‘I’m worried about you, Rox,’ Owen continued. ‘It’s not normal to spend this much time online.’
‘I’ve got something important to tell you,’ she announced. ‘I know how to take my Vlog to the next level and make my mark as an Influencer.’
‘Of course,’ he said with a smile that failed to reach his eyes. ‘What else would this be about?’
‘I’m going to be the new Jem Jones. There’s a gap in the market and if I’m quick and I’m clever, then I can fill it.’
‘And how will you do that, exactly?’
‘By being the voice of the modern woman. By representing people like me. I’ll talk about issues that affect us all. Jem’s legacy is that Influencers are now seen as more than clothes horses, canvases for make-up or chefs. But she was too weak for the world we live in. I’m much stronger than her. I won’t obsess on the negativity.’
‘But these lives you want to emulate, like Jem’s and Autumn Taylor’s, they aren’t real, Rox,’ Owen continued as he slipped on a t-shirt. ‘They’re only showing you their best bits. Vlogging and Influencing is all smoke and mirrors.’
‘Thanks a lot for your support,’ Roxi huffed.
‘I’d support you one hundred per cent if I thought it was good for you or our family. But it’s a pipe dream. You gave up work to raise a family and, if you think they’re at an age where they don’t need you like they used to, perhaps it’s time to get back out into the working world and find a real job?’
‘Vlogging and Influencing are real jobs.’
Owen grimaced as he took a deep breath and shook his head. ‘They are when you’re a teenager and, at a push, in your twenties, but not when you’re a woman approaching her forties.’
Roxi wanted to tell him that she was worth more than she had become, but held her tongue. She looked to the Audite atop of a chest of drawers and spotted a faint red light circling the rim, just the once. She knew that, as well as their words, it also picked up on what they weren’t saying through the volume of their voices and their tone. ‘I think it’s listening to you,’ she mouthed.
‘At least somebody is,’ he mouthed back.
Their visibly distraught daughter Darcy appeared suddenly at the doorway.
‘TikTok, Insta and Snapchat, they’ve cancelled my accounts!’ she sobbed. ‘They say I’m too young.’
‘What’s the minimum age?’ asked Owen.
‘Thirteen. So now I’ve lost every photo and every video I’ve ever posted.’
Roxi considered climbing off the bed to comfort her daughter but changed her mind. That wasn’t the nature of their relationship. Instead, Owen brought Darcy into his chest and kissed the top of her head. He was better at this kind of thing than she was. But it didn’t stop Roxi from feeling a small stab of envy at their closeness. And there was no remorse for having reported her daughter’s accounts to their service providers. If she was going to become Jem’s replacement, how could she be taken seriously with a twelve-year-old daughter who had more followers than her?
8
Corrine
Corrine poked her head out of the door and cocked it toone side. She couldn’t hear the kids in their bedrooms or her husband in his office at the end of the landing. She returned to her room, closed the door and removed from her handbag a burner mobile phone she’d purchased from a twenty-four-hour convenience store the previous night. She dialled Old Northampton’s accident and emergency department and, several voice-activated options later, she finally reached a human.
‘Hello,’ she began quietly. ‘I’d like an update on a young man who was admitted in the early hours of yesterday morning?’
The reply was curt. ‘Name?’
‘Nathan.’
‘Surname?’
‘I’m not sure.’
‘Your relationship to him?’
‘A . . . colleague.’
A moment’s silence followed and, when Corrine thought the woman had hung up, a ringing tone sounded.
‘Who am I speaking to?’ a male voice began.
