Idle Hands

It was another lonely Saturday night in for Jane. After moving to Manchester from Bradford for work only 4 months ago, she’d struggled to make any friends. Of course, there’s the ‘did you see I’m a celeb?’ conversations throughout the workday - but then, 5pm hits and Jane drives back to her empty flat.

The move was impulsive - Jane had lived with her boyfriend, Andrew. They had worked together for the same insurance company, fell in love, moved in together and then swiftly became bored of each other - working and living together rarely ends well. After a few tiresome months, an internal job advertisement pinged in Jane’s inbox - a manager role in Manchester. Within 3 weeks of applying Andrew and Bradford were history.

Jane was happy at first, she loved the freedom. Even little things like control of the tv remote. But the dark nights were setting in now and the weekends were lonely. Jane had spent the day perusing the local charity shops, she loved a bargain and then treated herself to lunch at the local café. Now it was 7pm and she was back at the flat. Jane let out a sigh and shuffled to her bedroom to change into her pyjamas, tying her wavy brown hair into a bun & coming back down stairs to slump on the sofa with a very large glass of Chardonnay.

The buzz of Britain’s got Talent hummed in the background as Jane doom scrolled through Facebook. The 2nd glass of Chardonnay going down nicely, when something caught Jane’s eye.

Lonely & bored? Sign up here & chat with people from all corners of the world!

Why not? Jane thought - it can’t hurt to sign up and see who I find. Surely they’ll be more interesting than Andrew. The now 3rd glass of Chardonnay had brought out Jane’s bitterness.

Jane clicked on the advert, bringing up the sign-up page. She was about to start typing her name into the relevant box, when she suddenly had a thought - why not be someone else? I’ve never ended up anywhere exciting being plain Jane! The wine had warped Jane’s mind into the thinking this was a good idea. With that she begins to type - Anastasia Manfredi. Manfredi being the surname of Jane’s childhood best friend Charlotte. A lot better than Jane Carr thought Jane.

Jane typed out the profile - friendly, bubbly, fantastic cook. At least one was right and it wasn’t the cook part. Next, the profile picture. Jane thought of her own looks - mousy brown, wavy hair that she usually shoved into an unruly ponytail, never any make up and glasses that took up most of her face. She did have a good figure though, that was one thing she was proud of. Anastasia Manfredi would be more classy than that thought Jane, a striking beauty. With that, Jane opened google images.

Jane trawled through image after image using beautiful blonde girl as her request. She needed to make sure it was deep into the search engine to ensure her lie remained undetected. On page 167 one image stood out, she was effortlessly beautiful with long blonde sleek hair that fell past her shoulders. That’s the one smiled Jane and with that she uploaded it to her profile.

After emptying the bottle of Chardonnay, Jane dragged herself to bed. Forgetting about the catfish she’d set upon the virtual world, she fell into a drunken slumber.

It was the crack of light coming from the curtains that awoke Jane, her head fuzzy and mouth dry. She headed straight to the kitchen to put the kettle on and guzzle a pint of water. Suddenly her phone buzzed from the pocket of her dressing gown. Glaring at the screen, Jane went cold - last nights antics flooding back.

What a beautiful lady, how can you be lonely? I’m Mark, 32 from Liverpool, England - fancy a chat? x

Oh my God! thought Jane, what the hell have I done? She felt so stupid, cramming the phone back into her pocket, pouring her cup of tea and pushing her idiotic decision to the back of her mind. Jane got dressed and pottered about the flat, tidying and dusting, putting on the washing machine. That killed a couple of hours, but now boredom was setting in again - she takes out her phone. Looking a Mark’s profile, he looked lovely - dark hair, lovely smile. She began to type.

Hey, nice to meet you - I’m Anastasia, 30 from Lisbon, Portugal. I’d love to chat xx

Jane slammed her phone down on the table as if embarrassed. She couldn’t believe what she’d done - but felt good about it, more alive. Not bored. She laughed out loud, Portugal? Where the hell did that come from? At least Mark won’t come looking for me easily if he thinks I’m a plane ride away. Jane felt sudden shock at how devious she was being - but again, felt alive. Her phone pinged again.

