Paparazzi Jo Fenton (the first e reader .txt) 📖

Chapter Seventeen

It’s quite early on Saturday morning, and I’m sitting in the kitchen nursing my third cup of coffee when Cheryl pokes her head around the door.

“Morning, Mum. Have you got time for a chat?”

“Of course, love. Are you okay?” Focussing properly on my daughter and dismissing all other thoughts from my head, I see a pale face, and rings around her eyes. She’s obviously not okay.

“Kind of.” She stops. “Do you want another coffee? I think I need one.”

I decline, and try to control my anxiety as she moves around the kitchen, banging into the edge of the fridge-freezer, and dropping the tub of sweetener on to the floor. Luckily, it’s plastic with a secure lid.

“Sit down. I’ll make your drink.” I get up and finish the job easily. “Why don’t you come and sit in the lounge? It’s a bit cosier, and we’re less likely to be disturbed. Dad will be down for breakfast soon.”

She’s settled down on the sofa next to me before she starts talking.

“There are a couple of girls at school,” she starts abruptly. “I couldn’t work out what they were doing at first, but it looks like they’ve identified a few people who they don’t like, and they’ve been spreading rumours. They’ve divided the year. It’s like a bad American high school. There are the popular kids, and the rest.”

“Should I ask which category you’re in?” Cheryl is beautiful and clever, but shy and sensitive. A perfect target for jealous bullies.

“I would have probably got away with it, but they were saying awful things about Danielle. Obviously I stuck up for her – I’m not going to let anyone slag off one of my friends – and it was clearly a load of rubbish. So now, I’ve been added to the target list. And it’s horrible.” She drains her mug and puts it on the coffee table.

“So what did they say about Danielle, and what are they saying about you?”

“They said she’s been sleeping around. She had a photo on Facebook from her birthday party last month, and they’ve Photoshopped it and sent it round the school. It looks like they’ve swapped her body with someone who was posing topless, and it’s really horrible.”

“Do you know if it was definitely these girls who’ve played with and posted these images?”

“It’s difficult to trace, but it was one of them that first approached me about being on their side against Dan. When I refused, I got a Facebook message from her, warning me I’d be next if I didn’t get my act together.”

“May I see?”

She pulls out her phone and shows me a screenshot. The name is obscured, but the message is clear.

‘Do what we want, bitch. Get your shit together or you’ll be next.’

“Charming. Do you have the original message? And the photo of Danielle?”

“Why?”

“Because,” I put my arm around her, “this is not only nasty, it’s illegal. I still have some friends in the police who could investigate and give these girls an official warning. I imagine their parents would be very concerned about the possibility of a criminal record for their daughters.”

“Probably, but would they know it was me that told on them?”

“There’s no need for them to know that. Would you mind if I ask Finn to come round and have a look at your phone? He’ll be very discreet, and it would mean I don’t have to pry.”

“I’ve not got any secrets from you, Mum. But I’d rather it wasn’t Finn. He’s a man, and I don’t want that picture of Dan to be seen by anyone who might lech over it.”

“Finn’s not like that.”

“I know, but he’s still a man. How about Wendy?”

“I’ll call her and see if she’s free. Meanwhile, I don’t think there’s a fifteen-year-old in existence who has no secrets from her mum.” I squeeze her shoulders to let her know I’m teasing.

“Well, I might not tell you about every single boy I fancy, but there’s nothing on my phone about that.”

“You’d be surprised. Twenty minutes with your phone, and I’d know your whole search history and everyone you’d checked out on Facebook and Instagram for the last five years.”

“Maybe I’d better keep it hidden then.” She giggles, then turns to look at me, and her expression becomes serious again, and perhaps a bit scared. “Please ask Wendy, Mum. I want this to stop, and I know it sounds selfish, but it would be great if it could stop before they Photoshop me.”

“Of course. Can I make some suggestions to protect yourself?” I wait for her to agree. “Great. Block everyone from your accounts who isn’t a close friend, and make all your settings private, so that these girls or their pals can’t access any of your photos. Ask your friends to do the same, or to delete any photos they have of you. That’s a reasonable first step.”

“Okay, thanks. Would you be able to ask Wendy to contact the school as well please? That way it hasn’t come from me. She can have had anonymous reports of this happening, and it would be reasonable for her to contact the head.”

“Of course.”

“I think I’ll go back to bed for a bit. I’m exhausted. You will call Wendy, won’t you?”

“I’ll call her now. Get some more sleep, love.” I kiss her forehead.

When she’s gone, I scroll through the numbers on my phone to find Wendy. I’ve not spoken to her for seven months now, but perhaps it’s time to break the silence.

***

It’s lovely speaking to my old friend and mentor. We’re on the phone for ages discussing what each has been up to for the last seven months. I tell her about Matt’s illness and my new venture into private investigations. She tells me about lecturing at Manchester University and her trip to Australia to see her eldest son. It’s almost an hour before we finally arrange that she’ll come round after dinner this evening for a