He was arrested after being traced initially by his IP address and her body removed from his bed. Penny hadn’t got the release she wanted from Mr Wright. Her mother dying did that a month after she joined the agency.
When the story hit the papers Rachel found it hard to forgive her friends.
Derek chuckled at what might have been.
Ursula deleted her profile immediately and got two rescue dogs.
While the others sighed with relief Elena was the only one (except obviously the now imprisoned Mr Wright) that'd got what she wanted.
She wasn’t alive to know though.
He paged through each new profile as it popped onto his screen. He’d set an alert so he wouldn’t miss any. Needed to sate this hunger somehow, he was desperate to meet the right one.
He knew about browsing history. He knew he could be caught but he’d waited all his life to meet her. He imagined a young girl similarly dreaming of her fairy tale wedding.
He needed it perfect, he wanted to get it right first time. No hitches.
And clicked with trembling fingers on her profile to arrange to meet the woman of his dreams.
Penny spent 24 hours caring for her sick mother She hadn’t got a mobile and could only find school pictures of herself so had left the profile picture blank. She was struggling not mention caring or mother. It was difficult. She’d paused to weep three times. And once to take her Mum to the toilet.
She persevered. She continued because she knew her life was disappearing and she knew she needed something more. And deep down she knew she’d get it and laugh again like she was in that school photo (although she’d actually got told off for that).
Rebecca looked perfect. Her profile picture was more filtered than the hot tub she was sat in. Had the look of a girl that got plenty of selfie practice. She enjoyed pampering. Boxsets. Time abroad. Her favourite locations were hot and sandy.
She wanted to meet, as most did, someone with shared interests. (And unwritten, someone to check the oil in her fiat 500 and do what she felt were other ‘boy’ jobs) She liked manners. Felt there weren’t enough proper gentleman in the world anymore and really wanted to be looked after.
That said. She was apparently fiercely independent.
Elena, a diminutive blonde was a divorcee. Her marriage had been a sexless shambles and she was desperate to connect for want of a better way of putting it. ‘Not interested in rudeness’ echoed in her head as she completed her profile details but she was desperate to just write. ‘I NEED FUCKING’ as her answer to all the questions.
Her picture got more attention than any other at the agency. Her profile was visited more than any ever had before. Elena didn’t find a partner. But after three months she wasn’t around to claim her fees back.
Derek found it funny and well worth the fees. He never actively arranged to meet people but always turned up if a man asked his alter ego; this time a buxom lass from Burnley called Denise.
Her picture seemed familiar to a lot of visitors to her profile. He’d found it online so they’d probably seen it before. He changed the interests, name and photo depending on the site and spent a good proportion of his day in his Canary Wharf office, chatting to men from all around the world pretending to be female.
It had become almost an addiction.
Rachel’s profile had been secretly completed by her closest friends. He naturally didn’t know this when he started reading it. But the extra arm either side on her profile picture suggested it was taken from a group shot rather than a selfie.
She liked socialising. Had a GSOH. And really nothing made her standout from any of the others. He felt a twang of pity for her. Rachel was actually more than happy by herself. She had a good crowd of mates and liked nothing more than bed by herself with a grisly book at the end of the night.
Ursula ‘s profile picture was a dog. Closer inspection showed a hand was in it. From it he guessed she was in her thirties. He wavered, thought about moving on but continued.
Pictured dog had recently died.
It had left a huge hole in her life. She wanted someone to fill it. Was tired of the emptiness she’d been feeling. She hadn’t put her age and dead dog aside hadn’t mentioned any interests. He realised this wasn’t much to go on. But the thought of someone sad and lonely appealed. He felt perhaps she, like him, didn’t have many friends.
Mel was forty seven although she had the body of someone two decades her junior. She swam every morning. Religiously. On Sundays she ran up mountains, she liked rock climbing, marathons and relaxed at the gym.
She was recently first over the finish line at an Iron Man challenge (although it was less of a race more of an endurance test she competed at everything she did.) She wanted to meet someone that shared her interests, what was unwritten was she needed them to keep up and stretch her physically.
He ignored her profile and went on to the next.
The agency was for the more discerning client. That lured a lot in- not wanting to feel like cattle at a farmers market. That and the promise of refunded fees if after three months (with a fully completed profile) you hadn’t met a satisfactory partner.
There were rules. You had to be single. It wasn’t just a hook up site. And you had to respond to those that connected with you. ‘In the interest of politeness. We at SM- SingleMingle (what a brain storming session that had been) are not interested rudeness.’
Many clients did just hook up for rudeness.