Nick almost sinks to his knees on the grass, as the rock in his chest swells to a ten-ton boulder. He was right. There’s no reason to use a K8 other than to create a false identity, one that behaves like a proper auto. This is how she’s concealed her affair from him for so long – by pretending to be someone else!
He digs a little deeper into the code, hoping he’s got it wrong, that this is something stupid and innocent and he’s got it all wrong, must have got it wrong... and realises that in fact there are two programs integrated with her auto, identical to each other.
Two K8s. Two fakes. Two lies.
No choice now, no choice, he has to say something, he has to tell her that he knows, now that he can prove she’s been lying to him –
“Bang it like you hold the gun, bang it like you’re on the run, bang it till you’re having fun, bang it bang it bang it bang it!”
The bellowed lyrics of a new song roll across the garden from inside the house. Nick hasn’t been paying attention to the tracks that the sound system has been playing from his guests’ playlists. But this one makes him jerk round as if hearing a gunshot.
“Bang it like you’re Mister Ex, bang it like you’re on the decks, bang it when you’re coming next, bang it bang it bang it bang it!”
The music is fast, heavy and modern but uses sampled Eighties synths, the sort of thing Drake likes: post-dubporch. It leaves Nick cold, but youngsters love it, and the band Public Property are hot this year, but Nick is still cold, cold to the bone, cold because this song –
“Bang it till they all fall down, bang it so they hear the sound, bang it out all over town, bang it bang it bang it bang it!”
– is Beauty’s favourite track.
Nick stares at his own home with horror, listening to the sound system blast out Beauty’s theme tune.
“Bang it when your secret’s out, bang it so it makes you shout, bang it like a prayer devout, bang it bang it bang it bang it!”
“Oh God no... oh Jesus, please no!”
Nick doesn’t even hear his own voice, or the sound of his feet running against grass, or the surprise of the guests on the patio as he barges right through them. All he can hear is that song.
All he can think is: Beauty’s in my house!
In the kitchen, Nick skids to a halt, stares at the smartscreen on the wall. It’s displaying the profile of the most recent arrival, house visitor 141, a woman called Janet Hall who is part of Larissa’s book club. He frantically gestures at the smartscreen to flick back through the list of arrivals, checking each one. Looking for someone who a) stands out a mile, b) isn’t friends with anyone in his Circle, c) has Public Property’s ‘Bang It’ as their top-rated track, and d)… is half the age of the other guests.
Looking for a teenager.
“Bang it like you’re half-machine, bang it till you break the screen, bang it till you hear them scream, bang it bang it bang it bang it!”
A few people, including Sara and Paul, stroll into the kitchen to refill their glasses. They can’t help but notice Nick waving his hand madly at the smartscreen like a castaway on a desert island spotting a ship. He forces himself to stop. Breathes deep. Turns and offers a smile, getting smiles in return, all of which are about as genuine as... well, he can’t think of anything genuine right now.
Be normal, Nick tells himself. This might not mean anything. Get a drink, then go looking. Make sure Beauty’s not here.
He unscrews one of the iCola bottles recently delivered by the local mini-market, then roots around the worksurface for a clean glass. Behind him, the guests have resumed talking. There’s a soft chime from Nick’s autophone, and he takes it from his pocket to check.
11.51pm Saturday 28 May 2022
Nick Brady was mentioned in a
private message between Paul
Gaskin and Sara Gaskin.
There’s already too much going on in Nick’s head for him to feel anything, as he touches the link for the PM.
What’s up with Nick Brady? Is
he pissed or what?!
No he’s too pussy to drink, prob
just looking for someone to
chat to. Don’t get talking again!
No fear, boring old fart! If it
weren’t for Larissa Brady no
way would I have dragged us
here, her food’s always
amazing.
Yeah saved us going shopping!
Nick stands still, reading the messages that his married friends are discreetly sending each other. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Sara glance his way then turn back, her thumb tapping away on her smartphone.
Nick notices he has the option to add his own message to their conversation. He could tell them he’s read every word. He could whirl round and order them to get the hell out of his home.
He does what he always does, and lets it go.
“Bang the stars and bang the sky, bang the world right in the eye, bang us till it’s time to die, bang it bang it bang it bang it bang it bang it BANG IT!”
The song coming to a crescendo propels Nick out of the kitchen, reminding him that he has to act fast. He moves through the crowds of guests filling the hallway, scanning each face, ignoring a few attempts to speak to him. Suppressed panic is shivering through him, making it hard to think.
There’s no sign of Beauty. Everyone’s too old. He doesn’t recognise most of the people here, although some are bound to be in his Circle. But they might as well be strangers. Feels like he’s opened the front door and invited whoever’s walking past to come into his house.
Dreading what he might see, Nick moves into the living room. On the dancefloor side, Drake is still gyrating madly as ‘Bang It’ slams to an end. Nick allows himself to think that it’s because of him that the sound system has played this song, knowing it’s one of Drake’s faves, yes surely that’s it? Along with a couple of dozen others, Quon is also dancing, still with a beaming smile. His wife Niu stands off to one side, holding his drink for him. Leo stands next to her, shaking his head and complaining about his friends’ appalling taste in music. Diane isn’t with him. Harry’s at the back of the room, leaning against the wall with one arm, accidentally-on-purpose showing off his tattooed bicep as he talks to a different guy, a new target.
