by Sophie White
Inside, all seemed quiet. Too quiet.
‘Polly? Georgie?’ Ali walked through to the kitchen extension. Georgie’s toys were scattered across the table but nothing seemed off. There was, thank God, no sign of a struggle.
‘Ali?’ Amy called from upstairs. ‘Ali? Come up. This is a bit weird.’
Up two flights of stairs, Ali arrived panting at a room full to bursting with clothes and cosmetics and a professional studio lighting rig. She recognised it as the SHELLY dressing room/office. Apart from some clothes scattered on the floor, nothing looked out of place.
Liv was marvelling, stunned at the sheer volume of brand-new products on the various shelves. ‘She only has one face, like. There aren’t enough hours in a lifetime to put all this crap on.’
‘Ha,’ Amy barked. ‘This is only the stuff in circulation. There’s more in storage and the guest room’s full to the brim with swag. But listen, this seems really off.’ She toed the clothes on the floor with her boot. ‘I am positive this is what Polly was wearing when she arrived earlier and I know for a fact this was Georgie’s #OOTD – it was a bit of sponcon.’ Amy held out her phone with the @GeorgieDevine feed displayed. There was Georgie mugging in head-to-toe floral.
Can’t wait to meet my new baby brother today! I’ll be wearing my fave new #OOTD. I love the new florals campaign by @KidsByKatlyn, they’re the perfect clothes to go see my mamma in the hospital later. #ad #spon #kidswear #coolgirls
‘So, Polly changed them both into new outfits?’ Liv was absent-mindedly running a jade roller over her face. ‘Weird.’
‘We have to find them.’ Ali tore back downstairs to the second floor on the off chance they were, in fact, doing something perfectly innocent in one of the other rooms she hadn’t checked.
I should’ve told Shelly, her thoughts raced as she ducked into each room off the landing. Fuck anonymity. What if Georgie’s in danger?
‘Ali, please calm down.’ Liv jogged down behind her. ‘You’re about to pop, don’t stress yourself into labour prematurely.’
‘Yeah.’ Amy joined them on the landing. ‘I mean, the outfit change seems weird but you never know, Georgie could’ve insisted. She’s like that. So demanding.’ Amy turned to Liv and added, ‘She’s a complete melt, to be honest. We’re never having kids.’
‘You don’t understand. I know stuff about Polly,’ Ali said quietly.
At this Amy snapped her attention back to Ali.
‘What stuff?’
‘She is @__________.’
Amy’s eyes widened.
‘What does that mean? At underscore underscore underscore?!’ Liv was confused.
‘It means Polly’s been stalking and harassing Shelly for months,’ Ali explained. ‘I only found out a few weeks ago, Amy, I swear. And I would’ve told you and Shelly, but it was at CatAnon and I felt like I couldn’t say. It’s against the rules.’
‘Oh Jaysus-fuck,’ Amy moaned. Ali had never seen her anything other than completely unruffled – this reaction was making Ali feel even worse. ‘@__________ is a fucking nutjob, Ali. If it is Polly, it means that she has broken into the house at night to mess with Shelly. God knows what she is capable of.’
‘I know, why do you think I dragged us all over here? I should’ve told Shelly. I just felt torn.’
‘OK, both of you chill your tits.’ Liv tried to soothe them. ‘We will sort this. Like, no offence to you two and your industry, but she’s an Instagram stalker. I’m sure Georgie’s not in danger. Polly or Underscore-whatever is probably just off somewhere tryna get some content for the ’gram or something.’
Ali glared at Liv.
‘Right,’ Amy snapped. ‘I’ll call our Garda contact and get a plan together. Ali, obviously I don’t need to say this but nothing on the ’gram about what you’re doing. I know Shelly’s dilating right now but if she gets the epidural she’ll probably be right back on the phone. We can’t have her see a whiff of this.’
‘Of course, I wouldn’t be ’gramming how I let an insane stalker steal my friend’s child.’ Ali was outraged.
‘Well.’ Amy shrugged. ‘It’d deffo get a lot of eyes on it is all I’m saying.’
Amy returned to the office to make her calls and Ali and Liv headed downstairs.
‘Do you think she means it about no kids?’ Liv looked concerned.
