for a moment she seems to be on the verge of tears. I've never seen Laura cry before, and suddenly she slips past me, heading to the stairs.

  “Do you want to walk to uni together?” I call after her, but she doesn't reply. She simply hurries up to her room, and a moment later I hear her door slamming shut.

  I wait, but now the house is silent again.

  “This is way too much drama for me,” I mutter, grabbing my backpack and heading through to the hallway. “Why can't people just chill out more?”

  Chapter Eight

  Today

  “Come on, it's nothing,” Toby says with a smile as we sit in Hyde Park, eating lunch. “So a client got peeved about something. So what? The guy's probably a jerk, anyway. You're too good for those assholes, anyway.”

  “It wasn't just one client,” I reply, feeling as if somehow his attempts to make me feel better are actually having the opposite effect. “It was two clients, within less than twenty-four hours of each other. I thought I was doing really well at this new job, and now I feel like I'm on the verge of getting fired.” I pause for a moment. “The worst part is, I burst into tears like some kind of stupid kid!”

  “Couldn't that just be the...”

  He hesitates.

  “The hormones?” I turn to him. “Of course it's the hormones. I'm a seething cauldron of unpredictability right now, but the one thing I never really doubted was that I could get my work done. And I'm not using hormones as an excuse! I'm just -”

  Suddenly I turn and look over my shoulder. For a moment, I swear I felt as if someone was leaning close to me from behind, but there's nobody there.

  “Sophie?”

  I turn back to Toby.

  “Nothing,” I mutter, figuring that I'm just a little edgy.”

  “Forget those assholes at work.” He leans closer and kisses the side of my neck. “You're better than them.”

  Feeling a buzzing sensation in my pocket, I take out my phone and see that it's another message from Elliot, asking how my day's going. I unlock the screen and type a quick reply, telling him I'll call later.

  “Elliot again?” Toby asks.

  “He just wondered how I'm doing.”

  “Does he know about what happened at work?”

  I nod. “I told him while I was coming here to meet you.”

  “You did, huh?”

  Slipping my phone away, I turn to him. “It's like suddenly everything changed. One day I was good at my job, all my clients were happy, and then it's like something happened behind the scenes. Something reached into my life and just unsettled everything.”

  “Maybe you've got a secret enemy who's trying to sabotage you,” he suggests with a smile.

  “I'm not quite at the paranoid stage,” I mutter, “but...” I pause, staring across the sun-drenched park and feeling, just for a moment, as if my whole world is imploding. I know I'm probably overreacting because of my haywire hormones, but that still doesn't make it any easier. I have a great husband, we have our own house, I'm six weeks pregnant and I like my job. Life should be perfect. This is the time when all the chaos should be flattening out and everything should be making sense.

  Over by the trees, there's a figure standing in a patch of shadow. I can't make her out properly from this distance, but she seems to be staring straight at me, which is a little strange. I raise a hand to shield my eyes from the sun and I squint, hoping to get a better view.

  Feeling another buzzing sensation, I check my phone again. I figure it's just Elliot fussing, but I'm surprised when I see a message from Lynn.

  “I just saw Facebook and Twitter,” the message reads. “Are you okay? Who the hell would do something like that to you?”

  ***

  “Oh God,” I stammer, barely able to breathe as I hurry across the kitchen and grab my phone again. “This can't be happening!”

  “It's going to be okay,” Toby replies, following and putting his hands on my waist from behind. “We'll get them to take the photos down and -”

  “You can't take them down!” I shout, turning to him with tears streaming down my face. “Don't you understand? It's the internet! Once they're there, they're there forever!”

  “Sophie -”

  “Nobody can take them down!” I hiss, holding my phone up for him to see one of the many, many doctored photos of me that has been posted over the past few hours. In this particular photo, taken at a drunken uni party years ago, I'm lounging on a beanbag with a beer in one hand and a joint in the other. Someone, however, has altered the picture to make it look as if I'm topless. “Whoever put these photos up,” I continue, my voice trembling with shock, “was very careful to tag me in them, and they also tagged everyone I know! My family, my friends, people at work...”

  “We've already reported all the pictures,” he replies, clearly not understanding the scale of the problem. “After an hour or so, they'll all be -”

  “People can save them!” I point out. “I'll always know they're out there now! They're -”

  Before I can finish, my phone beeps again as yet another notification arrives in my inbox. Even before I look at the screen, I know that it's another photo tag, and my hands are trembling as I tap to take a look. I figure it's yet another picture of me looking drunk and slutty, but when the next picture comes up I realize it's just a big, blurry blob.

  “What the hell is that?” I whisper, turning the phone around as I try to figure out what I'm seeing.

  “Let me see,” Toby says, tilting the phone so he can take a look. “Whatever it is, it's out of focus.”

  There's another beep, and I swipe to the newest picture. It's blurry again, although the blur seems quite pale, maybe a little pink. Whoever's uploading these photos, they're doing it right now, in real-time from an anonymous account, and there's nothing I can do to stop them. Sure enough, a mom
ent later another notification arrives, and I swipe to check the latest picture.

  And that's when I freeze, and I feel my blood starting to run cold.

  This picture is not from the party. This is from a different night, when I was with my old uni boyfriend Tommy. We were dumb, maybe a little drunk, and one night we started experimenting with a camera. Staring at a photo of me laughing in bed, wearing nothing more than an old t-shirt and a pair of knickers, I feel a shiver running through my chest as I realize that if someone has gotten hold of this picture, then they must have all the other images and videos that Tommy and I took that night. There's nothing explicit in any of those photos, but they were supposed to be private.

  “Oh no,” I whisper, as fresh tears fill my eyes, “please, no, please God...”

  Another notification beeps into my inbox, followed swiftly by another and then another. They seem to be coming faster and faster now, and I swipe through to see that my worst fears are being realized. Some of the photos are genuine, showing me laughing and having fun, while others have been altered to make it looks as if I was naked and doing the most awful things. There's even a video, and I make the mistake of clicking to play it. Sure enough, it's a video of us laughing on the bed, but suddenly it cuts to a shot of a girl's naked body. It's not my body, but no-one would ever believe that. I've been set up.

  “Jesus,” Toby mutters, having picked up my phone again. “Sophie -”

  “Don't look!” I sob, grabbing the phone and pulling it away with such force that it slips from my hand and flies across the kitchen. “They're not real!”

  “Sophie -”

  “They're fake!” I stammer. “They're fake, they're...”

  I take a deep breath, before realizing that I can't lie. Not to Toby.

  “They're old,” I continue. “Really, really old. They're from before I met you. They were taken with an ex-boyfriend, back when I was a complete idiot. Please don't think I'm an awful person. We were just fooling around, it was years before I met you! The ones where I'm wearing clothes are real. The other ones, the naked ones, are completely fake!”