The Skype Ghost

 

“Oh for crying out loud, not again!   Hang on love, I’ll just close this and ‘phone you.”  Angie pressed the appropriate button that ended the Skype connection with her friend Wendy. 

 
This was the third time this week that old busy-body had butted in on their conversation.  How was she doing it?  Angie had already complained to Skype's help line, but they had found no record of anyone ‘hacking’ in to either her or Wendy’s account.  The busy-body may be old, but damn, she was good, she was able to break through to other people’s accounts without detection. 

Wendy's phone was engaged when Angie had calmed down enough to call her.  In fact Angie hadn't been able to get through on the phone to Wendy at all this week.  This wasn't unusual, Wendy had a lot of relatives who were constantly calling her.  Wendy's phone was always seemingly engaged.  Angie left yet another message on her answer machine, promising to Skype her tomorrow, when hopefully, they would be left in peace to have a good chin wag.

Wendy and Angie had met on Face book.  After forming a bond on the ‘Message’ app., they had both admitted to each other that they found this particular social network boring.  This had led them to starting up their respective Skype accounts.  It was wonderful being able to see the person you were talking to, almost as though they were in the same room as yourself. Only living a couple of counties away from each other they had arranged to meet up and have lunch, and perhaps see a show or something.  As they had made their arrangements for the coming weekend it was vital that they get their plans ‘sorted.’ Yet every time, in what should have been a week of exciting planning, that Angie had made a connection to Wendy, the line would go all fuzzy and the face of some old woman had come onto the screen.  This usually happened within the first few moments of them exchanging greetings, just before they had chance to launch into a conversation properly.  Every time it had happened the old woman had said, “My dear, there is something you ought to know.”  Well, Angie didn’t want to know what a complete stranger who had hacked into her private conversation had to say, and, with apologies to Wendy, had just simply switched Skype off.  Obviously the elderly hacker  somehow knew how to disrupt further connections too, because when Angie always tried to re-connect some moments later, she received the unavailable sign, and yet she knew Wendy would be waiting for her to contact back. Three times it had happened, and Angie was getting really sick of it.  On the spur of the moment Angie decided to try and Skype Wendy again that night, it was very late now, but she might just catch her before she went to bed. That could work to their advantage.  Surely the old woman would be tucked up in her own bed, either sleeping or planning her next intrusion.

The Skype connection was answered straight away, but not by Wendy.  It was that damnable old woman again.  Angie squeezed her eyes shut in frustration.  When she opened them she reached for the ‘end call’ button…..and then froze.  She recognised the room in which the old lady sat.  It was Wendy’s living room. 

 
The old woman was speaking, “My dear, please, please do not cut me off again.  There is something you really must know.  Please listen.”  
Taken aback, and more than a little frightened, by the appearance of the hacker in Wendy’s home, Angie just nodded.

  
“My dear,” continued the old woman, “I know you do not know me, although I am somewhat confused by your attitude, first you greet me with all pleasantries and then you apologise and cut me off!  But, but, that is all water under the bridge now you are at last listening to me, you are listening dear aren’t you?  This is hard for me too, and I have no wish to repeat it.”  

Mesmerised by the old woman’s seeming advancement into insanity, Angie once again nodded.  

“Good, good,” said the old woman, “I am Wendy’s Auntie, and I am afraid I have some very bad news.  I know that you girls had planned to meet up this weekend so it was imperative I get in touch, I find the telephone too impersonal for calls of this nature, and as I did not have your address to write, I thought this way of telling you would be kindest.  I am afraid to say that last weekend Wendy was involved in an accident, she, she didn’t recover from her injuries, oh my dear, oh my dear…………..” 

 
Angie watched as the tears flowed from the old Aunts eye’s and down into the deep creases of her face.  The Aunt continued to speak, giving details of the funeral arrangements, interrupting herself every now and then to ask if Angie was OK.  Angie’s answers were monosyllabic as her own stunned and grief-stricken tears started to fall.  The Auntie eventually gave her goodbyes and the screen went momentarily blank………..before bursting into life again………………

”Hello” said the apparition that was Wendy, “Do you have time for a chat?”