And Larissa... isn’t there, isn’t dominating the room with laughter and colour and Trinidadian slang, the way Nick was expecting. Half of his brain sighs with relief, not wanting her to notice that he’s looking for someone. The other half wonders where in the house she’s slipped off to. Which guest is with her. What they’re doing together under his roof...
“Hey, Eleanor!” calls a guy Nick doesn’t know, a thin man wearing Vades™. Eleanor, who Larissa runs the book club with, is still holding court not far away. She turns with a big smile across her chubby face, which sags when the guy adds “You kept those books quiet, you filthy pervert!”
“Excuse me?”
“All those dirty stories you write about Flag! On that erotic fiction site!”
Eleanor’s jaw falls open. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, as if preparing to run. “What... what on earth are you talking about?”
“Yeah, you know!” The thin man is clearly enjoying this. “All the filthy R18 stuff you’ve written about the band! Let’s see, there’s ‘Declan’s Personal Masseur’, ‘Dylan and Geraint Sandwich’... oh this looks good, ‘Tour Bus Gangbang’...”
“No! No, that’s not me, I never…” The KindleBlaze falls from Eleanor’s hands as she clasps them to her face. Through her fingers she moans “How...?”
“All there on your profile, love!” laughs the thin man, tapping his Vades™.
Instantly, everyone within earshot – including Nick – whips up their smartphones and aims them at Eleanor.
Eleanor Ranklin
Starlover.com subscription
number 001634
Membership: Gold
Stories read: 2,297
Stories subm
itted: 188
Average ranking: 4.3 stars
Author library
Author profile page
Nick gets the impression this is supposed to be an anonymous site, as far as its audience is concerned – they never know whose stories they’re reading. But of course the site knows. And Eleanor’s auto knows. And now her private subscription is being displayed on her public profile.
A spectrum of reactions. Shock. Laughter. Delight. Disgust. The book club members gape at their smartphones, all targeting Eleanor like a circular firing squad.
She starts hyperventilating, fumbling for her own phone. “What’s happened, I don’t understand, what did I do wrong, they shouldn’t, I mean, nobody should see those...”
Janet Hall is no longer friends
with Eleanor Ranklin
“Janet!” yelps Eleanor, spinning to face her. “You’ve unfriended me!”
Janet looks up from her smartphone, guilt and surprise plastered over her face. “Er. No, I haven’t. Honest.”
“I can see you have! You’re standing right in front of me and you’ve unfriended me, just because of... oh, how dare you! I’ve known you years!”
Irene MacMillan is no longer
friends with Eleanor Ranklin
Fionnula O’Brannigan is no
longer friends with Eleanor
Ranklin
“You bitches!” squeals Eleanor. “I’m standing right here!”
A few people rush over to calm Eleanor down, aware that heads are turning throughout the packed living room. Her book club melt away from her one by one. Nick also backs away, not wanting to get drawn in. He’s never seen anything like that happen before. Normally when someone deletes a friendship, your auto doesn’t notify you – the number of people in your Circle simply drops. Just like Nick’s did when [Name withheld] realised his auto’s mistake.
He walks on through the huge living room, wondering where his wife is, wondering whether Beauty is here after all...
“Nick! Wicked party!” calls out Drake. He’s standing with a couple of guys, all with bottles in hand, looking this way and that, checking their phones. Single men on the pull. Nick can only smile tightly in return, but Drake’s already swigging his beer and getting on with enjoying himself. “Right, who needs another?”
“Er, no we’re fine. Reckon that’s enough for a bit, Drakey?”
“Oh. Yeah. Yeah, why don’t we all get some water…”
“Eh? Piss off!” demands Drake. “What you talking about, it’s a party man, I’m just getting warmed up!”
But when Nick discreetly points his autophone at him, he understands why Drake’s friends are concerned.
Drake Jackson
Medical monitor status: RED
Diagnosis: Blood alcohol
content above set parameters.
Current BAC: 0.14%
Maximum BAC: 0.08%
NHS ALERT Grade 3. Local
health services informed.
Tesco Health Insurance
violation.
Your new rate is now £49.99 per month. All prior discounts
inapplicable.
It’s a shock to see someone else’s name above a medical monitor, since it’s one of the most private elements of your auto. A lot of expensive designer clothes now contain microbiosensors: impossible to feel against the skin, keeping constant tabs on your cardiovascular stats, blood chemistry, lymphatic system and so on, and warning your auto if anything’s wrong. Drake’s obviously used to ignoring such warnings. But he’s not used to his friends being able to see them too.
“Looks like you’ve drunk a bit more than you’re meant to, mate. You should have told us if your GP set you a limit…”
Drake reddens with anger. “I’m fine! I’m bloody fine, I can handle this much easy!”
“Don’t look like it, your profile’s lit up like a Christmas tree. Look, come and sit down – ”
“Get off me, you arsehole, I ain’t drunk! I ain’t!”
