Unfiltered

by Sophie White

  Shelly rolled over and hit the alarm.

  ‘Good morning, Shell-Belles! I am so excited to be bringing you through my morning routine LIVE today with special thanks to our sponsor Kanavan Oats, the oattiest oats you’ll find on the market and the only oats milled right here in Leinster using power from the River Bán. They are the only brand of oats I use.’ She tried not to cringe visibly at the marketing spiel. Clients never got that less was more with these things.

  ‘So, join me now as I prepare myself mentally for my day as a busy mama-of-one and soon to be two! I like to start with some meditation and journaling in my SHELLY journals. Click the link in my bio to order your own if you want to get into intention-setting like me.’

  Pretending to meditate, cross legged on the floor for ten minutes while Amy filmed was in fact a pretty stressful start to the day. She kept fretting that she’d get gas or fall over, but somehow she kept it together through all the fake mindfulness and led Amy and the by now thousands of viewers into her dressing room.

  ‘I always choose my clothes the night before.’ She smiled at the camera. ‘It means I’m not worrying about what to wear in the morning. If any of you have picked up my coffee table book, you’ll know all about my brilliant system from the No Stress to Dress section.’ Amy panned to an artfully arranged tray boasting a scented candle and a couple of framed pics of Shelly and Georgie along with none other than the aforementioned SHELLY book to allow some modesty for Shelly to pull on her jeans, fur-lined loafers and cashmere top. She gave Amy the nod and the camera swung back to her as she fastened her delicate rose-gold bracelets.

  ‘When I’m doing my regular “working mama” day, I always rock my Glam Mama range in collaboration with Newbridge silverware. They’re just so easy to wear and add that bit of sparkle to even a plain old Wednesday. Hit that link in my bio if you wanna treat yourself, Mama!’

  Shelly proceeded down the stairs and called out to rouse the miraculously still-sleeping Georgie.

  ‘Hey, baby girl! Time to get up.’

  She threw a playful wink back at the camera and could see Amy visibly cringe. Whatever, Shelly thought, bustling into the little girl’s room. That’s just the Shelly character. Give the Shell-Belles what they want.

  ‘Mam! Mam!’ Georgie leapt into her arms while Shelly tried to gently but quickly correct her. ‘It’s Mama, pumpkin. Not Mam.’

  She rolled her eyes at the camera as if to say, ‘Kids!’, then she noticed the outfit she’d put out last night was gone and in its place was a manky old Elsa costume that they’d practically had to surgically remove Georgie from when it got too small.

  ‘What did you do with the clothes I put out for you, sweetie?’ Shelly began pulling out drawers, searching.

  ‘I wanna wear Elsa, Mama!’

  Shelly spun around and marched to the white wardrobe in the far alcove. I did put it out. I did. Didn’t I? She flung open the doors but no sign in there either.

  What the f—? She noticed Amy motioning at her to wrap it up and move on. With the LIVE rolling, Shelly couldn’t explain why the missing skirt and top seemed so sinister.

  ‘Right, yes, sweetie, of course you can wear Elsa.’ She knelt down to help her daughter into it. ‘And you didn’t move other clothes that were right there?’ she reiterated but Georgie just shook her head.

  ‘No, Mama.’

  ‘Right, OK. Well, down we go anyway for our delicious and nutritious Kanavan oats. Packed with that all-important slow-release energy to fuel mums and kids all day.’ She concluded the sales speak with a slightly maniacal smile to camera and jogged downstairs after Georgie, whom she could hear squealing with delight.

  She rounded the corner into the kitchen and immediately let out a relieved exhale. Amy had done an amazing job. Thank God. Helium balloons in gold and silver covered the ceiling, and a tiara, a wand and even a wrapped gift decorated Georgie’s place at the table.

  ‘So, we have a very special day in the Devine house, don’t we, pumpkin? How old are you today?’

  ‘Four.’ Georgie grinned into the camera, holding up her fingers. Under her other arm was a wrapped gift. ‘Can I open it, Mama?’

  ‘Of course, you can, sweetie.’ Shelly stood back to give Amy a better angle on the child and mouthed a grateful ‘thank you’ in her direction.

  Amy’s brow furrowed but she kept the camera steady on Georgie.