‘Let’s just find this real kid before we start concerning ourselves with your hypothetical ones, please.’ Ali flung herself unhappily on one of the many mink-grey couches down in the kitchen. This was all her fault. She pulled out her phone and automatically opened Insta – it was like a nervous tic.
‘Under the Influence with Jenny is doing an Insta LIVE,’ she reported.
‘I understand the words but have no idea what that sentence means.’ Liv plonked down beside her to look at the phone.
It was Jenny in the passenger seat of a car that seemed to be travelling at speed down the M50.
‘We are sharing updates as and when we’re getting them but it seems that police are in pursuit of a high profile Instagrammer who was initially detained in the car park of Bellissimo’s Beauty Salon in Malahide when she was spotted trying to load an unwilling child into the boot of her car. She managed to evade capture and flee with the child. Police have caught up with her and are imploring her to surrender to authorities.’
‘Shit, I’ll get Amy.’ Liv hopped up and pounded up the stairs.
Ali could see the comments streaming in at the bottom of the screen.
@PoppyLovesTheGoss: My cousin works in Bellissimo’s and she’s confirmed it’s @PollysFewBits. Appara she was in there with Georgie Devine trying to get the Mama-Daughter Special when the little girl freaked saying she wasn’t her mother and that she’d stolen her.
@ModernMaven: No fucking way. Madness. She’s always seemed disappointed that she only had boys. No spa days with the wee fellas. Poor kids to be dragged into this.
@Jenzer2000: Is Georgie still in the boot of the car?
@PoppyLovesTheGoss: @Jenzer2000 no, don’t think so. Under the Influence got closer a while back and it looked like Georgie was in the car seat behind Polly. Front-facing though, I can’t believe these parents with their front-facing car seats.
@ModernMaven: Omg gal, just went over to @PollysFewBits and she is fucking on there shiteing on about how she’s taken her little princess off for a #PamperDay. The child looks terrified. This is Polly’s nervy b happening in realtime.
Ali switched hurriedly to Polly’s Insta as Amy and Liv rushed back in.
‘The guards are already all over it, TG,’ Amy panted. ‘They’ve got some negotiator en route to try to talk her down.’
‘She’s bloody ’gramming everything,’ Ali whimpered. ‘What is happening?’
She held the phone out so Liv and Amy could sit and watch.
The @PollysFewBits LIVE was rolling. It showed Polly driving and smiling maniacally while, beyond her left shoulder, Georgie was trying to bravely answer Polly’s inane questions through the silent tears streaming down her cheeks. From the angle, Polly had the phone in a holder on the dash, but it was clear that she was driving erratically.
‘Aren’t we having the best mama-daughter bonding day? We’re even TWINNING!!!!! Do you love spending time with Mama, sweetie pumpkin pie?’
‘Ye … yes, Polly,’ Georgie gasped.
Polly whipped around to the back seat. ‘What did you just call me???’
‘I … mean … Mama. I love spending time with you, Mama.’ Georgie’s tiny voice was cracking with fear.
‘Oh my God. I can’t watch this.’ Liv looked stricken. ‘We need to turn this off. It’s exploitative. She’s clearly having an episode. Fuck, they have to get that child out of the car. What are all these fuckers saying?’ Liv indicated the bottom of the screen, where more comments were flying.
@PennysFromHeaven: This is the best thing to happen to Sunday in the history of for ever.
@HelenMellon: Oh my God she is unhinged. Can’t. Lo
ok. Away.
Meanwhile, Polly had fixed her mask of manic cheeriness back over the momentary annoyance.
‘Sweetie, oh my goodness,’ she squealed in a syrupy voice. ‘There’s over three hundred thousand people watching our #MamaDaughterPamperDay! Bet those cunts at Bellissimo’s wish they hadn’t made such a fuss now?’
‘Yes, Mama,’ Georgie whispered.
On Amy’s phone, from the Under the Influence LIVE they could see the car swerving dangerously.
‘This is car crash stuff about to become a real goddamn car crash.’ Liv buried her face in her hands.
‘I have to do something.’ Ali stood and began to pace.
‘I’m not sure there’s anything you can do,’ Amy said sadly. ‘The guards are on their way. They have to handle this. I’m gonna call Shelly’s parents to update them. They have to keep this from her.’ Amy slipped out of the kitchen.
