Delete-Man: A Psychological Thriller (23 page)

“Joseph! Joseph!”

I looked towards the direction
of the shouting. It came from a balcony above and to the left of my
own.

“Hey! Liam! You alright? What’s
all this about?”

“No idea, mate. I was going to
ask you that.”

“Who set the car alight?”

“I dunno, but Susan says she saw
it. She says some woman threw a Molotov cockt—what’s that
sweetheart? She says… Apparently someone lit a firework… And threw
it into the car as it was driving in… What’s that, love?... A
woman.”

“Who would do that? Why’s
everyone fighting?”

“No idea. Bloody nutters. Can’t
even leave the house these days.”

“Yeah. Anyway, I’m gonna get in.
This smoke is burning my eyes. Catch you later.”

“Laters, Joe.”

I stepped inside and closed the
door to avoid the rancid smell of burning paint. The light on the
laptop was now green. Hurriedly sitting down, I wiped my hands on
my jeans and gently pulled the cover open. It was dusty, and there
were more stickers attached to the palmrest inside. The letters on
some of the keys were worn out, and the escape key was missing. I
wiped the screen with my sleeve and blew on the keyboard. I picked
it up and checked one last time on all the sides to ensure nothing
was wrong, then put it down again. With immense hesitation I pushed
the power key. The drive whirred, another green light appeared, as
well as a flashing orange one. The screen lit up with the name of
the laptop manufacturer. I waited for a few minutes, my palm
beginning to sweat with anticipation, until eventually I was
presented with a bright blue screen, Josie’s name, and a box to
enter a password.

“Fuck!”

I clicked around and received
nothing but a red warning symbol telling me the password was
incorrect. Typing carefully, I tried every word I could think of:
Password, Josie, Josephine, Joseph, secret, her date of birth, our
anniversary, our first kiss anniversary, the anniversary of the
night we first had sex. I typed them in every format I could think
of. Eventually Vicky stormed into the room, a brush and a case in
each hand.

“Why are you swearing so
much?”

“This fucking computer.”

“Whose is it? Oh! It’s Josie’s
laptop!”

“Yeah.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s locked. It needs a
password.”

“You don’t know the
password?”

“Of course I don’t.”

She came over and sat in front
of me, manipulating the touchpad. I caught a glimpse of her face.
Her skin now had a magazine sheen and her eyes a downturned
seductiveness that sent my anxiety tumbling down to the pit of my
stomach.

“How did you get her
laptop?”

“Don’t worry about that.”

“Can you guess the
password?”

“No. I tried a hundred times
already. Move out of the way. I’ll keep trying.”

She pulled away and left the
room. I was beginning to feel extremely anxious. The repeated red
warnings frustrated me further and further. I swore and slammed my
fist against the table. After many more attempts, Vicky returned to
the room, this time with an eye pencil.

“I have an idea, big bro. Do you
want to hear it?”

“I give up. I’ll take it to the
computer shop tomorrow and get them to fix it. Dumb thing.”

“What do you want from the
laptop?”

“Remember Josie was writing a
book?”

“Yeah, she told me it was
great.”

Vicky grinned widely. I noticed
that she was also wearing lipgloss.

“It’s on here and I need
it.”

“I can get it for you.”

“How?”

“I can install linux on the
computer—well, a part of it. And then from that part, you can get
anything you want from the Windows part.”

“No, no. You can’t install
anything. You delete it that way.”

“It doesn’t, it installs to the
empty space. It’s fine, watch.”

She walked over to our own
computer and began searching online.

“No, Vicky. I mean it. Don’t
touch this laptop. That’s the only copy of Josie’s book, and you’ll
end up deleting it. Just leave it and I’ll bring it to the computer
shop tomorrow.”

“But it works this way. Trust
me. Martin from my class put a password on the—”

“No. Forget it. It’s not
happening.”

“Why? You don’t believe me? You
never listen to me!”

“I believe you. I just don’t
want to risk it.”

“It’s not a risk it! I know it
works! Just watch!”

“Vicky! Enough!”

“I’m not a baby!”