  ‘Ahhhh, yaya the Share Bear.’ Georgie was jumping up and down, hugging the white furry teddy, and then she flung herself into Shelly’s arms. ‘Thank you, Mama.’

  ‘Oh, happy birthday, my best pumpkin, now sit up and I’ll make you your favourite: Kanavan oats with banana and melty chocolate chips.’

  Amy kept the camera on her as she went over to the kitchen to get the porridge on.

  ‘So, Shell-Belles, I’ve got a couple of minutes for questions while I stir the porridge. You can speed up the cooking process by pre-soaking overnight and for more top tips on top toppings, go to www.Kanavans.ie.’

  Amy read the first question from behind the camera.

  ‘@MummyLovesABargain asks: How do you make it all look so easy, Shelly?’

  Oh, this stuff made Shelly’s skin crawl. She could hear herself giving these saccharine beige answers and always pictured the people who hate-followed her laughing their asses off.

  ‘Well, I think the biggest thing that I use to keep calm and focused and not let myself get overwhelmed is gratitude. If I’m ever feeling the pressure from my hectic, always-on for my job, always-on for my baby girl lifestyle, I just take a minute to breathe and count three things I’m grateful for.’

  ‘@LizzieGG says: Your skin’s amazing, what’s your biggest skincare tip?’

  ‘Well, eating right, so starting my day with a big bowl of Kanavan’s porridge! Then lots of water and smoothies – oats are a great addition to any smoothie, plus I often make an old-fashioned face mask by mixing soaked oats with honey and an egg white. So, oats, oats and more oats! OK, last question because my lil monkey is getting hungry!’

  ‘@ShinyHappySinead asks: Do you ever get tired of being so fake all the time?’

  Shelly’s stomach dropped and she gripped the counter to steady herself for a moment.

  ‘Wha … What?’

  Amy looked irritated and repeated in a bored voice, ‘@ShinyHappySinead wants to know if you ever get tired of being so fab all the time?’

  ‘Oh, ha. Right.’ Shelly scrambled after her thoughts and tried to calm her jangling nerves. ‘Fab. Well, no, I mean, not no. I mean, I don’t really think of myself as fab. At all. But thank you for saying that, eh, ShinyHappySinead. On that lovely note, I’m going to give my birthday girl her brekkie, so thanks for joining me for my Morning Routine and thank you so much, Kanavan Oats, for supporting hard-working mamas. Happy Wednesday, everyone!’

  Shelly waved and concentrated on tipping the porridge out into bowls and then, as soon as the camera was off, into the bin. Georgie wouldn’t touch the stuff. She quickly got the cereal out from the cupboard and turned the coffee machine on.

  Amy plonked herself on a stool on the other side of the island. ‘Well, that is one thing off this never-ending list. How are you?’

  ‘I’m fine now. Obviously, I was freaking last night! God, what am I like to forget?!’ Shelly dropped the Coco Pops to Georgie along with her iPad to keep her entertained.

  ‘Oh yeah,’ Amy murmured, head in phone. ‘So, you got sorted anyway. Sorry I didn’t grab anything. I was up against it timewise.’

  ‘What? You mean you didn’t do this?’ Shelly swayed as if the floor were tipping and grabbed the empty chair beside Georgie to regain her balance but accidentally tipped it over in her unsteadiness.

  ‘Jesus.’ Amy sprang up. ‘What’s the matter?’ She righted the chair and steered Shelly to a stool at the peninsula away from Georgie.

  ‘You …’ Shelly was struggling, groping in darkness to make sense of what this meant. ‘You didn’t do this?’ She waved a hand to take in
the room full of balloons and birthday paraphernalia.

  ‘No.’ Amy looked questioning.

  Shelly dashed to the sliding doors. They were locked. She began to run from window to window. All locked. Just as they had been the night before. She flew out to the hallway calling for Amanda, who appeared at the top of the stairs, evidently startled by the note of panic in Shelly’s voice. Shelly tried to calm herself.

  ‘Amanda, did you put out balloons and stuff for Georgie’s birthday?’

  Why are you bothering? You know the answer, she thought grimly.

  ‘No, luv, sure I was in the door and straight up to you. I didn’t even go into the kitchen.’

