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‘Oh, I am.’
‘No, you’re not. We all say shit we feel like we shouldn’t have, right? Like,everyhuman being on earth can relate to that. Who hasn’t drunk texted their ex? Or, I don’t know, been shitty with some knob at work?’
I gaze at her and shake my head. She’s talking like someone who hasn’t been affected by all this, like she isn’t collateral damage herself. ‘Why are you so nice?’ I ask her. ‘Seriously. Are you going to be OK?’
She offers a tired smile, a tiny smudge of mascara at the corner of her eye. ‘Always am. And don’t beat yourself up. The emails .?.?. everyone’s done something like that at some point. I swear it.’
‘Hm, yes, well, I’m petrified of my own phone, and even my bloody dad has gone all “your mother’s whereabouts aren’t adding up”, so, it doesn’tfeeltoo normal at the minute, Cate, I’ve got to be honest. Plus, you’re here and Owen’s wedding’s off—’
‘S-sorry.’ Ralph stands in the doorway. He’s wearing his glasses, the square, black-framed ones he wears specifically for watching TV, and he’s holding an iPad, at his midriff, like a little squirrel clutching a hazelnut. ‘Sorry, I don’t mean to disturb you both—’
‘His wedding’s off?’ exclaims Cate, still looking at me. ‘Because of one email?’
‘Yes,’ I say, shamefully. ‘Well, I think more that he asked me out andthatwas in the email.’
‘Well, that’s Owen’s fault then, isn’t it—’
‘Sorry,’ interrupts Ralph, again, clearing his throat. We both turn to look at him. ‘Millie. Your friend Alexis. Alexis Lee?’
‘Yeah?’
‘I, erm, I have her as a friend on TikTok? Since your .?.?. birthday meal?’
‘Oh. Right?’
‘I wanted to tell you, but I also don’t want you to worry.’Oh, God. ‘It’s just – she’s posted a short video about your, um, situation,’ he says. ‘She doesn’t name you. It just has her face, and the text says something like, when your so-called best friend sends you emails you were never meant to receive—’
‘What?’
‘Best friend,’ scoffs Cate, brown eyes lifting to the ceiling. ‘Some best friend she’s been lately.’
‘She .?.?. she doesn’t havetoomany followers,’ says Ralph quickly, as I dive across the kitchen for his iPad. ‘And I wasn’t going to tell you, but, well, I thought it might help you stop beating yourself up. She’s not exactly acting like a respectful friend right n—’
‘What are peoplesaying?’ I ask hysterically.
Ralph holds the screen to his chest. ‘It only has eleven likes.’
‘Are they dragging me?’ I reach for the iPad, like a cat batting a moth, and missing. ‘Are they saying horrible things—’
‘Millie.’
I freeze, and Ralph and I slowly turn, in unison, towards Cate.
‘Stop,’ she says, firmly. ‘Seriously. You don’t even have TikTok, do you? Plus, she’s been standing you up. She’s been saying things about your job being dead-end, stuff about your life being too simple and boring, or whatever it was. Did she notdeservethe emails?’
I stare at her. ‘Maybe? I dunno, Cate, I just feel like everything’s amess. It’s out of control, I don’t know where to begin.’
‘And we can talk it out,’ Cate replies warmly. ‘You can listen to my mess, and I’ll listen to yours. We’ll even make a list. You know how much I like lists. But, meantime.Halt, motherfucker. You know? Breathe. The worst is over. And all we need to do now is .?.?. well, I know whatIneed. Right now anyway. A cuddle and a sandwich.’ She gives another tired smile. ‘Anyone here up for a cuddle and a sandwich?’
‘Duly noted,’ Ralph nods, a single bow, then goes wide-eyed. ‘Well. T-thesandwich, of course .?.?.’
And as Cate snuggles up next to me on the sofa in our cosy, lamplit living room and Ralph makes slow, careful cheese sandwiches in the kitchen, I wonder if they’re right. Maybe the worst is over. And if it is, how, in a sea of gossip and TikTok cautionary tales, do I move on?
*
The Millie Chandler is Not a Monster To-Do List
Have a social media break
