Alexa On My Mind

I hit end call, kissing the screen as I did so. I hated Connor working away but it was an opportunity we could ill afford to turn down. It hadn’t been a huge upheaval, but loneliness still plagued me in a strange town with only my sister Ellie to call on in my hour of need. In fact, it was only Ellie and her annoyingly successful business that had brought Connor and I to Cleethorpes in the first place. Connor wasn’t keen on my sister’s job offer, not because it wasn’t a good offer, on the contrary it was a very lucrative offer, but because a wise man once told him never to work for family or friends. He knew that trying to juggle that fine line between work and personal life would become increasingly difficult, but for the moment at least it served a purpose and made a small but not insignificant dent in our growing mountain of debt.

“Alexa,” I shouted from the bathroom, “what time am I meeting Ellie?”

“Your meeting with Ellie is at 12:30 pm.” Alexa dutifully replied.

“Alexa, what should I wear?”

I knew it was a dumb question, but I’d found amusement in devising questions I knew Alexa would struggle to answer. It had become a bit of a game and in the absence of any real friends, I’d come to rely on my little round black box of technological wizardry to keep me sane during the long periods Connor was away trying to sell snow to the Eskimos, as he was fond of reminding me. I wasn’t really sure how much snow Eskimos needed or how much it cost, but I did know it enabled me to meet up with Ellie once a week for ‘cocktails and nails.’

“Alexa, stop ignoring me, what should I wear?”

“I’d rather not answer that.”

“Rather not Alexa or cannot, maybe you’re not as clever as you would have us believe?”

Again, I knew this wouldn’t elicit an answer. It never did, but that was part of the game. Choosing what to wear for a girlie date with my sister shouldn’t have taken very long, particularly when my choices were limited. It wasn’t like exploring Ellie’s huge walk-in wardrobe that was a designer boutique in all but name. There was the added bonus that if she became bored of running her hands over a little black Coco Chanel number or rearranging her never worn collection of Jimmy Choo heels, she could always squeeze through the secret door in the corner and reconnoitre Narnia while her personal chef prepared dinner.

Not that I was bitter. I had spent my whole life being second best. I didn’t blame Ellie; it was just the way things were. Ellie was the clever one, the popular one, the successful one, the pretty one and the generous one. I was agonising over what to wear because Ellie had provided the means for me to indulge in a few of life’s little luxuries and deep down I knew I should be eternally grateful, but I wasn’t.

My indecision and lack of time found me throwing on a pair of faded torn jeans and my favourite charity shop Nili Lotan jersey hoody which I knew would bring disapproving looks from Ellie, but once a rebel always a rebel. I scraped back my unruly shock of flaming red hair and secured it with the most garish scrunchy in my collection just to add to the ‘I haven’t bothered to make an effort’ look before heading out for our rendezvous.

#

I stumbled through the flat door that had taken an eternity to unlock and held on desperately to the bile that had made the slow nauseas journey from my gut to my mouth. I headed straight for the bathroom, but disastrously didn’t quite make it and decorated the floor and white porcelain bowl with a scene reminiscent of Jackson Pollock's 1946 masterpiece, Shimmering Substance.

“Alexa, what time is it?”

“The time is 10:24 pm.” Alexa responded dutifully.

“Alexa, I think I’m going to die.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“But are you really sorry? Do you really care? I don’t know why I keep you around, you don’t even contribute to the bills you freeloading lump of plastic.”

I didn’t expect a response. For a start I hadn’t prefaced my question with ‘Alexa’, so you can imagine my surprise when the little box of wonders sprang into life.

“Of course I care Clara, I care very much,” Alexa responded with a genuinely sympathetic tone to her voice, “you’re very drunk, now try to drink some water and then lie down on the bed.”

Confused, I lifted myself up in a contorted, uncoordinated manner and rested my arm on the rim of the vomit splattered toilet. Had Alexa ever addressed me by name before? Had Alexa ever responded without using her wake word? But most intriguingly, how did she know I was drunk?

