Unfollow Me

UNFOLLOW ME

A Novel

CHARLOTTE DUCKWORTH

I know everything about you, Violet.

I know your mother’s name is Joy. I know your sister is a paediatric nurse, that she has twin boys. I know you sold your first flat—a tiny, one-bed in Blackheath with bubbling wallpaper and an illegal roof terrace—for £300k. Double the price you paid for it. I know your father gave you the deposit when you moved to London at twenty-one. I know the house you now live in cost you and Henry almost £3million, and that you also own the villa in Marbella that you pretend belongs to your parents. I know that you lie about your age; you’re thirty-eight next birthday, not thirty-six. I know that 2017 was your most profitable year yet; that you’ve set up a trust fund for the children, somewhere to put all the money that keeps flowing your way.

I know you have hair extensions; I know the name of your hairdresser, Pablo, and that his partner is called Ian. I know where they live. I know you’re loyal to him now, that you consider him “family,” that you always spend New Year with him and Ian. Drinking champagne out of saucers, wearing an outfit that costs more than I earn in a month.

I know that you only got into journalism by luck. I know your ex, Angus, now married to Isabella and living in Surrey, got you a job as an editorial assistant on his golfing magazine, and that you charmed your way across one of the world’s biggest media firms until you were a features writer for a woman’s magazine.

I know that you were good at your job, no matter how much it annoys me.

I know that you met Henry in the bar by the office. I know that it was a work night out to say goodbye to one of the PAs. She doesn’t play much of a role in your story, but even so, I know her name was Janet.

It’s been so easy to find it all out. All I needed was time, and determination. You’ve left it right there for me. All that information—all that power—just waiting, a few clicks away.

It’s what you want, after all, isn’t it? Without an audience, without people like me watching, then what are you? No one asked you to put yourself on the internet. No one asked you to leave breadcrumb trails of your life across the World Wide Web, just waiting for a hungry bird like me to gobble up.

I know everything about you, Violet. But what do you know about me?

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Writing this book was a completely different experience from writing my first. But one thing was the same—it wouldn’t have happened without the kind support of lots of people.

First of all, a massive thanks to my agent, Caroline Hardman, for all her advice and opinions (no more books with bankers in I promise!), and for telling me she really loved it after I nervously sent over the first draft. She is ably supported by the brilliant team at Hardman & Swainson, who I would also like to thank. I’m so desperate to come and work in your office and chat about death too!