Page 76 of Mad About You

The worst part of Scott’s post wasn’t Scott’s words, but the response he incited.

Seeing a twisted catalogue of defamatory fictions about herself from him was deeply unpleasant, but Harriet already loathed Scott. She knew he had a competing narrative about their years together, which he used as both attack and defence, and she had always accepted versions of this had been relayed to third parties. This was more a refresher course in how Scott Dyer operated, than revelation. However, she’d always had an unexamined yet comforting conviction that if they heard her side, they’d start changing their mind.

But maybe not? Because now he’d gone public, the unequivocal response from the crowd was the truly disturbing dimension. As hot, angry tears slid down her cheeks, Harriet scrolled through a hailstorm of affirmations of Scott’s story, in the form of fury, judgement and disgust towards her. People with no authority to come to their conclusions, who nevertheless knew for sure that she was utterly void as a person. It was like being at her own trial, except the charge sheetkept lengthening, the jury had already returned a Guilty verdict and none of the witnesses knew her.

The post was twenty-four hours old and had 1.4k Likes, 960 shares, and hundreds upon hundreds of comments. Many of those had hundreds of Likes, other men pouring their heart out about their ordeals with abusive women, other women saying what an impressive, emotionally self-aware man Scott was.

She could see it unfold, as when Harriet read the essay again, she noticed the line,‘I don’t even know if H will see this’and recognised it, with a noise of strangled fury, as coded provocation. Scott was always more savvy about the socials than her. It dawned on Harriet that he’d have purposely designed it so she could view it, like cheese crumbing the mouse to the trap. Harriet figured he’d have looked her up, seen that she had two accounts, and only blocked the personal. Sure enough, via her photography profile, she had free access. What an unfortunate oversight. Her hands shook as she scanned the thread.

Of course Scott wouldn’t want to risk Harriet not spectating this tsunami of ill will towards her – that was the point.

The level of thought anyone gave a viral post, amid pratfalling pet videos and memes, wasn’t considered. It shouldn’t be a surprise that Scott’s story had been bought hook, line and sinker by a vast army of morally vehement unknowns, most of whom liked to use half a dozen emojis. Their not knowing Scott clearly didn’t matter to them. Their not knowing Harrietdefinitelydidn’t matter to them.

That he might be unreliable, that there could be anotherside to this story – it wasn’t even a distant consideration. Scott appealed for sympathy, in the language of a sensitive person, and he received sympathy back, as if he was one. Hesaidhe was being starkly, laceratingly honest – ergo, hewas. Infuriatingly for Harriet, the blind trust was touching; it’s what you’d want anyone sharing their pain to receive. Except of course he didn’t deserve it.

Not one comment that Harriet could see, doomscrolling, was anything less than full-throttle behind him. She watched the interpretations of his accusations against her morph and grow as the thread got longer, Harriet in the retelling becoming more extreme and dangerous.

You should go to the police about her. Worth making a formal complaint so they’ve got her name on record if she tries anything else. For all you know she might try to disrupt your wedding

What she said, also if she threw things when drunk, that IS violence and she can be prosecuted

I’ve been here. Two years out of a toxic relationship myself. The way you have to shore up THEIR self-esteem while they’re destroying yours – so many bells ringing for me. Fwiw your ex lashed out because she knows you’re winning at life and she’s stuck in the prison yard of her ugly mind. I wish you and your beautiful fiancée many good years together, have a great wedding day!

Hi Scott <3 as a woman I can tell you now, no one has nudes on their phone they ‘took for themselves’ and keep from their bf. She was def working other angles when she was with you, sorry to say. Grotty hoe

Never stick your dick in crazy

Half the way down, Scott had posted again, in a comment boosted to visibility in the thread by gaining a sweltering 521 reactions, many clicking Love:

Hey everyone. I was absolutely shitting myself about posting this and I almost didn’t. I can’t tell what your support means to me. I showed it to my fiancée and she was in tears, saying: ‘They get it.’ If this has helped one person, then it’s been worth any difficulty or trouble it’s cost me. Like I say, I refuse to be ashamed. Peace and light to you all. Love always wins. xxxx

Harriet’s eyes then alighted on a Much Liked comment that was so enraging, so ironic, that she gasp-sobbed, then nearly screamed and threw her phone:

When narcissists can no longer control you, they try to control what others think of you

Yeah, no shit.

Three-quarters of the way in, inevitably, in the Wild West frontier that was online debate, she’d been outed.Scott had knowingly cued up a guessing game and provided enough clues. There was a comment with a link to her photography site, which explained why she’d started getting trolled.

FFS, I know who this is. Harriet Hatley? She’s a wedding photographer (er, LOL) This is her …

That sparked a sub thread, a feeding frenzy of excited delight at being able to pull the mask from evil ‘H.’

No way, she photographed my cousin’s friend’s wedding?!

Seriously this is her? Looks like butter wouldn’t melt. Always the way, isn’t it

I would NOT want her at any wedding. For one thing, imagine if she takes a liking to the groom

I remember her from school. She dated my brother’s friend and was totally weird with him too

She checked this person’s profile. They hadn’t been to her school and definitely didn’t know anyone she’d dated.

Harriet’s trembling fingers hovered over the screen. Maybe she should comment, say something back? Saying that this was a misrepresentation, that there were many, many things this mob didn’t know.

But she knew better: it would be like wading into a gunfightarmed with only a spoon, and a target on her forehead. The world at large had picked a side. As Scott had fully anticipated, no one believes the person who goes next.

She pushed her face into the sofa cushions, and howled.

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