Page 35 of Filter This
‘You don’t want her to be me, basically.’
‘You’re not even you anymore. I know you don’t like to hear this but you’ve changed. Old you would’ve mocked this.’ He mimed preening for a selfie. ‘You playing you in some Facebook version of your perfect life is a complete waste of your talent, Shel.’
‘It’s Instagram – how after all this time have you not got that?’
‘How after all this time have you not got that it isn’t even real?’ Dan flared up and Shelly glanced around nervously.
‘No one’s looking, Shelly. No one cares. You’re just some person in their phone that they watch – believe me, you’re not impacting them in any profound way.’
That stung. How had the evening gone so badly off track? They were supposed to be getting on. She was supposed to be prepping Dan for tomorrow’s baby reveal. God, she sounded like one of Amy’s Google Calendars. This dinner had, in fact, been labelled ‘groundwork’ on the schedule. And right before they’d come down to dinner, her phone had pinged with a reminder set by Amy – ‘Objective: fluff Dan’. If Dan ever saw some of that stuff … Shelly shuddered inwardly.
In the early days of SHELLY, Dan had treated it as an amusing hobby. Starting the account had been an attempt at a way out of the post-baby sadness, and he’d initially been happy that she was up and about, putting make-up on again and apparently no longer crying every day. When it started to gain traction, he was genuinely happy for her, if a little confused. He often asked her why she wasn’t going after more auditions and instead spending all her time meeting with brands for partnerships and doing ads for reconstituted-ham-related products, but he hadn’t been judgemental about it. Not then at least.
Shelly could feel the evening rapidly slipping out of her control – she needed to get him back onside. ‘Will you share the chocolate bombe with me?’ she asked tentatively. ‘Please, Dan.’ He knew she was pleading for more than a dessert split.
He sat back, shoulders sagging. ‘It’s not the time for this.’ He seemed to be speaking to himself as much as to her. ‘One bombe, two spoons.’ He smiled over at her. ‘We can talk more tomorrow.’
The table buzzed abruptly – it was Dan’s phone. He glanced at it.
‘The lads’ WhatsApp,’ he said, picking it up. ‘Aidan’s got some new gym idea and he’s pestering everyone for money.’
Shelly watched him scroll and felt her own right hand twitching in longing – she was dying to see her own phone. Even though every post was a winner, it was still a bit like playing a game, and seeing likes and comments from other top-tier influencers gave her a nice little buzz. She was trying to get in with some of the UK influencers. That was a big pond and Amy was cooking up lots of plans for breaking in to the Insta-club over there. She noticed Dan laughing and shaking his head. ‘What?’
‘Oh, nothing. Just a few of the lads messing, saying you’re pregnant.’
‘What?’ Shelly felt a nervy swoop in her stomach. How on earth?
On hearing her tone, Dan looked up, his brow furrowed. ‘What’s wrong? They’re only messing.’ He watched her face and his eyes narrowed. The silence stretched between them. ‘They’re messing, yeah? Shelly! What the fuck – are you?’
‘Ehmmm …’ Shelly bit her lip – panic was coursing through her from the pit of her stomach to the tips of her fingers. How could they know? ‘What are they saying?’
Dan thrust the phone over at her.
Aidan: Whopper news @Dan. Didn’t think you had it in ya (again!)
Lex: Yeah, Maire just told me. Congrats, man! Two! You’re fucked now LOL. No more golf weekends.
Mark: When’s Shelly due? Will you still make it to Primavera?
Dan: Shut up, you pricks. Shel’s not preggers. LOL, I think I’d know.
Seeing Dan’s response made Shelly feel sick. How had this happened? How’d Maire know? She barely knew Maire. Just then another response appeared in the group.
Aidan: Eh, check your wife’s Insta, dude
Fuck. That stopped Shelly cold. The date-night-outfit post had been in Drafts. Amy’s pregnancy announcement had been in Drafts as well.
Dan’s hand was outstretched, waiting for her to hand back the phone. She was frozen. He couldn’t see that last message.
‘Give. Me. The. Phone. And tell me what the hell they’re talking about.’ Dan’s voice was cold and eerily calm.
Shelly couldn’t find the words. ‘Ehm. Will we step outside for a minute?’ She tried to stall for time.
Dan reached across and seized the phone. He took a second to catch up on the last message. He looked up. ‘Instagram.’
The word was like a bullet. Shelly slumped in the chair, afraid to even reach for her bag. The vibrating felt menacing all of a sudden. A sweet purring pet turned malevolent.
‘What have you done?’
