bile rose in her throat and hot, angry tears spiked her eyes. She needed to be calm and detached from the recent trauma before she faced her.
Obviously Karen was going to be mad that Bea had told Eleanor about Michael, but would she really do something like this to get back at her? Anyway, Bea’s relationship with Paul had been way before that, so how would she even have this video?
The Outlook app launched and Bea felt bile rise in her throat when she saw the email sitting there with the subject line ‘Recognise anyone?’ It sounded more like a threat the second time she read it – Karen’s way of making sure she didn’t tell anyone else about Michael’s wife? It hurt Bea to think that her friend would have to stoop that low. Karen should know she’d never do anything to hurt her, even if she didn’t agree with her decisions.
She double-clicked on the email, not wanting to see the images on a larger screen but hoping there would be something here she’d missed on the smaller screen of her phone.
There was.
The email had been sent to her personal inbox, where she was viewing it now. But that wasn’t it.
Fear rose in Bea’s chest, hammering at her ribcage as she scrolled down the list of names in the cc box. Some of them she recognised – Fran, her brother Sam, Eleanor, one, two, three girls from work, two of her friends from Slimming World … how had anyone even got hold of these addresses?
Panic rose in her chest. How many of these people had already seen the video? Her phone hadn’t rung yet, so she suspected very few. She needed help to sort this out fast. Tomorrow was Monday, so there was a chance that some or all of them – especially her work colleagues – would see it then, perhaps while she was sitting in the office next to them. She imagined dozens of people around her all pressing play at the same time, the office filled with the sounds of her and Paul moaning and grunting. This was no perfectly choreographed sex tape, all soft lighting and flattering angles recorded and leaked by a failing celebrity to revive a flagging career. This was sex in its true and highly unflattering glory, spare tyres and legs akimbo.
Fran. The one person she could count on to keep a cool head and help her work this out. She grabbed her phone and dialled her sister’s number, praying she wasn’t bathing the children or reading bedtime stories.
Fran answered on the third ring.
‘Bea, what the hell was all that about? Are you okay?’
‘Not really, but I don’t have much time to explain. Do you have your computer on?’
‘Yeees,’ Fran replied slowly, obviously dying to ask more questions but too concerned by the desperation in Bea’s voice. ‘Lewis is just finishing his homework.’
‘Right, can you kick him off a minute? Right out of the room, though, and log on to your emails.’
‘Bea, what’s this a—’
‘Please, Fran?’
Fran paused. Bea knew she must be worrying no end, but she didn’t have time to worry about that. She needed Fran to see exactly what they were dealing with. Of course she’d rather it wasn’t necessary, but she needed help more than she needed her dignity right now. She heard Fran speaking to her son in low, urgent tones and Lewis protesting loudly.
‘Okay, what do I do now?’ Fran asked eventually.
‘Are you alone?’
‘Yes. Bea, what exactly am I going to be looking at?’
‘Log into your email.’
Bea waited in silence while Fran did as she was told.
‘I’ve got to say, this is all very cloak-and-dagger. I’m a bit … Okay, I’m in. What now?’
‘Okay, find an email with the subject “Recognise anyone?” Don’t open it yet.’
‘I can’t … Wait, there, got it.’
‘Right.’ Bea took a deep breath. ‘You need to open it. I’m sorry for what you’re about to see, Fran but you’ll realise in a minute why I’m asking for your help. I don’t need you to yell at me, or judge, I just need you to be a big sister and help me.’
‘Jesus, Bea, you’re scaring me. Do I need to call a lawyer?’
‘Just open the email.’
She waited in silence, imagining her big sister double-clicking the email, pressing play on the video and watching her baby sister doing things no one should ever have to imagine, let alone see. She closed her eyes, as if scrunching them up tightly could guard against the burning humiliation.