The schoolgirls WhatsApp group was hopping with the breaking scandal. Ali couldn’t bear to look at any of the messages. She knew they’d all be gleeful or sanctimonious. Everyone on social media talked about the importance of ‘mental health’ but no one wanted to know about ‘mental illness’, which was exactly what they were all making a spectacle of with their views and shares and comments.
She X’d out of the Insta app and called Polly’s number. Presumably a million people were trying to call her at this moment, but Ali knew this was not her main phone. How many people had the number to what she’d called her ‘batphone’? Ali had to try something. She dialled the number Polly had given her at the first CatAnon.
Incredibly the phone didn’t ring for long.
‘Ali!!!!!’ Polly’s voice was shrill and overly jolly. ‘If it isn’t the little influencer who could.’
‘Polly!’ Shite. Ali had not anticipated her answering and had given no thought whatsoever to what to say should she actually pick up. ‘Polly, it’s so great to hear from you …’ Ali flailed for something to say. ‘Are you going to CatAnon later?’
‘I dunno. I’m pretty tied up today, Ali. I’m doing an Insta LIVE right now.’
‘Oh, are you?’
‘Yep, three hundred thousand people and counting are watching,’ Polly said with relish. ‘That’s the appeal of Mama-Daughter content on Insta. Do you think all these people would be watching me bring the lads to Gaelic? No way, José. Not glam or cutesy enough. But if you can breed a fucking little mini-me to twin with, everyone eats that shit up. You better hope that bump you’ve got is a little girl – a little boy would kill your brand,’ she spat with venom.
Liv, who was following Polly’s side of the conversation on Insta, looked utterly baffled.
‘So, Polly, could you do me a favour? Will you pull over? It’s just … I have something to tell you. And I’m really nervous telling you this big, exciting news while you’re driving.’
‘What are you on about?’ Liv hissed.
‘I dunno,’ Ali said, covering the phone. ‘Everyone is mad for a bit of “exciting news” on the ’gram. I’m breadcrumbing her.’
‘Exciting news?’ Polly sounded suddenly engaged. ‘Exciting news relating to me?’
‘Yep, it’s really big, Polly. I was just talking to an agency that represents influencers and they said something I think you’re going to want to be sitting down to hear.’
‘Oh my gawd!!!!! Do they want to rep me? None of the fucking agents have ever come neeeeear me,’ Polly squealed.
‘I can’t say until you pull over, Polly, seriously. It’s too big. I can’t risk you crashing with the excitement.’
‘It’s mother-fucking-working!’ Liv was shout-whispering and holding out the phone to show Polly indicating, carefully pulling over to the hard shoulder and popping her hazards on.
‘OK, Ali. I’m stopped. Spit it out!!!! I can’t take the suspense.’
Ali paused, watching as three Garda cars pulled up behind Polly with several guards in high vis jackets spilling out and carefully approaching her.
‘Madam?’ Ali could hear the one closest on her end of the call. ‘Madam, kindly hand me the phone and step out of the vehicle.’
‘Officer, I’m on a very important call,’ Ali heard Polly say as Georgie started screaming in the back seat.
‘She’s not my muma. She stole me.’
The line went dead and Ali heaved a grateful sigh of relief as Liv hugged her.
‘You genius! I’ll let Amy know.’
Ali sank back onto the sofa and texted Polly.
I’m sorry for tricking you, there’s no exciting news, Polly. Hope you get the help you need.
Chapter 29
Shelly lay on the bed in her private room, dark only for the bedside lamp and the room diffuser she’d brought from home. She gazed in elated disbelief at the new baby wriggling beside her. She was alone with him for the first time since his birth four hours earlier. Sandra had slipped out for another frantic whispered phone call. She’d been antsy and distracted all afternoon. Presumably Dan was in constant communication – it had not been a part of the plan for her to give birth while he was at the conference in London. She knew he was probably in Heathrow right at this very moment trying to hijack a plane to get back.
Though, honestly, it was, Shelly realised, something of a relief that he wasn’t there. She couldn’t imagine doing the whole wild, frightening, beautiful mess of birth with him. Not anymore. They were more like strangers now and frankly she couldn’t bear the thought of being so vulnerable in front of him.
She ran her fingertip softly around the baby’s face.
