Page 69 of Filter This
The lash technician looked a bit disappointed at this but quickly moved on to speculating over whether or not Shelly would show at the Glossies. ‘She’s pretty much shut down the SHELLY account. One of the girls heard from a client that she’s got a stalker.’ She finished the left eye and began on the right.
‘Huh, that explains why she was acting shifty at that retreat,’ Ali mused.
‘I always knew she was too perfect to be for real,’ the girl announced knowingly. ‘High time everyone saw her true colours. It’s the child I feel sorry for.’
Ali squirmed a little. She felt bad not defending Shelly; she’d gotten to like her in the last couple of months. But at the same time, commenting on someone else’s Insta-scam was definitely pot-calling-kettle-black territory right now. She snuck a peek at the lash artist – what did she say about her to other clients?
Don’t be so paranoid, Ali reminded herself, but it was hard not to be. Being Insta-famous was like being in a very attractive marble and rose-gold prison – you were under constant surveillance. Not for the first time since all this began, Ali wondered if she’d be happier without Instagram altogether. But then what would she have left?
‘You’re all done, hun, they look amazing! My handle is @ElliesElysium.’
Ali could take a hint but sometimes it was all so exhausting. Plug, plug, plug. She took a selfie and posted it. Within minutes the post was awash with likes and squealing comments. It felt good, and that was undeniable. Ali sat engrossed, refreshing the post every few seconds, as time slipped past. She watched as the likes soared and she felt flooded with the kick of dopamine until Ellie returned with her next client, looking surprised that Ali was still there.
She drove home to meet the make-up artist, feeling the tide of anxiety wash in once more. She wished she could just enjoy herself. The hours of this day were ticking down maddeningly slowly. Why did she just want it all to be over? After everything she’d done to get here? She flashed on Sam’s devastated face, everything she’d sacrificed …
After make-up, she ploughed through lunchtime traffic to get to Ailesend, voicenoting with Kate all the way. Even though, these days, Kate barely asked about Ali and seemed much more focused on Ali tagging her in selfies to boost the @ShreddingForTheWedding account, Ali was prepared to overlook whatever cynical motives Kate had for their friendship. This was mainly because, despite having close to a hundred thousand followers now, she often felt lonely in that world. At least Kate was someone real who took an interest in what she was wearing tonight and cared about what was in the swag bag. Though their bitch sessions weren’t nearly so satisfying anymore. Now that Ali had grasped that behind every dodgy bit of FaceFix was a real person, she felt guilty swapping screen-grabs and zooming in on dodgy Photoshop.
‘Did you see Crystal Doorley’s latest?’ Kate’s voicenote was scathing but Ali just felt bad for Crystal. She’d seen her at a few events and it was obvious she had serious issues with her confidence, even more than anyone else who was editing out great chunks of their bodies on Insta.
‘I’d better go – I’m just about to go in to … do a dress fitting, catch you later,’ Ali said into the phone, pulling into the nursing home car park. She grabbed her bag and, grim-faced, headed in, refusing to dwell on the fact that she herself was editing out great chunks of her life every hour of the day.
Mini was sitting beside the bed when Ali reached Miles’s room – after a quick pit stop in the courtyard to do some more glam content, breathlessly gushing about how #blessed she was to be nominated.
‘You’re road-testing the new seats, I see.’ She kissed Miles on the cheek quickly and flopped into the empty one. ‘Much comfier,’ she observed.
Mini was about to speak when Tabitha bustled in bearing a tray of tea and biscuits.
‘Taby! What the hell? Since when do you make us tea? Are those Kimberleys?’
Tabitha didn’t say a word but gave Ali a vigorous reassuring pat on the arm and slipped back out the door.
Ali raised an eyebrow. ‘Dad, have you paid her off or something?’
Mini looked pale and watchful and had yet to really acknowledge her arrival. Ali felt something was seriously off. Miles looked more or less the same as ever, though his eyes were slightly more closed than usual and his breathing seemed shallower. She glanced around and noticed a small machine grinding away on the floor by the bed. She peered closer to read the label: OdourAway. Christ. Why was there some kind of industrial air freshener here?
The tea. The biscuits. The reclining chairs. Suddenly Ali wished she hadn’t come today, as if her being there or not could affect the outcome.
‘Mum, Mum? Mum?’
Mini’s head snapped up but she appeared unfocused. ‘Ali,’ was all she said.
‘What have they said? Why is this here?’ Scowling, she kicked at the OdourAway.
‘I honestly don’t know, darling.’ Mini sounded utterly lost and Ali felt a chill grip her heart. ‘I think they think this is it.’
Her words sucked the breath right out of Ali’s body. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. Not today. Not any day.
‘They haven’t really said. But I don’t think they can say.’ Mini was speaking carefully and deliberately. She sounded like a robot and Ali felt like shaking her.
‘Why didn’t you warn me?’ She was up and pacing but pausing between words to listen for Miles’s breath. The gaps between each one seemed interminably long.
Mini didn’t respond and Ali suddenly felt unbearably trapped in this terrible room, a room with no answers where they had been suspended in this awful limbo for so long. She found herself outside in the corridor without having even thought about taking the steps.
‘Ali?’ Tabitha looked concerned.
‘Is my dada really dying?’ Words spilled out and onto the floor.
‘Oh, Ali, Ali, Ali …’ Tabitha’s strong arms encircled her. ‘We can’t be sure. It’s probably not long now. Your daddy has suffered for a long time. And your mummy too. I’m praying for him.’
