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Chapters (57)
  1. Cover
  2. Title
  3. Dedication
  4. Dedication2
  5. 1994
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 2006
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 2018
  45. 38
  46. 39
  47. 40
  48. 41
  49. 42
  50. 43
  51. 44
  52. 45
  53. 46
  54. 47
  55. 48
  56. 49
  57. Acknowledgements

Margaret was so close to telling her. About the Tamagotchi phone, the messages, the spreadsheet – maybe even about the data breach and the app. But she didn’t. When things were in the open, there was always light on them and for some reason, she wanted to keep this in the dark – for herself. She realised she wasn’t being smart, but that was the way it was today. She’d mentioned it to Diane years ago. In passing, not properly. It was a clever kind of lie. ‘Oh, yeah, I’ve got two phones.’ Saying it without saying it. She fell back on that for years. I’ve told Diane, she’d think to herself, knowing full well she hadn’t. She was smart. She still sometimes thought it was enough, and that she’d done it. Diane had never had another one of her, so Margaret told herself she didn’t need to mention the Tamagotchi phone again, and that Diane wouldn’t understand anyway. But she knew she hadn’t told Diane, and that Diane probably understood enough that it was important she told her.

Whenever there was a run of messages on the Tamagotchi phone, she would find herself sitting and watching it. She’d be eating and would catch herself looking at nothing but the tiny grey screen set into the hard white plastic rectangular cube. Sometimes she didn’t sleep. Sometimes it was three in the morning before she realised she was still looking at it. Then she’d look away and the messages would slow down, and she’d feel an incredible loss. Sometimes she’d try to fill it with sex, or food, or daydreaming about cutting her arms open.

This time it was midday when she realised she’d been looking at the phone for a while. She was sitting at her desk and had no idea how long she’d been looking at it. She looked at the last line of code she’d written. Then at her messages on her desktop, and she’d sent one at about ten o’clock. She looked out the window and decided to tell Heidi everything. Heidi would understand. She picked up the Tamagotchi phone. Telling Heidi, she typed, and sent the message.

43

43

Heidi said she was busy right now because someone had just arrived, but she’d come round in half an hour or so. Margaret looked at her watch. It was just after two.