  By this point Amy had joined her in the hall.

  ‘What is going on?’

  Shelly ignored her.

  ‘Was the alarm on when you came in, Mandy?’

  ‘Yes, hun.’ Amanda came down and stood by Amy. Shelly could feel their concerned looks as she hurtled into the living room and continued her frantic check of all the entry points. The windows in there were all secured. She rushed back to Amy and Amanda in the hall and tried to compose herself.

  ‘I think we need to call the guards. Someone came in here last night. There’s no doubt. They disabled the alarms and they set up the party stuff.’

  ‘Shelly, calm down.’ Amy was using her ‘take charge’ voice, which usually comforted Shelly, but Shelly could see her assistant glancing around the hall nervously. Even she’s freaked out.

  ‘What about Dan? Could he have come in?’ Amanda suggested.

  Shelly pulled out her phone. Dan was the last person in the world who would think of laying out a birthday surprise but still Shelly dashed off a quick WhatsApp.

  Did you come back to the house last night? And leave out birthday bits for Georgie? Balloons and stuff?

  She knew it wasn’t him. Men didn’t think like that. In the four years since Georgie’s birth, Dan had never once so much as cut his daughter’s nails, for God’s sake. What does he think? That the child has some magical self-trimming nails? No, it wasn’t Dan. She just knew it.

  She saw him typing and a message appeared seconds later.

  Nope. Tell Georgie I’m bringing her prezzie on Saturday, K?

  The Direct Message icon flickered as always over the Insta app. Shelly tapped it. The latest message was from @__________. Surprise, sur-fucking-prise.

  ‘What is it, Shell? Is it Dan?’ Amy’s tense voice sounded far away, as if she were in the next room and not right beside Shelly. Anxiety was strange like that. It could turn down the volume of any room and dial up the roaring terror inside in seconds.

  ‘It’s a message from @__________,’ she heard herself say.

  Good thing I’m Always Watching and listening, right? I have your back, hun.

  Amy peered at the message over Shelly’s shoulder. ‘Fuck,’ she breathed. ‘Right, I’m calling the guards. And your mum. You can’t stay here until the locks are changed and the alarm is reset.’

  Amy immediately launched into action, hustling Amanda upstairs and embarking on a series of frenetic calls to get the house secured. Shelly drifted back into the mercifully quiet living room and sank onto the sofa.

  She felt raw and exposed. While she’d known that @__________ had been around the house, peering in windows and capturing private moments, the thought that they had walked right in last night while she and her daughter were asleep upstairs made her feel sick to her stomach. How had she not sensed the intruder? Had @__________ padded gently up the stairs to watch them sleep? Then Shelly remembered the clothes in Georgie’s room and helpless tears pushed through her feeble attempt at remaining calm. This person had stood within feet, maybe inches, of her sleeping child. And it was all Shelly’s fault. All because she’d wanted the likes and the attention. The free stuff. To be admired and envied.

  Her stomach roiled with fear and disgust at herself and what she’d brought on them. This psychopath had trained her gaze on Shelly’s life and Shelly had practically ushered them in. And now they weren’t safe in their own home because Shelly hadn’t taken it seriously enough. She’d only been thinking about her reputation and the embarrassment of people seeing her dumb photos. She’d never considered that she’d been offering her daughter up on a platter.

  A heavy weight settled over her, a weight that went far beyond the gargantuan bump that felt as if it literally couldn’t get any bigger. It was exhaustion and fear, but she knew she needed to get back in control of the situation. Shelly shivered despite the mid-morning sun streaming through the taupe velvet curtains. Her mind was reeling. @__________ could be anyone and it was looking more and more likely that they were a complete stranger. And a dangerous one at that. A dreadful thought veered into her head:

  I could meet them at an event, in the street, anywhere and have no idea, Shelly thought bleakly.

  Shelly passed the day in a haze. She couldn’t focus on any of the upcoming events Amy was pressing her for answers on. By 7 p.m., the locksmith had redone every ground floor door and the alarm company had reprogrammed the codes. Her mum and dad were installed in the spare room and Shelly was counting the minutes until she could just hit the pillow and put this horrible day behind her. She’d been unable to get a hold of Detective Bríd. Contact had been patchy since their last communication just over two months before. Some backlog in the department had pushed Shelly’s complaint way down the list and they still hadn’t examined her phone. Shelly felt stupid for not having followed it up. The truth was she’d had a lot on between the W Y N D rollout, Durty Aul’ Town and researching her rights regarding the house. It was weird what you could get used to over time. She hadn’t taken @__________ seriously enough and now they’d been inside her daughter’s bedroom.