“I didn’t say you were.”

“Yes you did. You don’t think I
can do anything.”

“Well you think because you put
some make-up on that you’re an adult now? You’re a kid, Vicky.”

“I’m ten years old! I’m not a
kid anymore! I’m eleven in three months!”

“I said enough, Vicky.”

“It’s not fair! I can’t do
anything! I’m gonna run away! I swear I will! You’re horrible!”

“Shut your mouth, Vicky. Don’t
talk to me like that. Go to your room and scrub that mess off your
face. It’s seeping into your brain.”

“No!”

She threw the eye pencil at me
and stormed out of the living room. A second later I heard her door
slam. In the silence that followed I sat once again at the
computer. I reached over and typed some more words. Nothing
happened. I noticed the pencil on the floor, and picked it up.

The phone rang. I placed the
pencil down and answered it.

“What’s going on, Joseph?”

“What do you mean?”

“Vicky just texted me, she
sounds really upset. Did you two have a fight?”

“Not really.”

“You did. She asked me if she
can live with me, Joseph. What happened?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Tell me.”

“I can’t open Josie’s laptop. Do
you know the password?”

“No, I don’t. Don’t change the
subject.”

“I’m not. Did you know she’s
started wearing make-up?”

“No. So?”

“Don’t you think she’s a bit
young for that?”

“Maybe. Is she wearing it all
the time now?”

“Well since she came home. I
gave her some money and she bought a load of make-up. She’s been
plastering it on ever since.”

“It sounds like she’s just doing
a little dress-up. Did you really shout at her because of
that?”

“No, not just that. But that’s
enough don’t you think? Ten year olds aren’t supposed to wear
make-up.”

“Give her some credit, Joseph.
She’s just exploring a bit. Talk to her. Nicely. Tell her it’s
alright; once in a while, at home. Just for fun.”

“It doesn’t seem like the sort
of thing she should be doing.”

“Well, technically, it isn’t.
But that’s no reason to punish her. She’s just experimenting a
bit.”

“Maybe.”

“And the last thing you want is
to make it some taboo, otherwise she’ll end up more obsessed with
it than ever.”

“I suppose. It’s confusing. I
don’t know about that kinda thing.”

“What thing? Make-up?”

“Yeah.”

“Girly things. You’re way too
macho for that, aren’t you?”

“It’s not just that. She also
wanted to do something to Josie’s laptop.”

“Do what?”

“I don’t know. Install
something. Break it probably. Trying to get Josie’s book off
it.”

“So let her. If she says she can
get it, then she probably can. She’s a smart girl. She knows how to
work my phone better than I do.”

“You think so?”

“Absolutely. She’s a kid, not an
idiot, Joseph. Don’t you remember what you were like when you were
young? And you knew about things that your parents didn’t? You’re
the last one to get advice about computers from, anyway.”

“That laptop has the only copy
of her novel. If something happens then it’s gone forever.”

“I’d bet on you damaging it
before Vicky does. Look; ask her how she can get into it. Ask her
to explain it, and then see if you don’t want to do it. But Christ,
at least talk to her before you jump down her throat, Joseph.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right. Go on,
talk to her.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem. Oh, Joseph, wait.
About the… you know.”

“What?”

“I spoke to some people at the
funeral.”

“Yeah?”

“I told them that I knew you
were at home all day.”

“How? They wouldn’t believe
you.”

“Well… The way I told it made
them believe me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t feel strange about this,
but I told them we were a couple. That you were over Josie, even
before she died.”

I hesitated before replying.

“I don’t get it.”

“You said it yourself; they
think the worst of you. That you’re a loser and a thug. I just
played that up a bit. They’re only too willing to believe you
didn’t really care for Josie, and that you’ve already forgotten
about her.”

“I see… What about you though?
Don’t they hate you too now?”

“That’s what makes it
believable.”

“You don’t mind that
though?”

“Please. I hope I never see
these people again just as much as Josie did. I was reminded today
how much of a slimeball Sebastien is. Anyway, point is, you don’t
have to worry. They’ve pretty much put it down to envy and the
decline of English values. Actually, I think they’re enjoying
playing the righteous victims too much to care who actually did
it.”