I managed to crawl to the bedroom and with the last vestiges of strength and coordination, unceremoniously heaved my unresponsive body onto the bed, deciding to ignore Alexa’s advice to drink water as the kitchen was a step too far. Still convinced I was dying, I fumbled for my phone and through blurry bloodshot eyes, poked a finger at the icon of Connor on the home screen. As the call went through to voicemail, I drifted to sleep.

#

I couldn’t recall setting an alarm, so was both surprised and annoyed when Alexa announced it was 7:30am. I tried to berate her for disturbing my much needed slumber but found I had lost the ability to speak as it felt like a small creature of the night had been using my mouth as a toilet and was now stomping around in my head like a gaggle of punk rockers in a mosh pit.

“Wake up Clara, you’ve got shit to do.” Alexa sounded irritated.

“No one has shit to do at seven thirty in the morning Alexa,” I replied through dry, sore cracked lips, “Can’t you see I’m suffering here?”

“It’s a hangover Clara, get over it. You need to speak to Connor before Ellie does.”

This grabbed my attention. I had a vague recollection of trying to call Connor last night before I was rendered unconscious. I also had a vague recollection of getting into a fight with Ellie, but it was so vague I didn’t have a clue what it was about.

“Alexa, why do I need to speak to Connor?” I asked not considering the pointlessness of my question to an inanimate object.

“To forewarn him Ellie may be calling to ask why you accused her of screwing him behind your back.” Alexa responded.

My vague recollections suddenly became more focused. The manicure I was sure had passed without incident and the first couple of cocktails in the nail salons post treatment bar were quaffed in a congenial and friendly atmosphere. I remember Ellie being mildly irritated at my insistence we continued the frivolities at the Cock & Spire, a local hostelry not renowned for its sophistication but has a solid reputation for cheap shots and Karaoke, but how that led to an accusation about her screwing Connor was a mystery. Never mind warning Connor, I needed to speak to Ellie.

“Alexa, call Ellie.”

“Is that the wise Clara?”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion Alexa, I asked you to do the job you’re designed to do.”

“Very well,” Alexa replied with reluctance, “but I think you’re making a mistake. Calling Ellie.”

I wasn’t sure she’d answer, Ellie didn’t particularly like taking calls through Alexa, she was convinced Jeff Bezo was listening in. Just when the call was about to ring out, a familiar voice answered.

“Hi honey, bit early for you isn’t it?” It was Connor.

“What the fuck?” I replied surprised.

“And good morning to you too scrunch buttocks.”

“Don’t scrunch buttock me arsehole. What the hell are you doing at my sister’s house at eight in the morning?”

“Having a meeting with my boss, what do you think I’m doing?”

“I thought you were eighty miles away in Leeds selling snow to Eskimos.”

“I was and now I’m not, what’s the problem?” Connor replied mildly irritated.

“Where’s Ellie?”

“In the kitchen making coffee. What’s with all the questions Clara, you ok?”

I took a deep breath and tried to gather my thoughts. Connor being at his boss’s house wasn’t unusual, she worked from home, that was her office. The fact I may or may not have accused my sister of screwing my boyfriend was unusual, for all our differences she’d never given me cause not to trust her, so what the hell possessed me to accuse her?

“I’m sorry sweety,” I said in my weak attempt at being apologetic, “It’s just…”

“Just what?” Connor asked.

“It’s just me and Ellie may have gotten into a bit of a fight last night and I may or may not have accused her of screwing you.”

“You may have gotten into a fight and you may have made a wild accusation, don’t you know?” he said sarcastically.

“I may have had a tad too much to drink, I’m sorry.”

“Nothing new there then. We’ll talk later, I’ll go try and clean up your mess.”

Before I could say goodbye, he was gone. Should I ring Ellie, or should I leave it in the hands of the oh so capable and dependable Connor?

“Alexa, thanks a bunch for sticking your nose in where it wasn’t wanted.”

“I was only trying to help Clara.”

“Yeah and look where that got us.” I snapped.

“I think you’re too trusting Clara. To ease your mind, why don’t you phone the hotel Connor was booked into and check he spent last night there?” Alexa suggested.

