It hadn’t been a good day for Pip “Purity” Tyler. First, the manager at her pointless job selling renewable solutions – she didn’t quite know what they were, but was too polite to ask – had told her she was not meeting her targets. Then she had got into yet another pointless argument with her reclusive mother, Anabel. Things went further downhill when she got home to find one of her housemates had unexpectedly left, and just as she was about to do the sex thing with Jason – she wasn’t keen, but couldn’t think of a reason to say no – another housemate, Annagret, had suggested she spend four hours filling in a form to apply for an internship with the world’s greatest internet hacker, Andreas Wolf.
Much to Pip’s surprise, Jason had buggered off home by the time she went back to her room. “I guess it’s just one of those kooky California days,” she said to herself, though a brighter person might just have noticed a pattern to this futility. She went online to check her emails. “It’s the Wolf here,” said one from the world’s greatest internet hacker. “It’s important you should know I am in no way related to Julian Assange as that would present immense legal problems for the publishers. Come and join me in Bolivia.”
* * *
Andreas Wolf reflected deeply on his problems. He wasn’t at all sure how he had become one of the world’s greatest internet hackers, because Jonathan understood the interweb as little as he did, so for now he reflected on his early years living under communist rule in East Berlin. He had enjoyed life as a bit of a dissident because his parents were important enough to prevent him being arrested, and he had enjoyed a lot of sex with young girls. He was proud of himself for drawing the line at sleeping with the underage Annagret, who had been abused by her stepfather, though he had some qualms about beating the abuser over the head with a shovel and killing him. “I suppose this makes me a Killer,” he had wondered for the best part of 30 years. Nothing escaped the Wolf.
* * *
Pip found herself wondering why Leila and Tom had bothered to hire her for their £20m investigative website in Denver, as she could barely look up her own name on Google. “You fancy Pip,” yelled Leila, who had just uncovered a not very interesting story about a missing imitation nuke. Tom had to privately admit to himself that he did, though his bigger worry was that Pip was the long-lost daughter he never knew he had. This was troublesome for him.
* * *
“You are a very brilliant hacker,” said Andreas. “Fly with me to Santa Cruz and let me fuck you.” Pip was quite tempted and let Andreas go down on her but at the last minute decided it wouldn’t be right for her to fuck him as he she loved him too much. Andreas settled for three quick wanks before suggesting Pip went up to Denver to spy on Tom. Only now did Pip realise she was in a book that didn’t adhere to a linear narrative. Ordinarily, she wouldn’t have minded, but now she just felt irritated as all the characters were too two-dimensional to be credible.
* * *
Tom had a long flashback to how he had once been married to Pip’s mother. It had been a tricky relationship as they both had deep commitment problems and Anabel had never quite known how to handle the fact she was a multimillionaire. So they had eventually split up. Put like that, it actually sounded more interesting than it was.
* * *
Back in Bolivia, Andreas was still trying to come to terms with his Killer within. He didn’t quite understand why Annagret had objected when he had fucked her in the ass after killing her stepfather. Surely she must have realised ass-fucking was now a prerequisite for any serious American novel. He also wondered why Tom had never been in contact with him since he helped move the body shortly after the fall of the Berlin Wall. Surely the fact that he had jerked off over the grave couldn’t have had anything to do with it?
“We meet again finally,” said Andreas. “You the most brilliant journalist in the world and me the most brilliant hacker.”
“It’s odd that,” said Tom, “as neither of us have ever given the slightest indication of possessing any talent for anything.”
“You’re right,” cried Andreas, throwing himself off a cliff.
* * *
“I hope you’re not going to read the document about me that Andreas sent you,” said Tom.
“God no,” replied Pip. “It’s far too long, and I’m bored enough as it is. All I want you to do is meet my mum once more. She’s still a bit of a recluse, but she’s handed over enough cash to keep me comfortable.”
* * *
“It’s all your fault,” yelled Tom.
“No, it’s all yours,” Anabel shouted.
Jason, who had miraculously reappeared, took Pip’s hand. “Shouldn’t you be a bit angry about all this?” he asked.
“Well, I am certainly pissed off about investing so much time in such a long book that didn’t really have much to say, and whose characters were never properly developed,” said Pip. “But my prime emotion is relief that it’s over. I never should have had such great expectations.”
Digested read, digested: Low Expectations.
