A Short Story
- rosie8998
- Sep 6
- 5 min read
I recently wrote a short story which was published in a Sunday magazine and I thought it would be nice to share it here too. It makes a quick bedtime read before you drop-off or something to entertain as you sip a warm drink. It shares some similar themes to those tackled in my new novel Bad Influence – and you might notice this scene, witnessed from a different angle, in the novel if you go on to read it. Enjoy....
Picture Perfect
It was an unseasonably cold and rainy April morning on West Wittering beach. With the hardened stoicism of a local who would walk whatever the weather, Leni was taking her regular early Sunday morning stroll. Dressed in stout walking boots, jeans and a faded anorak that had seen better years, she was following her usual route, one that took exactly 45 minutes, meaning she would be home in time for Desert Island Discs. Today, feeling a little more thoughtful than usual, something made her stop. From a safe distance beneath the peak of a grass-topped sand dune, Leni paused to watch with bemused interest an unusual sight: a team of people tending to a scantily-clad figure wearing an inappropriate dress for a morning this crisp, perched on top of the dune.
Unbeknownst to Leni – for what would a pushing 70-year-old woman who hadn’t bought a new lipstick in ten years, let alone opened an Instagram account, know? – the subject of their fussed attention was Mandy Sykes: influencer, YouTuber and one of the biggest things to have hit the Internet since Rihanna’s surprise baby bump. Following her bunion operation last year, Mandy’s right foot gained the highest ever number of likes of a foot on Instagram and spawned its own TikTok account, which swiftly paved the way to an eponymous range of bunion correctors to ‘Cheat feet into wearing the heels you deserve!’ Heels by Mandy Sykes, of course.
All of this was lost on Leni.
For Mandy, life was measured in perfectly curated content. She was well versed in spending her days roaming cities and coastlines, phone in hand, crafting glimpses of a life lived in hues of soft gold, designer clothes, beautiful people and effortless adventure. Today, she had an entourage in tow, on a mission to create images intended to look edgy, raw and uber-fashion, capturing her against the dramatic, rugged, distinctly British coastline. A craggy and beautiful landscape which Leni loved dearly and in this moment was feeling particularly protective over, because it was being so crudely blotted.
Leni considered how freezing this woman must be, in her skimpy dress, barefoot, looking out to sea, her pasted-on wistful expression. Except for her billowing hair, she could almost be a statue. Her white dress had become see-through, and was barely covering her bottom, her thighs fully on show.
Leni realised she was gawping, bewitched by the bizarre spectacle. She became aware of other onlookers stopping to give a double take to the surprising vision – like a modern version of a figure from aquatic mythology – as Mandy posed for the lens of an iPhone held aloft by a young man who looked as though he had walked straight out of a perfume advertisement.
Some passers-by seemed excited by the woman as their stares were swiftly followed by the elevation of a phone, followed by, she imagined, an upload to some social media site or other. This was a fuss like she had never witnessed before, and it wasn’t even 9 a.m. on such a soggy day. It had become startlingly apparent that this freezing-cold figure, in pursuit of the perfect social media moment, was not your average local.
After a few more minutes of holding various positions in biting winds, the woman, who had an American accent, snapped out of a pose and yelled: ‘Tell me you got it? I’m freezing my cellulite off over here!’ And abruptly turned to descend the sand dune close to where Leni was standing, staring in her direction. ‘These photos better be worth it,’ she muttered belligerently, to no one in particular, as she walked towards Leni. ‘I can’t feel my fat anymore. I suppose we can always tweak things in Photoshop later.’
Leni took a small step back to let the woman pass, yet as she did, she felt compelled to speak to her. This was not something Leni usually did on her early-morning beach walks, where she relished the solitude, broken only by the call of hungry seagulls and soft sounds of the rolling tide. But this was not a normal morning.
Unlike Mandy, Leni wasn’t waiting for the perfect light; she simply stood there, sinking into the damp sand, absorbing the moment in real time.
Mandy looked at her quizzically. ‘Do you want a photo?’ she asked, immediately assuming the woman knew who she was. Mandy had come to know that most people either ignored influencers at work, content with the final product rather than the awkward reality of it, or rudely requested a selfie, oblivious to the fact she might be freezing to death.
A brief pause and then Leni spoke: "You ever just let the morning be what it is?"
Mandy laughed, deflecting. "Not really my brand."
Leni wasn’t impressed. "That’s a shame."
Against her usual instincts, Mandy decided not to shoot back some sharp quip about how her millions of followers would beg to differ. Instead, the women, two entirely different species, just looked at one another.
Leni had been walking this beach for decades. She used to visit it with her husband, then alone when he passed two years ago to this very day. Now, she walked because she felt close to him, even in the most bitter winds. It had been a cold morning just like this on the day he died.
"You’re trying to bottle something that can’t be bottled," Leni said, noticing the goosebumps on Mandy’s tanned skin as an assistant slung a Dry Robe over her shoulders and tried to lead her away from the random woman.
"It’s my job," Mandy replied, but the words sounded flimsier than usual.
Leni smiled, not unkindly. "You could just… exist in it instead."
Leni tilted her head. "You don’t want this morning?"
Mandy paused. She hadn’t thought of it that way.
The rain had stopped now, and a glimmer of sunshine emerged from behind heavy clouds, casting a cold light onto the wet sand which stretched all the way out to the distant tide. Mandy followed Leni’s gaze and they both paused for a moment to admire how the beams of light created such a beautiful, dramatic effect over the sea.
Leni waved her a soft goodbye and continued her walk down the beach.
Something stuck with Mandy.
Later, when she reviewed her photos, Mandy noticed Leni in the corner of a frame – accidental, barely visible, a ghostly presence in her non-descript anorak at the edge of the photo.
Mandy instructed her team to post that photo but, for the first time, she asked them not to retouch the image in any way. She posted the picture as it was, captioned: A beautiful morning, admiring the view and making new connections.
My new novel, Bad Influence is out now and can be ordered here. There is a special £1 offer on the Kindle version for the month of September.
