‘I do know,’ I say emphatically. ‘Totally.’
‘I’ve just had enough of all of this,’ he says, looking me right in the eye. He sounds about a hundred years old as he says it. ‘I just can’t do it any more.’
Him confiding in me feels incredible. I bask in the warmth of the moment, inwardly begging the universe for more like it.
Being in Ted’s presence makes Alice’s small living room feel like a bakehouse. ‘Wow, it’s warm for mid-September,’ I tell the room.
I feel his eyes on me as I pull my jumper over my head–try to make it a bit sexy– to reveal a tighter T-shirt underneath, praying that I don’t yet have sweat stains.
‘Oh my God,’ I hear him say in a low voice from within the folds of my jumper. ‘It’s you.’ And for a split second, I believe I’m hearing the words I’ve wanted to hear for so long. Because itisme. I have truly never felt so on the grid as I do in this moment. Suddenly, all of it– my mum, Johnny, the Harry Potter lampshade, Stevie– is now worth it. Everything that has brought me here to him feels as though it’s been merely a prelude.
But when my head emerges from the jumper, I notice that Ted’s mouth is caught in a hateful, incredulous snarl. I know that kind of snarl from years ago, and it makes me freeze.
Ted walks towards me and touches me on the hip. Is he going to kiss me, here in Alice’s house?
‘These look familiar,’ he says, gesturing at the elephant tattoo. He appears to be heavy in processing mode.
‘I fuckingknowthis tattoo,’ he eventually says, disgusted. His eyes are hateful slits. ‘From Facebook.’
My mouth can only flap on its hinges.
‘What the fuck are you doing here? In this house?’ The whites of his eyes are genuinely petrifying. Full of hate.
I’ve imagined him looking into my eyes a thousand times, our eyes swimming in each other’s souls like deep, cool lagoon pools. But for a fleeting second, I see myself as Ted sees me.
He looks at me as though I’m a fan. A bothersome, pathetic fly to be swatted away from his breakfast. As if I’m Violet, whom he had to block on Facebook. The moment is like a bucket of cold water, poured from a great, cruel height.
‘Ted, what is wrong with you?’ Alice materializes from the hallway. ‘It’s Esther. Naomi gave her the address.’
‘Naomi…?’ He is still pulling the puzzle pieces together, searching for logic, and as he does so, it feels as though I’m falling to the floor.
‘It’s Esther. Naomi’s housemate.’
His eyes dart here and there.
‘The housemate she’s had for the last year? Ted’– Alice laughs nervously– ‘she was only here trying to help.’
‘Alice,’ he booms back, unable to contain his own laughter. ‘She’s a fucking Tedette. One of the goddam Tedettes on that Facebook page.’
He turns to face me fully, and the sense of menace is like a hot breath all over me. ‘You didn’t know I was evenin there, did you?’
I’m too dazed to even fully register that Alice and Ted know who the Tedettes are, much less that he himself saw the Facebook group. How did he get himself in there? Did he become a member? Was it a burner account? How long was he even there? Alice’s face creases into confusion, then a torturous sort of anguish.
‘No, you’re wrong,’ she says uncertainly. ‘Esther lives with Naomi. She’s not one of them.’
Ted wordlessly pulls out his phone, tapping it with fury, and I can just about make out the form of my Facebook profile as he thrusts the phone at her. A few taps, and he brings up the Tedettes’ page. She stares at the phone, blinking. Her eyes rise to meet mine, and I have the exact same stomach-churning feeling you get when you’ve put your handbag, with your whole life in it, down on the floor in a busy pub, only to realize when you go to retrieve it that it’s been stolen and there’s a space there instead. It’s been taken. Except, somehow, you took it yourself.
‘Do you know what they write about me?’ Alice’s voice wobbles. ‘You and I… we’ve talked about that.’
‘Just call the fucking cops,’ Ted bellows. Hearing the ‘c’ word is like a smack in the face after five tequilas. A fire alarm in the dead of night. I have been walked into a whole new reality in five seconds flat, and I’m gasping for air. I feel everything from the last few months– the new life, the power couple, the affection– retreat away from me, and my hands can’t grab at it fast enough.
‘Now, you know that’s not a good idea,’ Alice says, slowly and carefully.
‘Fuck that,’ Ted spits back, pulling out his phone. ‘The things those people have said about you. Written about you.’
‘I know.’ Alice looks at me so sadly. It’s more than I can bear to hear from her.
He taps in 911. Alice is beside him, quick as a flash.
