The Marriage Act(25)
He followed her, but by the time he also reached the top of the stairs, then the doorway to the bedroom, it was too late. They were staring at his wife, trying to make sense of her.
‘Why are they in our room?’ June asked him tearfully. ‘You promised me they wouldn’t take me away! You promised I could stay here, with you, Artie. We didn’t tick the box! We didn’t tick the box!’
‘No,’ he said firmly. ‘They’re not going to take my girl anywhere.’
Lorraine and her colleague looked to each another, then at Arthur and back at one another again. Finally, their attention returned to June and her dead body. She was wrapped from head to toe in the same stained duvet she had been inside for the last seven months, bound together by parcel tape and rope.
Before Arthur’s legs gave way, he pushed his way towards his wife and collapsed on the bed, wrapping his arms around her.
‘Please don’t take her from me,’ he begged. ‘Don’t separate us. I’m begging you. Just leave us alone.’
20
Roxi
Roxi shifted from buttock to buttock, trying to find a comfortable spot on her seat. She’d drained a can of antiperspirant before leaving the house yet she was convinced she could feel a thin film of sweat emerging across the sweetheart neckline of her dress from the heat of the studio lights.
She tapped her fingernails together but they felt naked without their acrylic tips and colourful polish. Jem Jones had favoured a more natural appearance and now so must she. She rested her hands on the desk, then held them by her side. She crossed and uncrossed her legs, but was unsure what to do with her arms. She was developing a new-found respect for those who made sitting in front of television cameras and an audience of millions appear the most natural thing in the world.
Moments earlier, she had felt a little star-struck when the runner who’d led her into the studio had introduced her to TV news stalwarts Esther Green and Stuart James. They were friendly, but not so much the figure at the other end of the desk. Howie Cosby was a surly, controversial and verbally combative Freedom for All party spokesperson. In her naivety, Roxi had assumed she’d been invited to appear alone. His presence suggested there might be more to it than that.
‘Our next guest is Roxi Sager,’ began Esther. ‘She is a Vlogger and Influencer who, in the aftermath of the death of her friend Jem Jones, believes all homes should have Audites installed and the Government should have the right to record anyone’s conversations.’
Goosebumps skittered across Roxi’s arms on hearing herself described as an Influencer. And while it would do no harm to be considered Jem’s friend, the extent of their relationship had involved Roxi commenting on a handful of Jem’s YouTube videos and Jem once posting a thumbs-up emoji in response. Roxi had no intention of correcting Esther.
‘A recent post by Roxi suggests that by expanding the use of AI in monitoring us all, we are more likely to think about our behaviour before we do or say something harmful. Roxi, can you tell us more about this?’
The film of sweat had developed into beads trickling down Roxi’s back as she cleared her throat. ‘I . . . I th-think the world is . . . um . . . is becoming a crueller place than it w-was, say . . . um . . . twenty or thirty years ago,’ she began. ‘And um . . . social media is to blame.’
Beneath the desk and away from the view of the lens, she pinched her thigh to keep her focused.
‘I . . . um . . . think my friend Jem’s suicide is proof of that. She was hounded to death because of it. We have seen how successful the Sanctity of Marriage Act is. Couples don’t . . . um . . . jump down each other’s throats now saying cruel stuff; they think about what they’re going to say if they disagree. They respect one another. I’d like to see that extended to other aspects of our lives.’
‘And the threat of being recorded will do that?’
Roxi nodded. ‘It’s a reminder, not a threat. And yes, I think it will.’
‘Howie Cosby,’ began Stuart James, turning to Roxi’s sparring partner, ‘you can’t deny that Jem Jones was bullied to death, and, by all accounts, much of it came from supporters of your organization.’
‘There is little evidence to back up your claim, Stuart, but then I don’t speak for every single person who believes in our cause. What I will say is that we don’t condone bullying in any way, shape or form. However, we shouldn’t indulge in kneejerk reactions to Jem’s death. Increasing the scope of AI usage in every single British home, regardless of whether we want it or not, is Orwellian. You will be punishing the majority for the crimes of a minority. Our watchful state already has one of the highest totals of mass surveillance of internet traffic in the world under the guise of “containing civil unrest”. To eavesdrop into all our conversations is another step towards the dissolution of freedom of opinion and expression. We should be able to speak our minds without retribution and censorship; otherwise it will mark the end of our open society.’ He looked to Roxi. ‘Are you a parent?’
She wasn’t expecting him to speak directly to her. ‘Y-yes,’ she replied, nodding.
‘Do you want your children to be free to speak their minds?’
Much of the time, she wished her daughter Darcy wasn’t. ‘Of course I do . . .’