‘Thanks for the show of support,’ Ali retorted.
‘Oh, I’m sorry, you need my support during this very difficult fake crisis pregnancy?’ Ali knew Liv had dropped the outrage, at least momentarily, by her tone, which was still kind of stern but a little playful too. ‘I. Am. Here. For. You.’ Liv adopted the emphatic rhythm of an American reality TV star. ‘Whatever you need. Rub your feet? Steal you a baby? I am on it. Perineum massage?’
‘Eww. What even is that?’
‘Worst fake pregnant lady ever, Ali. You need to do your homework.’
‘I will,’ insisted Ali, by now poised to head for work – she didn’t want to leave Liv unsupervised in her room, but she remained stubbornly seated on the bed.
‘You’re not even going to ask how the thesis extension went, are you? This is how it always goes. Everything is more important than my academic stuff. I wrote that my last paper was being published in the WhatsApp group and there were tumbleweeds. Then Jess is all “that Tinder guy came on my tits” and it’s like an emoji exploji. Now even a fake baby is stealing my thunder.’
‘Sorry, sorry, sorry – did you settle on a title for the thesis? Has Emer still not mentioned the messages?’
‘Yes and no.’
Ali took a moment to sort those answers. ‘Great, so she’s ready to move on and ignore your demented Solpadeine-fuelled outburst.’
‘Yep and I am going to continue aggressively pretending I don’t care about her until I actually somehow don’t. That works, right? Wanna know what my thesis title is? I think you might relate …’
From Liv’s wily little smirk, Ali sensed this was a trick question, but she needed to wrap this up and get over to the station. ‘Go on.’
‘“Fear and Self-Loathing in the Insta Age: A Cultural Analysis of Why a New Generation Would Rather Live a Lie than Face Reality”. That’s not too close to the bone now, is it, Ali?’
‘No.’ Ali started herding Liv towards the door. ‘That is not what I am doing here. Look, just keep me out of it, please. I have to go. I’ll see you later. Domino’s? Cheesy Crust?’ Ali was deliberately invoking their fave to get Liv back onside.
‘OK, you’re buying. If you don’t want me to out you as a foetus faker, that is – hey, this whole thing has a pretty sweet upside for me,’ Liv exclaimed faux brightly as Ali gave her a final friendly shove out of the room and down the hall.
Ducking back in, she grabbed her bag, laptop and phone, snapped a quick #OOTD for the ’gram and slammed the door behind her.
11
Over the weekend Ali’d kept a low profile. Liv had gone very quiet on the matter of the pregnancy, which was freaking Ali out more than anything. She’d become increasingly annoyed as the days passed without Ali resolving the issue and now a stony silence was reigning over breakfast. Ali couldn’t even bring herself to do a proats Insta-post while Liv sat sullenly across from her.
‘What are you up to today?’ Ali tried.
‘I’m going to UCD to meet a PhD student who is writing a thesis on the selfie. I’m hoping she’s going to supply some quotes for one of the central chapters.’ Liv didn’t even look up from her day planner as she spoke and Ali nervously fiddled with her toast. She couldn’t deal with Liv being angry with her – Mondays were depressing enough.
‘Ah, cool.’ Ali nodded.
‘I suppose you want a lift to work? Is that why you’re bothering to ask?’ Liv fixed Ali with a bitchy smile.
‘No! I always ask what you’re up to. Please don’t be like this.’
Liv stood suddenly and started shoving her planner and notes into her bag. ‘I just can’t believe you’ve let the whole weekend go without fixing this thing. And you’re going to meet Tinder Sam tonight and say what?’
‘I don’t know yet.’ Ali faltered. ‘I’m going to work that out today. Kate’s coming down to work over lunch and we’re going to make a plan.’
‘Does Kate know the truth?’
‘She doesn’t need to know. She’s just gonna help me with the Insta-strategy – the bump journey and stuff.’ Ali squirmed a little – she knew how it sounded.
Liv looked stunned. ‘So you’re actually going ahead with this?’
‘Just for a couple of months, just until the awards, and then I’ll figure it out. I’ll say I was a surrogate or something. It’s not hurting anyone.’
‘Isn’t it, Ali?’ Liv replied starkly before leaving the kitchen, quietly shutting the door behind her.
Ali spent the morning in studio, coordinating scenes, and then settled into one of the empty prefab offices just behind the fake Ballyknocken main street that served as background for all exterior scenes inDurty Aul’ Town. It was the perfect place to work for an hour, as the rest of the day would be spent filming an outdoor scene in which John Jo, the resident troublemaker played by her old college ‘chum’ Seamus, would be dealing some cocaine to the youths of Ballyknocken ahead of a disco in the community centre that was serving as this week’s dramatic climax.