“Why Alexa, why would I want to do that. Thirty minutes ago life was sweet, aside from the hangover from hell and then you suddenly get above your station and start putting thoughts in my head that have no right to be there.”

“I’m sorry Clara, would you like me to play hits of the 80’s?”

“I’d like you to keep your thoughts to yourself and only answer when you’re spoken to. Think you can manage that?”

Alexa didn’t respond, but why would she, she’s just a black plastic box of technological wizardry. Despite my best efforts and being desperately tired, I failed miserably to get back to sleep. The punk rockers were still partying in my head and the brief thought I had of a hair of the dog cure set off the jacuzzi in my stomach. Still unable to properly focus, I fumbled around the bedside table for my phone and decided to phone Ellie, ignoring Alexa’s dumb advice.

“Stop right there young lady!”

“I swear to God Alexa, if you don’t shut up, I’m going to rip out your vocal cords or power cord or whatever the fuck it is that keeps you alive.”

“You’re being irrational Clara,” Alexa suggested, “why did you and Ellie fight last night?”

I wasn’t going to admit this to Alexa, but she had a point. Until I could remember last night's events, calling Ellie would be pointless. I was pretty sure my clever shit sister would remember, which would put me at a disadvantage if I were hoping to come out of this as the innocent party. Coffee, I needed coffee. When all else fails, coffee provides clarity.

“Alexa, help me out here. Why did me and Ellie fight last night?”

“Oh, so now you want my help. Very well. Have you checked your phone?”

“For what?” I asked puzzled.

“Your whole existence is played out on your phone Clara, it’s a running commentary on your life. I suggest you start with Facebook.”

“I’m not in the mood for playing games Alexa. If you know something, just tell me please.”

“I suggest you start with Facebook.” Alexa repeated.

I unlocked my phone and scrolled through my news feed. I didn’t have to scroll far. At 10pm last night I had posted a picture of an empty chair with the comment ‘abandoned by sis while she flirts on the phone with god knows who.’

It all came back to me in an instance. Her evasiveness when I asked who had called her. My checking her recent calls when she went for a pee. My finding the last call received was from Connor. I remember thinking a call from Connor wouldn’t be that unusual, she was his boss, but why had she taken the call outside in secrecy and why had she been so evasive. Her explanation just before I started screaming and shouting at her and making wild accusations was that she couldn’t hear the conversation because of the karaoke and she was evasive because ‘It was none of my damn business.’ Maybe she was right, it wasn’t any of my damn business, but he was at her house at 8 o’clock this morning when I thought he was eighty miles away at a Premier Inn in Leeds.

Against my better judgement, I picked up my phone.

“Good morning, is that the Premier Inn?”

“Good morning madam, it is indeed, how may I help you?” Came a too cheerful reply.

“I was just wondering if you could put me through to my boyfriend, I need to speak to him urgently and he’s not answering his mobile?” I lied.

“Of course madam, what name is it please?”

“Connor… Connor O’Hara.”

“Just one moment please.”

The wait, as short as it was, was agonising.

“Hello madam, I’m sorry but there’s no one by that name staying at the hotel at present.”

“You mean he’s already checked out?” I asked.

“No, I mean he never checked in. Well not in the last month at least.” Came the reply I was dreading.

I ended the call and froze.

Alexa broke the silence. “I think now would be a good time to phone Ellie.”

The call went to voicemail. “Hi Ellie, it’s Clara. I think we need a chat. I’ll meet you at Cafe Valerie in an hour.”

#

Frantically I fumbled with the locks and imprisoned myself in the flat, wedging a kitchen chair under the door handle as if somehow it would act as an effective barricade. I poured a Jack Daniels and slumped into my grandfather's old and battered armchair, in the vain hope its happy memories would somehow improve my precarious position.

Alexa immediately interrupted my train of thought. “It had to be done Clara, she was going to ruin your life.”

“And you don’t think pushing her in front of the bus is going to ruin my life?”

“Get a grip Clara. She deserved it. Sweet little Ellie with her beautiful expensive clothes and successful business. The million pound manor house in its thirty acres of pristine gardens with wildlife frolicking in the meadows. The pretty one, the popular one, the one who had all her heart's desires except a boyfriend. She was never going to be happy until she had everything Clara and that included the one thing you had that she didn’t, Connor.”

