2004.’
‘It’s not my fault the high street could no longer keep up with the increasing ease of pay-to-view websites. Speaking of websites, yours is borked.’
‘Borked?’
‘Yeah, it’s like—a technical computer term for up the swanny. Now let me in or it’ll only get worse.’
‘OK,’ she relented. ‘I’m not—this has taken me by surprise.’ He looked puzzled. ‘I’m not dressed,’ she explained.
He looked her over. ‘You are dressed, i.e., you’re not naked.’ Helen stared at him. He stared back. ‘Computer… fixey? I’m sorry, you are employed by that dodgy South London geezer, yes?’
‘Yes.’ Helen snapped into action and held the door open. ‘I’m sorry. What do you need me to do?’
‘Show me the admin details. Who does the coding?’
‘The original design was before my time, but I do the basic maintenance and admin.’
‘You know code?’
‘Yes,’ she said defensively. ‘What, because I’m a woman?’
‘No, because you wear pyjamas with cartoons on. Actually that’s quite a coder-y thing to do, I should have realised.’ He sat down in one of her lovely vintage armchairs, making the old springs groan, and whipped out a laptop. It was square, functional and very un-sleek. Like him. ‘I’ll need your computer too.’
‘What? Why?’
‘Because, if you have malware or something, it’ll be on there. Malware is, how can I put this—totes bad software that will totes corrupt everything.’
‘I know what malware is!’ People really didn’t take you seriously when you wore Disney clothes as an adult, Helen reflected. She set him up with the details, then hovered anxiously in the kitchen as he worked.
‘Jesus Christ on a bike,’ he said at one point.
‘Not good?’
‘Let’s just say your defences are more lax than Dad’s Army. A child could get into this.’
‘Why would a child want to get into a dating website?’ she said, crossly.
‘Dating. Is that what you call it?’
‘Of course. It’s a place to meet new people.’
‘New married people.’
‘You think it’s any different from other sites? Half the people on Tinder are married—and so dumb they use their wedding photos as profile pictures. At least this way it’s more open, and you know what you’re getting.’ Helen swelled in righteous anger. ‘Anyway, it’s none of your business. If you don’t like it, don’t also work for it by fixing the site.’ He stared at her. Helen realised her dressing gown had fallen open in her ire, and hastily closed it. ‘Sorry,’ she muttered. What was she thinking, shouting at a total stranger?
‘Hey, I don’t mind either way,’ he said. ‘I was just curious. The personal details are secure, anyway. But someone’s been hacking you. Look, all the profile pictures—well, they’re not of faces any more, put it that way. Brings a whole new meaning to the term “dickhead”.’
Helen looked, then felt a slow blush move over her face. ‘Is that…easy to do?’
‘No. Do you know of any enemies the site might have?’
Helen thought of Logan and his cut-price empire. The media attention the site had attracted through a series of dubious PR activities. The time he went on This Morning and got into a fist-fight with Phil. ‘Um…any number, to be honest with you.’
‘Right. Well, I’ve fixed the bug that’s replacing the photos, so people can show off their ski holidays and trips to Machu Picchu again. But you need to beef up your security.’ He spun her laptop back to her. ‘By the way, you’ve got an email from someone called Marnie. Subject—amazeballs dating plan.’
‘Give me that.’ Blushing, Helen pushed the screen down. ‘Thanks for fixing it. But I should get dressed now. I mean, in clothes.’ Oh great, now she sounded like she was flirting. ‘It doesn’t inspire confidence, you know,’ she said, in a burst. ‘Your T-shirt. I mean, that’s your job, isn’t it? Fixing computers?’
He squinted down. ‘Oh. I didn’t realise that’s what I was wearing.’
‘Do you have another one that says “Have you tried turning it off and on again”?’
‘How did you know?’
‘Never mind.’
He stood up. ‘You didn’t tell me your name. Normally people tell me their names and offer me cups of tea and stuff.’
‘Sorry. You just took me by surprise.’
‘It’s OK. I don’t understand why people set so much store by drinking hot liquids. Anyway, I’m going to tell you my name, in case you get hacked again.’
‘Is that likely?’
‘Yep. I’ve fixed it now but whoever did it was good. The bug also found every instance of the word “snowboarding” and replaced it with “looking like a douche”.’ He let out a loud laugh. ‘“I really enjoy jetting off for a spot of looking like a douche.” Sorry, but your hacker is hilarious. I’d like to shake them by the hand.’
‘But—you’re sure this was done on purpose? It wasn’t a virus, or a server problem?’
He gave her a withering look. ‘A server problem wouldn’t replace all the pictures with ones of people’s penises. You were hacked.’
‘Oh my God, just like in Jurassic Park. Logan was right.’
‘You like Jurassic Park?’
‘Duh. I was born in 1982, of course I do.’
‘Right. I just thought, you know, the kittens.’ He waved a hand at her cushions, which were upholstered in a distinctly feline theme.
‘Kittens and dinosaurs are not mutually exclusive.’
‘Actually they are, because mammals weren’t really around until the Pleistocene.’
‘Probably one of the many reasons why opening Jurassic Park was such a bad idea.’
He gave her a long look. Helen held his gaze. He said, ‘You’re right, as it happens. You can’t get Jurassic Park back online without Dennis Nedry. Lucky for you, I am Dennis Nedry.’ He paused for a second. ‘Except, you know, not really gross and into industrial sabotage and stuff.’
‘Good to know.’
He fumbled in one of his many cargo pockets. ‘My card. Not a Blockbuster one this time.’
Karl Olsen, Computer Wizard. ‘Wizard, huh?’
‘Yes, I am the Gandalf of online security. They shall not pass. Well, there’s no need for you to tell me your name, but contact me if your hacker starts again.’ He chuckled. ‘“Looking like a douche”. That’s a funny guy.’
‘You assume it’s a guy.’
‘Yes, yes, hashtag–not all hackers, I know. But statistically it most likely is. Bye.’
Abruptly, Karl the computer wizard shouldered his rucksack and headed for the door.
‘Wait,’ she said suddenly. ‘Helen.’
‘Helen?’
‘Er… That’s my name. And I—Look, when I started this job, it was a normal dating site. It just didn’t take off, so he changed it without telling me. Always bank on the lowest end of the market, that’s Logan’s philosophy. I’ve