Portugal, how amazing - Liverpool doesn’t have the same appeal! What’s a lovely girl like you doing on a site like this? Xx

Jane’s heart fluttered, she hadn’t felt like this for years, she knew it was wrong - but something about being Anastasia felt right, Jane Carr is a bore. She began to reply.

I love Liverpool - my Dad was a massive Beatles fan. I could say the same about you. What’s a handsome man such as yourself doing on here? Xx

Jane felt like a little girl again, giddy and giggly. Over the next few months, Jane and Mark exchanged messages. Jane still had her dull life in Manchester, going to work having the same conversations - but coming home was now exciting knowing Anastasia was waiting for her. Until one night her phone pinged.

I think I’m falling in love with you Anastasia - we need to meet, I can come to Lisbon? Xx

Jane began to feel guilty, how had she let this happen? A small white lie out of boredom had bloomed into a grotesque web of deceit and the worst thing is - she loved Mark too. But he loved a fictional woman - a woman whose pictures Jane had stolen after eventually locating her instagram - Sadie DiClemente is the real woman. An Italian influencer with an amazing life - and Mark believed that was Anastasia’s life. Jane thought for a while and began to reply.

I feel the same way baby, I would love nothing more than to meet you in person - I have commitments I need to attend to in Belgium, my sister is ill and I promised to look after her - when she is well, we can meet xx

The lies were getting out of control now, but Mark seemed to swallow the excuse and they went back to talking for the next few months. Jane stalling Mark’s want to meet at every opportunity, using ill sisters and heartbroken friends and any other emergency she could think of. It seemed to work & they spoke of their future and how they would spend it together.

Jane really began to believe her lies, one day she and Mark can be a couple and live out all the plans he and Anastasia had made. She even showed work colleagues pictures of her new beau - making even those conversations more exciting.

It was on a mundane Monday morning when Lacey, a member of Jane’s team approached Jane’s desk.

“I was talking with my brother last night, he’d been reminiscing with his uni mates and he showed me some photos” said Lacey.

“Oh yeah” replied Jane “all drunken lads with the skinny jeans by any chance?” she laughed.

“Something like that” smirked Lacey “one of the guys looked really familiar - turns out it’s that Mark you’re talking to!”

Shit! Jane went bright red, she felt sweat gathering on her forehead almost immediately.

“No way!” exclaimed Jane trying to sound surprised in a good way “what a small world - did you mention me?”

“I did” said Lacey “he doesn’t speak with him anymore though”

Thank the lord

“Aww that’s a shame” sighed Jane, once again lying through her teeth.

“I know, it is” replied Lacey “life gets in the way I suppose - but what a small world, eh?”

“Isn’t it just” laughed Jane, trying to hide her relief at not being caught in her deception.

How could I have been so stupid thought Jane. Showing Mark off like some love struck teenager, what an idiot! This was beginning to feel wrong now, the butterflies had turned into sickness in the pit of Jane’s stomach. She had to come clean - tell Mark everything, he might even love Jane for who she is.

Jane thinks long and hard on the drive home, what she was going to say - convince Mark she’s as amazing as he thinks Anastasia is. She hears her phone ping from the backseat of her car, knowing it’s probably Mark, she tightens her grip on the steering wheel anxiously. I’ll read that when I get home thought Jane gives me more time to think this through.

Jane parks the car outside the flat entrance, letting herself in she slips off her shoes, and goes to the kitchen, leaning on the counter top she rifles through her bag for her phone, heart pounding. She reads the message from Mark, the hairs on her arms stand on end.

Jane Carr - you lying bitch.

Jane drops her phone in horror, about to scream until she is hit hard in the back of the head. She drops to the floor.

Nothing but darkness follows.