Time since last Internet usage: 3 weeks, 20 hours, 28 minutes and 18 seconds
For the past forty-eight hours my mind’s been in a maelstrom. I keep replaying what Jack said over and over, analysing what I should have said to get to the bottom of it. Then on top of that, I can’t stop thinking about the letter from E.D.S.M. and wondering who they are and if I’m brave enough to give them a call?
Rosie must have twigged how distracted I’ve become as she’s summoned me over to the well for an emergency detox meeting.
‘So what is it, then? An extra special meditation session, whilst channelling the well’s magical healing powers?’ I say. ‘I was busy working when Alexis gave me the message.’
‘Busy working?’ she says, raising an eyebrow. ‘Is that code for flicking through Good Housekeeping again for inspiration?’
‘Maybe.’ She knows me too well. ‘It’s important to get ideas for the planning.’
‘Uh-huh. Sure. Sorry to have dragged you away, but I thought this was more important. You haven’t been yourself since you got that letter.’
. . . And I had that argument with Jack.
‘So, I was thinking, I think it’s time.’
‘Time for what?’ First Jack, and now Rosie. Why is everyone talking in bloody riddles?
‘Time, my little sister, to end the detox.’
I gasp in shock.
I stare down at the well and then back up at her. I’m wondering if this is some sort of test. Should I pretend not to be bothered? To prove to her that I’ve curbed my digital addiction once and for all? But she looks really serious.
‘You’re not joking,’ I stutter, as it starts to hit me that I’m going to be reunited with my phone any minute now. ‘You’re going to give me my phone, just like that.’
I’ve wanted this moment for weeks, but now that it’s about to happen, I can’t help feeling a little flat.
‘What did you want, some sort of closing ceremony? You are ready, young grasshopper,’ she says laughing. ‘In all honesty, I can’t believe you lasted this long. I kept expecting to find you here trying to get your phone out with a stick or stealing people’s phones in desperation.’
‘Ha, ha, ha, as if,’ I say in a squeaky voice. Has she been tracking my every move? Or is this some kind of sibling telepathy?
‘Anyway, the time has come.’
‘Has it? Are you sure?’
I’m starting to get so nervous that I’m about to be one step closer to getting connected. The only thing stopping me from totally flipping out is the thought that even when I get the phone in my hand I still won’t get any signal here: phone or Internet. I just hope that I’ll be ready when we drive to somewhere with a signal.
In the old days I would have gone nuts if I didn’t check my phone every five minutes and now I’m going to be grateful for at least a five-minute respite of the time it’ll take us to reach the village.
All this time I’ve been craving logging on, but, now that I’ve actually got permission, I’m scared. It’s terrifying, not just because I have to think of what I’m going to find, but also because I actually have to figure out a plan for the future.
Receiving the letter from E.D.S.M. has made me remember that I have to go back to the real world, to find a job, and that means finding out what people have been saying about me and that awful tweet.
I turn and look over my shoulder at the ramshackle farmhouse opposite and I feel a pang in my heart. I feel far more at home here than I did in Erica’s flat, despite living at the latter for almost four months. The farmhouse has changed so much since I arrived, and I can’t believe that I’m not going to see the rest of its transformation.
I already sound as if I’m leaving, when I know I’ve only been offered an interview, and not a job, but I know that once I open Pandora’s box – aka switch my phone back on – I’ll have to face up to all I’ve been running away from.
‘Don’t look so down,’ says Rosie, slipping her arm around me, and I turn back to the well. I’m not sure when we got so tactile around each other as it feels so normal now. ‘We both knew you’d have to get back to reality at some point. And I guess you’ve managed the digital detox for three weeks; I’m sure your fingers have been glad of the rest.’
‘They’d be lucky; all that paper stripping has pretty much ruined them. I’m worried that even if they wanted to swipe my phone they wouldn’t be able to.’
‘See, I told you this type of break would make you a different person.’
I smile. I’m really going to miss my sister. I never really appreciated her when we lived in the same house, but now, in these few weeks, I feel as if I’ve realised what I missed out on during those teenage years where we spent our time arguing over who’d pinched whose belt or who’d ruined whose Heather Shimmer lipstick.
‘I’m going to miss you,’ I say, a little sadly.
‘You don’t have to go right now. I’m just letting you have your phone back. You know you can stay as long as you want.’
I smile, but she knows as well as I do, that as soon as I switch that phone on and my old life comes flooding back to me, I’ll have no choice but to go.
‘I have to stay, at least until Alexis goes, next week. I did promise.’
‘I wouldn’t worry about that,’ says Rosie shrugging. ‘Rupert’s barely speaking to me on the phone, so I doubt he’ll be rushing up here anytime soon. Besides, he thinks he’s your lover anyway, not mine . . .’