“Thanks.”

“It’s alright.”

“I mean it though. Thanks. I
appreciate everything.”

There was a moment of silence on
the line.

“Ok, well. I’m going to make
dinner now. Talk to Vicky. Tell me how it goes.”

“I will. See you.”

“Bye, Joseph.”

After putting the phone down I
sat rubbing my eyes for a while, thinking over what Monika had
said. She was right about pretty much everything. I felt a little
lost, and my impulse was to pick up the phone again and call her
back, but I could think of nothing more to say. I got up and made
my way to Vicky’s door.

“Vee? Can I come in?”

There was no answer.

“Vee?”

A choked voice stuttered from
behind the door.

“Go away.”

I opened the door and saw her
standing in front of the mirror, brush in hand. She turned suddenly
with eyes wide, shifting the hand with the brush slowly behind her,
as if caught doing something wrong, yet defiantly so.

“It’s alright. Carry on. You
don’t mind if I watch, do you?”

I sidled over to the bed and sat
down. Vicky watched me cautiously, like an animal watching a
predator.

“Go on. Don’t mind me.”

Slowly she turned to the mirror
and made as if to carry on, but I could see her eyes fixed on me in
the reflection.

“So you’re into make-up
now?”

“No.”

“It’s alright. I don’t mind you
trying make-up sometimes. I was just surprised. You should probably
wait until you’re older before you start wearing it regularly
though.”

“I just wanted to try it.”

“Yeah. Let me see.”

She turned towards me.

“Come here.”

She stood in front of me. I held
her arm and turned her gently from side to side.

“Very pretty.”

“No.”

“Yeah, you are. You look very
glamourous.”

“No I don’t.”

“Yeah you do. You’re a beautiful
young girl.”

I pulled her towards me and
embraced her. She felt stiff, but eventually relinquished and held
me back.

“You alright?”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry for shouting at you
before. But you shouldn’t be wearing make-up so young. In a few
years maybe; when you’re a teenager.”

“But my friends all wear
make-up.”

“Well they probably need it more
than you. You don’t need to cover up that cute little face.”

She squeezed me slightly.

“How about we make a little
deal?”

“What deal?”

“You can wear make-up when
you’re at home every once in a while, just for fun. But every time
you do, you got to perform for me.”

“Perform my play?”

“Yeah, or something else. Monika
told me you’ve been trying really hard at drama in school.”

“Yeah, I want to be the best
actress in the world.”

“Then you will be.”

“I want to win an Oscar.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah.”

“Well then, it’ll be good
practice.”

“Yeah. I’m going to change my
play. I want it to have a song.”

“Like a musical?”

“Yeah.”

“I can’t wait to hear it.”

I let her go and we smiled at
each other meekly to signify the tension was broken. She turned
back to the mirror and looked at herself, striking a few poses. The
repulsion I had felt before rose up again but I quickly suppressed
it. I checked the time, it was getting late. I got up.

“Hey Vee.”

“Yeah?”

I hesitated briefly, still
unsure.

“You really think you can get
the files from Josie’s laptop?”

“Yeah, it’s easy. Do you want me
to?”

“Show me how first.”

“Can we have pizza tonight?”

“Driving a bargain now, are
you?

“Haha, yeah!”

“Ok, deal.”

Despite the assurance of various
internet pages detailing the process, and Vicky’s obvious
foreknowledge of what it entailed, I watched her manipulate Josie’s
laptop with extreme tension. The thought that all of Josie’s work,
and the clues it possessed about her death, might disappear
irretrievably was impossible to ignore. As Vicky leapt from her
laptop to our own desktop computer, swapping disks and clicking
through web pages I halted her repeatedly with new attempts at
guessing the password. With each attempt I knew more thoroughly
that I would never be able to guess it. Josie was too smart, and
too cautious, to have a password that was obvious in any way. It
would probably be something long, or misspelt, or ridiculously
abstract. I gulped at my third beer of the day, dizzying myself
beyond the worrisome thoughts.