It Started With A Tweet(23)

At least, since we’ve kept the door between the lounge and the kitchen open, it seems to have aired it slightly. I sit down in the rocking chair while she busily lights the tea lights around us. It’s a good job, too, as the light outside is starting to fade.

I start to rock myself back and forth, and it’s quite comforting, given my mental state. I try and think of things other than what might be going on online. Rosie climbs into her seat and closes her eyes almost instantly – she must be tired after the drive.

We sit in silence for a while, I don’t know how long for, as I don’t have a watch, but I’m guessing it’s longer than seven minutes as the room has got progressively darker and the tea lights appear to be burning brighter.

‘Whatcha’ thinking?’ asks Rosie, opening her eyes.

‘Not a lot, just FOMO,’ I say, shrugging.

Rosie looks at me like I’ve spoken a foreign language. ‘What mo?’

‘FOMO – you know, Fear Of Missing Out on something.’

‘You’re worried that someone’s going to upload a picture of their dinner to Facebook and you’re going to miss it?’

‘No, believe me, I won’t miss the food pictures. It’s just that I don’t like thinking that there’s something going on in my friends’ lives that I don’t know about.’

I can feel my heart racing slightly at the thought. Right now, my friends are out and about interacting with each other, and I’m up here in the arse end of nowhere. I’m almost certain that everyone is having a better time than I am.

And it’s not only that. It’s not knowing whether people are contacting me. What if friends have seen the #priceless tweet and have guessed it’s me? What if someone puts on Facebook that I got fired, and then everyone, including people I haven’t seen since infant school, will know my shame? All I want is ten tiny seconds just to peek into my apps. Just to see what’s going on.

‘Are you OK?’ asks Rosie, a look of concern spreading over her face.

‘I’m wondering if everyone knows that I got fired.’

‘I’m sure you are. But look, it’s better not to know. By the time you’re back online, everyone will have forgotten about it. Better to have a break than react to it.’

It doesn’t do much to ease my apprehension. I’m still twitching. I’m almost planning a midnight raid on the well, but, given that I can barely see across the room, I doubt that would be successful.

I watch Rosie rocking back and forth and try to get into the same rhythm. She looks so relaxed and at ease and I will myself to calm down.

‘Are you ready to start the meditation?’ asks Rosie, in a quiet nasally voice. She sounds as if she’s channelling our old RE teacher Mrs Molton. Her voice was so hypnotic that it practically sent you to sleep, or maybe that was just the boring subject matter.

‘Don’t laugh. This is very serious business,’ Rosie says. ‘Now, I don’t have any music so we’ll have to do it in silence. Close your eyes and empty your mind.’

I do as I’m told, trying to bite my tongue to stifle the giggles.

A pigeon coos loudly and both Rosie and I open an eye to check that it isn’t in the room, but it appears to be perched outside on the window ledge. It coos away and it could almost be on one of those New Age soundtracks.

‘Repeat these affirmations after me,’ continues Rosie. ‘I do not need my phone.’

‘I do not need my phone,’ I say, parroting it back and not meaning it.

‘My phone does not drive my life; I am in control.’

I try and repeat it without laughing. Where is she getting this claptrap from?

Rosie starts to take long, deep breaths and I follow her, rocking back and forth. My eyelids are feeling heavy and I’m fighting the impulse to fall asleep.

‘I don’t need constant validation of my life from people I barely know.’

I try and parrot it back, but it’s getting harder the sleepier I get.

‘I will instead listen to those closest to me, especially my sister Rosie, who is wise beyond her years.’

My eyes fly open and I see Rosie grinning at me.

‘Huh,’ she says, nodding. ‘My meditation’s pretty good, right?’

‘Only because I’m so tired,’ I say laughing.

‘OK,’ she says, clearing her throat and going back to the rocking, and I get in sync with her again before closing my eyes.

‘I will not be controlled by my phone .?.?. I will take time for myself .?.?. I will switch off.’

My eyelids are heavy once more, and I fight with the sleep to hear what Rosie is saying next.



I attempt to sit up straight but my neck creaks and my back aches. I try to work out where I am when I see Rosie in the rocking chair next to me, reading a magazine.

‘Hello, sleepy,’ she says smiling. ‘I take it my meditation hit the right note for relaxing.’

‘Sorry about that,’ I say. ‘Have I been asleep long?’

‘About an hour. It’s just before nine, but I’m pretty knackered, so I was thinking of heading up to bed.’

I yawn. ‘Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. I don’t want to fall asleep in this chair again, it’s bloody uncomfortable,’ I say, trying to stand, but finding myself doubled over. I slowly try to straighten one vertebra at a time.