Nick passes them by, frowning. Leo comes through the crowd towards him. His smooth black face is creased with concern, no trace of the smug expression he usually wears. “Hey, Nick, is there something going on?”
“Um... how do you mean?”
“I dunno, I’ve just, like, overheard a few weird things, you know... sorta feels like some people around here are doing things they shouldn’t, know what I mean?”
Nick glances down at his autophone, aimed at Leo.
Leo Travis
Invitation from Sunshine-Online
UK Mega Casino
Premium Membership Offer!
Upgrade for only £29.99 per
month and receive these bonus
games:
200 x roulette!
150 x blackjack!
100 x video poker!
100 x slot machines!
100 x craps!
Sign up now!
“Yeah, I do know what you mean. Er, listen Leo, you might want to take a look at your – ”
“LEOOOO!” Diane’s shriek cuts through the music. She emerges from those who are still dancing, baby-doll face twisting. “What the hell’s this gambling site message all about? You told me you’d stopped all that!”
Leo steps back, fumbling for his phone. “What? What you mean? What you talking about, I’m not on any... shit.”
“You’ve got an account with them! So you didn’t shut it down in the first place, you told me you were giving all that up!”
“I did! Babe, honest, must be some mistake, I don’t know where that’s come from!”
“How much money have you… oh, you lying bastard!” Diane’s tiny hands wave frenetically at Leo like they have swords in them. She pushes past Nick, raging at her husband, and as she does Nick glances again at his autophone.
Diane Travis
Event confirmation
Type: Private appointment
Attendees: Joe Joyce
Sunday 29 May 2022
10.30am to 12.30pm
Starbucks – Covent Garden, 54
Long Acre, London WC2E 9JR
“Babe, easy, Jesus!” Leo’s saying. “I’m telling you this is some weird cock-up, let me see if I can... hang on, what’s this? Who’s Joe Joyce?”
Diane’s arms drop and her voice flattens out, like she’s just been disconnected from the mains. “What. I don’t. Who.”
“Joe Joyce!” shouts Leo, shoving his phone in front of Diane’s face. “The guy you’re meeting tomorrow morning, who the hell is he!”
“A friend. Friend from college. Friend. It’s just coffee. Meeting for coffee. Just coffee.”
Leo stabs at his phone. “He’s an ex! He’s there in your timeline, you went out with him, March to November 2017, there’s pictures of... but he wasn’t there before! And you’re meeting him tomorrow?”
“It’s just coffee!” wails Diane. “He’s married now too, I haven’t seen him in years, it’s nothing!”
Leo’s eyes are massive with anger. “So how come you’re meeting him when you know I’ll be playing football? And how come you never told me he bloody existed!”
“Well how come you never told me you didn’t leave that gambling site! You promised, Leo, you wasted thousands on that!”
Nick sidles away from Leo and Diane, as other guests stop and stare at the sight of their marriage sailing into an unexpected iceberg. His guts are tying themselves into tighter knots than ever.
A figure comes rushing into the living room from the garden, clutching his black-rimmed glasses. “No no no, listen to me Namita, listen, it’s not true, it’s some sort of mistake, I wouldn’t go to a place like that, I don’t know who that’s meant to be, of course it’s not me, Namita listen to me please!”
It’s Amit. Gabbling like a lunatic as he crashes towards the front door.
Nick feels queasy. Amit Chudasama, his unflappable, efficient boss. Panicking as if the world is coming to an end.
“It’s the final count-dowww
wwwwwwn!” belts out Quon at the top of his voice, as the music changes to another slice of musical cheese from his playlist. As the power-chords kick in, he hands his drink to Niu and once again dives to the end of the living room that’s become a dancefloor. As he twists and twirls and sings, he doesn’t notice that the other dancers are backing away, giving him plenty of room. Nick only has to check his autophone to work out why.
Quon Dongming
Event request
Type: Private appointment
Attendees: Rod Mortimer
5pm Tuesday 31 May 2022
Abbey Orchard Street, London
SW1P 2LU
Message: Rod I’ll need 1kg
extra of coke than normal and
300 Es, got some new
customers for you, junior
accountants dead easy to hook.
Also feel like partying next
Friday while wife’s away! Pay
cash as usual.
Standing to one side with her husband’s drink in hand, Niu is swaying to the music and beaming her usual happy smile. She doesn’t notice the growing space around her. She doesn’t notice Nick peering deeply into her life from across the room.
Niu Dongming
Private message from GFE
Companions Ltd
Subject: Client list for w/c 30
May 2022
Hello Niu darling, here’s your
appointments for next week.
Give Hannah a call on Saturday
to pick up your earnings. X
Monday 9pm: Szymon
Ostrowski
home address, PSE, OWO,
CIM, 1 hour, normal rate
Tuesday 11am: Gerry Attwood,
location TBA, GFE, R&T only,
30 minutes, normal rate
Friday 10pm: Thomas
Marshall, Pete Patterson and
Ian McLeish,
Sheraton Park Lane Hotel room
301, usual MMMF, DP etc, 4
Auto Page 13