Chapter Five
The big day
‘I think I may have just received my first dick-pic,’ my mother said, her voice brimming with excitement through the car speaker as Joe almost veered off course into the path of an oncoming lorry.
‘Mum,’ I shouted from the back seat. I’d been relegated here due to concerns about Layla feeling carsick and was now buried beneath a mountain of saucepans, pillows and the spiky foliage of Sideshow Bob who was balanced on my lap – of course he was.
‘Don’t make me regret my policy of automatically answering whenever you call.
We’re in the car and you’re on speaker, so just be aware that Joe and Layla can hear everything you’re saying too. ’
‘Oh, hello darlings!’ She sounded greatly cheered by this news. ‘Well, I’m glad I’ve got the full Harper team on board. Maybe you can help explain this curious situation.’
‘I’m not sure that I’m going to be an enormous amount of help, Meredith,’ Joe said, having righted his steering and settled back into the correct lane.
‘Nonsense,’ Mum said. ‘At least you’ve got one. A penis, I mean. Perhaps you can explain why someone would want to share a photo of it?’
‘Mum,’ I interjected, seeing my husband looking a little panicked. ‘Who did you get this photo from? Was it one of the Silver Surfers?’
‘Showing off his longboard,’ said Joe, tittering to himself.
‘It’s Silver Soulmates, darling. Anyway, I think it was Brian. It’s most peculiar. A little bit out of the blue, you might say.’
‘You think it’s Brian?’
‘Well, I don’t exactly recognise him from the photo, but yes, I think so.’
‘And who is Brian? Have you ever seen him or met him in person? Do you know that he’s who he says he is?’
‘Sounds like she’s seen plenty of him this morning,’ said Joe quietly to Layla, who was also laughing.
I glared at the back of them both. ‘This is serious,’ I hissed. ‘Granmerry is a vulnerable senior citizen. She could be being groomed by some sexual predator.’
Joe snorted. ‘Vulnerable, my arse,’ he said under his breath.
‘I haven’t met him in person, no,’ Mum continued, oblivious to our conversation within the car. ‘He messaged me last week and we’d just been discussing gardening things really. Whether I should plant my spring bulbs yet, the best shrubs for a clay soil, that sort of thing. And then this.’
‘He’s gone straight for the hardy perennial,’ said Joe, smirking away with the self-satisfied air of a man who has stumbled upon a rich source of terrible puns.
‘Are you sure it is one?’ I said. ‘Are you sure it’s a photograph of his… genitals?’ I realised I sounded like an elderly biology teacher.
‘Well, I think so, Harriet. It’s sort of fleshy and grey, like an uncooked Cumberland sausage. I could send the picture to you, if you like? I’ll forward it now, just give me a moment…’
‘No! Mum!’ I nearly impaled my eyeball on one of Sideshow Bob’s spikier leaves as I bolted forward. ‘You can’t share explicit images. It’s a criminal offence.’
‘Well, that’s ridiculous darling. It’s hardly pornography. Looks more like something in the butcher’s window.’
I laughed in spite of myself. ‘Still, Mum, please don’t forward it to me. You can show it to me in person next time I see you.’
‘And that’s legal, is it? You’re not going to have me hauled up in front of a magistrate for soliciting sexual images if I share it with you face to face? Or face to, well, you know.’
‘I – I think it’s legal?’ I said, wracking my brains for context.
‘Righty-ho! I’ll wait until tomorrow and pop in for a cup of tea and you can help me decide what to do about it, darling. I’m not sure what the correct etiquette is. Should I reply? Should I reciprocate somehow?’
‘Noooooo!’ we all chorused, our faces showing various states of grimace.
‘Just leave him on read, Granmerry,’ said Layla. ‘Don’t do anything at the moment. He might just realise it’s a mistake and delete it.’
‘Oh.’ She sounded a little disappointed at the prospect.
‘So maybe she should screenshot it, in case she needs it for evidence?’ I whispered to Layla who nodded.
‘Screenshot it, Mum,’ I shouted. ‘But don’t do anything else.’
‘Oh, I’ve already done that, darling. Saved it to my photos. I was thinking I might show it to Marjorie when I see her at Westbury Arboretum this afternoon. Compare it to the one she received from a milkman called Terry last year.’
‘No. Don’t show anyone else,’ I said, horrified by the prospect of my mother’s friends all sharing knob shots on their walk around the horse chestnuts. ‘Just forget about it for now and we’ll have a think about what we’re going to do tomorrow.’
‘Lovely,’ she said.
‘And no more conversations about gardening either,’ I said. ‘With Brian. Or anyone. No more messages. Just please, do nothing.’
‘Understood,’ she said. ‘Although, really Harriet, you don’t need to treat me like a child.’ She sounded cross. ‘Anyway – Layla, darling,’ she raised her voice as if it was her granddaughter who was hard of hearing, ‘I hope today goes well and you settle into student life. I’ll be thinking of you.’
‘Thanks Granmerry,’ said Layla. ‘I’ll keep you posted.’
‘As will I you re the dick-pic situation, darling.’
‘Great. Speak soon then!’ I said, exhaling loudly as my mother disconnected the call. There was an incredulous pause before Joe spoke up.
‘Well,’ he said. ‘I’ll say one thing for your mother. She certainly knows how to provide a bit of distraction.’