‘Hello you!’ she murmured, her lips pressed to his temple. Oh my God, that smell. If you could bottle it …
The birth itself had been much better than she’d expected. Sandra, despite her intermittent phone calls to Dan, had been a very comforting and soothing presence. It made Shelly feel impossibly young to have her mother there with her, encouraging her to breathe and cheering her on during the pushing.
‘What will we call you, my sweet baby?’
He didn’t so much as sigh in response. Four hours old and he barely seemed to realise that he had indeed been born. Since his initial upset at being wrenched from her, he had been sleeping. For the first time since groggily waking from her nap to the pains of birth, Shelly groped for her phone in the bag beside the bed. She was still moving gingerly, though no episiotomy this time, thank God.
She snapped a picture of the baby and herself looking wrung out but delighted. There were hundreds of notifications on her Insta, but she couldn’t face taking so much as a glance and bursting her new-baby bubble. She shared the pic with Amy along with a dozen heart emojis.
Sandra slipped in the door quietly. ‘Ah, I was hoping you’d be getting some sleep. Wait.’ Sandra’s eyes widened. ‘Have you been on the phone?’ She rushed forward and snatched the device from Shelly’s hand.
‘Jesus! What’s wrong? I was just taking a picture.’
Her mother scrutinised her, looking worried and sceptical.
‘What did you see?’
‘Nothing.’ Shelly felt a spike of fear puncture the momentary oasis of calm she’d been revelling in just moments before. ‘What is it? What’s happened?’
‘Nothing’s happened. I just want you to be in this moment with your baby and not online.’ Sandra was brusque.
‘Mam! That’s horrible. Of course I wouldn’t be on the internet at a time like this.’ Shelly could feel her mood flipping abruptly. Hormones. ‘Why are you being like this?’
‘I’m not being like anything. I just want you to get a proper rest, that’s all.’
She’s being weird. Shelly felt a stab of anxiety. What is she so tense about? Luckily, the midwives came around shortly after to kick out visitors. Shelly needed a break from Sandra’s strange edginess.
Sandra was clearly reluctant to leave. ‘Don’t stay up now, Shelly.’ She turned to the midwife. ‘Make sure she rests. No internet – she needs to relax.’
‘No probs, Mammy
, I’ll be keeping an eye on her,’ the midwife promised, smiling.
‘I’m grand, Mam! Nighty-night. I’ll see you tomorrow. You need to get some rest too.’ Shelly blew her a kiss.
As soon as she was certain Sandra must have left the building, Shelly scrambled for the phone. Her mam was acting way too crazy for there not to be something brewing online that she was worrying about her seeing, but what now?
She flicked through her phone rapidly searching for any whiff of scandal. It took about two seconds to find the cause of Sandra’s unease.
‘Influencer Goes Postal on M50 with Kidnapped Child’.
A wave of nausea crashed over her. A smiling picture of Polly with her children’s faces blurred out was the lead image under the headline.
Scrolling quickly through the article, Shelly felt as though every scrap of oxygen had been sucked from the tiny room. Every paragraph revealed a new level of anguish. Georgie being stuffed into the back of Polly’s car? A high-speed chase on the M50? An Insta LIVE of the whole bloody thing?
Shelly struggled to breath. Oh my God. All day I’ve been here in this baby bubble while Georgie must have been terrified. She started crying hysterically and fumbled to dial her mother.
When Sandra answered, Shelly could barely get a full sentence together and Sandra didn’t need her to.
‘I’m coming back, darling. I’ll be right there. Stay calm. Georgie is fine. Everything is fine.’
Shelly could only muster a strangled sob in reply. Incredibly the baby slept on while Shelly wept and tortured herself with clips of Polly’s deranged spree on her phone.
The one relief was that in the media reports Georgie’s identity was being protected but it was clear that everyone on the internet knew exactly who had allowed her child to be kidnapped.
Sandra slipped back in the door, clearly fending off the ire of a midwife intent on enforcing the ward’s visiting hours.
‘My daughter is very distressed.’ She shoved the door closed decisively behind her before rushing to put her arms around Shelly. ‘Oh pet, please don’t cry. Everything is fine now. Georgie is fine now. We just didn’t want to upset you in the middle of the birth. Georgie is with your dad, Dan will be landing shortly and I’m going home to them. Everyone is safe.’