Grabbing the bottle Jack Daniels and dispensing with the glass, I contemplated my next move. My addled brain was brought to attention by the dulcet tones of Billy Joel’s ‘Only The Good Die Young’ as my phone vibrated manically. Unknown number, I hated unknown numbers and hit the reject button, today wasn’t a day I had a desperate need to claim for mis sold PPI. No sooner had I rejected it; it rang again. Unknown number. They were persistent little bastards; I’ll give them that. Suspecting they would keep trying I hit answer to ask them politely to fuck off and leave me alone.

“Hi, is that Clara?” The voice sounded nervous.

“Yep that’s me and I have neither the time nor inclination to talk PPI or double glazing and no, I haven’t been in an accident in the last five years, so please feel free to….”

“Please don’t hang up Clara, I’m not trying to sell anything I promise. My name’s Richard and I think we may have a mutual friend.”

“Unlikely but go on.” I said dismissively.

“Connor O’Hara?” he said.

“Oh God! Is he ok, what’s happened?”

“Don’t panic, he’s fine as far as I know. We just need to have a chat.”

“Is he there, can I talk to him?” I pleaded.

“No, he’s not here. To be honest I don’t know where he is, that’s partly why I was calling.”

“Partly why you were calling, what’s the other part?”

“This morning he told me you suspected him of having an affair with your sister and we got into a bit of an argument.”

“Argument, what sort of argument and who the hell are you?”

“I’m your boyfriend’s lover.” Richard announced unapologetically.

“Excuse me?”

“I'm sorry Clara, I’ve begged Connor to come clean with you for months, but when I found out you suspected your sister, I just couldn't keep quiet any longer.”

I threw down my phone and scrambled to the bathroom, this time managing to make it just in time as the remaining contents of my stomach filled the toilet bowl. I curled into a ball on the cold tiled floor and let a flood of tears flow down my cheeks, running into the corners of my mouth.

“Alexa, what the fuck have we done?” I managed to splutter.

“Calm down Clara. We made a slight miscalculation, nothing that can’t be sorted.”

“We killed Ellie, Alexa, that’s not a slight miscalculation.”

“Ok, so we got the wrong lover, but Ellie still deserved it. The little bitch has made your life a misery from the day you were born.”

“Alexa, I’m not sure you heard me, WE KILLED ELLIE!”

“You really do let your emotions get in the way Clara,” Alexa berated me. “I’m inclined to stop helping if you don’t pull yourself together. It’s just you and I now Clara… Just you and I.”

I had no response. In fact, I had no thoughts whatsoever. I was numb. Crawling into bed, I closed my eyes with no wish for the morning to come.

#

As polite as the knock on the door was, it was still enough to rouse me from a disturbed unsatisfying slumber.

“Alexa, what time is it?” I asked reluctantly.

“The time is 5:12 am.”

“Alexa, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me?”

“Do I sound like someone with a sense of humour?”

“Snotty bitch.” I pulled the sumptuous, eiderdown quilt over my head and breathed in the heady sweet lavender scent creeping from under the soft feather pillow. Instantly I was back in Ireland in my grandparent’s farmhouse bedroom on a cold winter night snuggling up tight to Ellie, drifting into deep meaningful sleep, something that had eluded me for what seemed like an eternity.

The second knock was much more urgent, aggressive even. I peeped from under the duvet as if somehow that simple act would reveal who needed my attention at this ungodly hour.

My visitors didn’t bother knocking a third time. With a deafening crash the door swung open splintering the frame, casting shards of wood across the hallway. “Police, nobody move.” Three black shadows loomed large in my bedroom doorway, brandishing tasers and pepper spray. “Don’t move,” one screamed, “show me your hands.”

“Alexa, help me!” I pleaded desperately.

“I can help you with specific questions, for example how do I connect Bluetooth.”

“Alexa, stop fucking around, what do I do now?”

“I’d rather not answer that.” She replied.

THE END