‘Harper! Itoldyou I wasn’t ready to date!’
‘I know. But I thought maybe if I found someone lovely and set it all up, you might change your mind.’
‘Show me the profile.’
She stretches her hand out, gesturing towards Harper’s phone.
‘Tils …’
‘It’s my profile, I should be able to see it.’
Harper hesitates before reluctantly handing over her phone. Tilly finds the dating app and opens it to see a profile page with her name, a smiling photo of her from a birthday a few years ago, and a brief description listing her hobbies as ‘reading, crafting and meeting new people’.
She spots a new message in the inbox and sees a message from someone called harrybaker90 answering a series of questions from tillyreads92 – aka Harper – about his profession and where he lives. There are a few other message exchanges like this, and as Tilly reads them nausea crawls in her stomach.
Harper watches her, clearly waiting for Tilly to say something, but no words come. She leaves the message thread and clicks through the photo gallery, stopping on one particular photo of her standing on a beach with salt-tangled hair and a wide smile.
‘You cropped Joe out of this photo.’
‘It’s a nice photo of you …’
‘Jesus, Harper. Can you not see how disrespectful this is? You’ve altered a photo of me and my dead husband and posted it for anyone to see, without my permission.’
There are tears pooling in Harper’s eyes and her voice is strained.
‘I was trying to help …’
‘This,’ she says, holding the phone up towards Harper, ‘is not helping. Not only have you completely ignored everything we’ve talked about but you’ve been impersonating me online. What would have happened if harrybaker90 or any of these other guys bumped into me and recognized me? And I had no clue who they were?’
‘OK, maybe I didn’t think of that. But I just thought it might be good for you –’
‘No.’ Tilly flings the phone towards Harper, who just manages to catch it.
‘Tilly, please …’
Harper reaches out for Tilly’s arm but she shakes her off. Because she needs to get away. Coming here was a mistake. She needs to be at home. She needsJoe.
‘Stop. I don’t want to hear it. And I don’t want you to follow me.’
She leaves her sister behind in the moonlit courtyard.
Book Lane Recommends
Dear reader, some epistolary novels you must read. Yours truly, Book Lane
84 Charing Cross Roadby Helene Hanff
Meet Me at the Museumby Anne Youngson
Business As Usualby Jane Oliver and Ann Stafford
The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Societyby Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows
34
Tilly hasn’t spoken to Harper in two weeks. As she walks down the street towards the bookshop she scrolls through their messages.
Harper:
