Chapter 18 #2
His company name takes me to an Instagram account that makes me question if I’m on the wrong track.
The Pete on the programme had the soft face and body of a boy who, once grown, would be a chubby man.
The Pete I discover on Instagram is, in among shots of bland interiors from his property portfolio, toned and sinewy, his pasty skin clear of acne and tanned to a tone of orange that is impossible to achieve by natural means when you live in Scotland.
His teeth are a startling white. I scroll further and further back.
It takes sifting through two years’ worth of drivel before I find confirmation that this Pete is definitely my Pete.
He’s made a handy collage to help me. The left side of the image shows Pete as I first met him, with a perfectly average body and a natural teeth shade.
The right side shows the lean version of him, who resembles countless gym bro types, including Brian.
It is a shame, as a society, that when we realised we put too much pressure on women to maintain a certain beauty standard, we then forced men into the deal rather than accepting what normal bellies and faces look like.
This societal pressure is working in my favour, though; he handily tags himself at his gym in his photos and then uploads stories while he’s there.
In fact, according to his stories, he’s there right now.
I can see him in my mind’s eye, carrying a leather sports bag in one hand, a protein shake in the other, completely unaware of what’s coming for him.
The location of his gym is an issue. It’s on the Southside and would involve a train then a bus to get to him as I don’t have a car. I haver. Maybe I need to source a new target, one who I have a more direct line to. Then I read reviews for his business and decide, no – Pete has to be next.
This website only allows me to leave one star as the lowest rating. If it could be none I would leave none. Never answers any emails but is happy to send ones about increasing rent every six months.
Another simply says:
I’ve had no hot water for three months.
My favourite, because it reminds me of dear departed Colin, is:
Dangerous faulty electrics, the workman they finally sent to look at them was appalled by what was in there and said they failed every kind of test he could do on them.
How exactly I will wreak revenge on Pete will have to be decided later, as someone has had the audacity to walk in and expect me to provide service to them. I have to check the clock in the corner of my screen to ascertain if it is morning or afternoon. Time flies when I’m focused.
‘Good afternoon,’ I say to a face I know well from the screensaver on Brian’s phone.
This version of Brian’s wife, Leanne, is not as flawless as the one in the pictures; there’s no Facetune in real life.
Her hair is straggly, her microbladed eyebrows orange-hued like the ink is fading. She still looks loads better than me.
‘Is Brian here?’ She’s shifting around, trying to see where he’s hiding behind me.
It’s not time yet to detonate Brian’s life; I need everything in order first. I can’t be unemployed again. Until then I have to lie.
‘It’s Leanne, isn’t it? I’m Jemma. It’s so nice to finally meet you after all the wonderful things Brian has said about you.’
She freezes. Her eyes narrow as much as her Botox will allow. ‘Is it you?’
The hand I raised to shake hers goes back to my keyboard untouched. I need more context to respond. Does she mean, ‘Is it you that’s in charge of Brian’s fake phone? Is it you that killed Willie?’
I go for ignorance. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand the question.’
She leans down towards me. ‘Is it you he’s shagging? Are you the fancy piece he’s decided to whisk away to Leeds for a night? Because I’m sure he’s promising you all sorts, but know once he’s had his fill he’ll come crawling back to me. He always chooses me in the end.’
Laughing in her face would probably set her off, an insult that I would not have intercourse with the man she has agreed – in front of her closest friends and family – to shag exclusively until death, or it could point to guilt.
‘I am not having sex with Brian, no.’ I do all the things honest people are supposed to do.
I maintain eye contact, there is no trembling in my limbs, I speak slowly so nothing can be miscommunicated.
‘That is what you’d say though, isn’t it?’
‘Is the only way for you to believe me, then, to say I slept with him? Because I didn’t, and I wouldn’t.’
Leanne crosses her arms over her gym wear, unimpressed.
Whenever I have thought of Leanne and me meeting, I was the hero, explaining to her that her husband is a loser and a cheat.
Yet here I am, letting myself down by choosing to participate in my own separate deceit with her until the timing is convenient for me.
‘Not only because I do not want to, but because Brian wouldn’t be interested. He is the most committed family man I have ever met. All he does when he’s not working hard is talk about you and the boys and how much you all mean to him.’ So you know, I do feel bad about this.
‘So where is he?’
‘I’m sure he mentioned the sad passing of Colin, who was one of his clients.’
Her fingertips are on her forehead at the mention of Colin. ‘Do not tell me he went there.’
‘No, no, no. He said it wasn’t appropriate for him to go but he did want to mark his passing, so he’s gone off for some quiet reflection.
Not sure where to exactly. He was very sombre when he left and I didn’t think it was appropriate to press him on it.
’ My story is done until I see Leanne clock Brian’s mobile on my desk, so I add to my tale.
‘He didn’t want to be interrupted while he was out so he left his mobile with me.
Sorry if you haven’t been able to reach him. ’
Leanne takes her time to absorb what I’ve said, leaving me to wonder if I’ve added too much detail or laid on Brian’s ability to care too thickly. She stares at Brian’s office, putting everything together. ‘Right. Tell him to ring me when he gets back, will you?’
I’ve no idea if she’s convinced, but I’m glad to have had practice in lying to someone’s face. It feels like a skill that’ll come in handy.