  The young guards who’d come to take her statement had looked positively bored at her anguished retelling of the morning’s events.

  ‘So, someone set up a birthday party? And you’re … upset?’ said the dark-haired one with the patchy, ginger beard.

  Amy had nearly gone for him and Shelly’d lost a nail trying to hold her back. It definitely felt as if they were all barely keeping it together. Shelly’d even had a complete meltdown during Georgie’s bedtime. Georgie was kicking off about what pyjamas she wanted to wear and at that point Shelly’s sanity was holding on by a thread.

  Shelly’d actually given the little girl the finger when she’d turned around and flounced over to her frilly princess bed. It was unbelievably childish, Shelly knew, but also unbelievably satisfying in that maddening and frustrating moment.

  She walked through the house performing her nightly check for the camera on her phone. It was a shitty end to a shitty day, but she was relieved Sandra and Jim were up in the spare room watching Bake Off. As well as the doors and windows, she carefully checked the utility room and the cupboard in the hall under the stairs.

  This is what it’s come to, she thought bitterly. I’m frightened in my own home. @__________ was getting exactly what they wanted. Shelly climbed to the third floor and tried to immerse herself in her evening routine. She massaged her bump and then her face and even took a few drops of the CBD oil her mother had brought over. She got into bed and tried to relax but the weight had settled once more on her chest and she found she was having trouble getting a full breath. The panic was circling, and she knew if she allowed her mind to wander back once more to thoughts of a stranger prowling through her house, it would easily grip her.

  ‘Calm, calm, calm,’ she whispered just as Berna had advised. ‘I’m calm, I’m safe.’

  They can’t get you now, Shelly thought while trying not to think too hard about how close they’d come. All this time, she’d felt she was overreacting or imagining things, but the balloons were real. As was the message: I’m Always Watching and listening. @________ had heard her leave the voicenote for Amy. She was sure of it. How else could they know?

  Shelly’s phone vibrated beside her and she grabbed it before she thought to question wh
ether it was a good idea to check the notification.

  A message from @__________.

  Don’t read it, Shelly, some sensible part of her warned but her fingers moved as though of their own accord. @__________ had sent a story from another account. Shelly tapped it and came face to face with herself. It was footage from just hours before of her shouting and then giving Georgie the finger. How did they have this? It was posted to the @TheRealShellyDevine account. There were still no followers on the account but now the threat of exposure hung like an axe above Shelly’s head.

  Chapter 21

  ‘OK, can I get a bit of hush?’ Terry shot a look at Liv and Amy, who were front row centre, heads together, whispering and quietly laughing.

  They’d arrived just minutes before to catch the last run-through of the day and Terry was desperately trying to keep focus among the crew. With My So-Called Best Life now a multimedia piece of theatre, the pressure to nail cues and monitor the pace of Ali’s delivery was considerably more intense. With two characters being pre-recorded projections, Ali couldn’t so much as draw an unrehearsed breath in her own delivery or it could throw the timings for the rest of the play.

  ‘Scene one, cue Ali, cue Thirsty Ali.’ Johnny, one of the techs, pushed the life-sized smartphone onto which the pre-recorded character of Thirsty Ali was projected for all her dialogue to centre stage. Ali stepped up to her mark, a tiny ‘x’ at stage left, as Terry continued directing. ‘Cue Rational Ali and lights.’ An actor called Martina ‘played’ Rational Ali. She stepped up to stage right in her all-white bodysuit and white balaclava. Ali’s performance of all Rational Ali’s dialogue was projected onto Martina and she moved perfectly in sync with Ali’s original movements.

  Ali stood in the lights, holding a plastic tub in the shape of an urn, regarding a mound of cat litter scattered on the stage beside her. In more than five weeks of development and rehearsals, the show had certainly become a lot more ambitious, but Terry was ecstatic with their progress.