I look back at the well. With Rosie’s permission to go, all that’s keeping me here is my phone.
‘So how are you going to get them out, then?’ I ask.
‘Ah, I have a plan for that.’
She picks up a stick from behind the barn that has a large magnet tied to it.
‘Don’t tell me that’s been there the whole time?’
She shakes her head. ‘No, I bought the bits to make it this morning from the builders’ merchants. There’s a magnet taped to the box that we put the phones in.’
She lowers it down, and there’s silence as both of us hold our breath in expectation.
Any second now, and I’m going to get my baby back.
My stomach is well and truly in knots now. I can’t decide if I’m excited or terrified. Maybe I’m both. Excited to speak to everyone again, but terrified at what I’m going to find relating to #priceless.
‘I think I’ve got it,’ says Rosie. ‘Hang on, hang on. Balls!’
This time, I don’t even react. We’ve been trying to get the phone for half an hour to no avail. I should have known that she’d have been useless; she was always the one who could never hook a duck at the fair when we were kids.
We hear a splosh in the water at the bottom of the well.
‘I’m so sorry, Daisy, I thought it would work. I read about it on the Internet, and I guess the problem is all that rain. This well was supposed to be totally dry. I don’t even think a stronger magnet would help as it’s too difficult to line up the magnets under all that water. That’s if the water hasn’t lifted the tape off the box in the first place.’
My nostrils flare as I try to remain calm. It’s only a phone, it’s only a phone, I say to myself. These last few weeks have proved to me that I can survive without it, but it’s what’s on the phone that’s upsetting me.
‘Surely there has to be another way. What about getting a rope ladder and climbing down?’
‘I think you’d get stuck, it’s not the widest of wells.’
‘What about a hook? Or a stick? Or a . . .’ I’m at a loss.
‘I’m sure I can get it out . . . eventually,’ says Rosie. ‘I can ask one of the builders next week if they’ve got any ideas. They might be able to help.’
‘Might be able to? But everything was on that phone: my photos, my contacts, my messages . . .’
‘Relax, it’ll all be backed up on the iCloud. You’ll not have lost anything, and you can get a new SIM from your network provider. Obviously, I’ll pay for the iPhone.’
‘Too right you will. That was an iPhone 7.’
‘Nice try, toots. I know for a fact it was a 5s.’
No harm in trying.
I can’t help feeling a little relieved that I can put off connecting to the real world for a little bit longer. ‘I guess that’s that, then,’ I say shrugging. ‘I should probably crack on with the painting.’
‘Or I could drive you to the station and you could catch the train to Carlisle. There are Internet cafes there.’
‘Internet cafes? How retro.’
I was under the illusion that they had died a death along with the traditional phone box. Both, I’ve discovered on this trip, are still alive and kicking.
Rosie gives her magnetic fishing line one more go, but we both know she’s onto a loser. Apparently, she’d taped magnetic metal to the Tupperware boxes, thinking that would work.
‘Go grab your wallet and I’ll run you to the station.’
I take a deep breath. There’s really no getting out of this. Rosie seems to have decided that my detox is over.
I do as I’m told, and go into the house, trying to ignore the sadness that washes over me as I enter the decrepit kitchen. I never imagined when I first walked in that I could possibly get attached to it. But, Rosie’s right. I’ve done what I set out to do and there’s a company offering me an interview; I’ve got to at least go and see what they have to say.
‘You know, I’m so proud of you, how you’ve resisted the Internet for as long as you have. I was sure you’d have cracked,’ says Rosie as I climb into the car.
She looks genuinely proud of me and I hang my head in shame as I think of all the times I tried, and failed, to get the Internet. I almost feel guilty for trying.
‘Do you want to check the post?’ she says, pointing to the box as we approach it.
‘Sure,’ I say.
I haven’t checked it since my run-in with Jack and I’m half expecting him to have written a letter in apology. I unlock the box, and I feel a wave of disappointment wash over me as I see it’s empty. Of course it is.
I start to walk over to the car, when I see an old Fiesta drive up to the mailbox. Jenny’s waving from behind the wheel.
‘Hiya; you guys off out?’ she says as she climbs out quickly.
‘Uh-huh, I’m going to Carlisle.’
‘Oh, you lucky thing.’
‘Hmm. And you’re going to see Jack, again,’ I say, more of a statement than a question. I’m pleased I ran into her, it reminds me that argument or no argument, he’s got a girlfriend.
‘Yeah, I’ll, um, see you later,’ she says, a blush spreading over her cheeks.
I sigh as I get into the car.
‘Nervous about what you’re going to find on the Internet?’ asks Rosie.
‘Something like that,’ I say. I’m more nervous that E.D.S.M. won’t lead to anything, as right now I feel as if I want to get as far away from this village, and Jack, as possible.