When Imelda called I was somewhat surprised.
Partly, because she never rang me: if she ever contacted me it would be via my uncle, on rare occasions she'd send me a text message.
But I was mostly shocked because Imeda, my cousin, had been dead for three weeks.
I'd attended her funeral. I'd seen her coffin. I had given my condolences to her father and mother.
I had shed tears.
So, when I picked up the mobile and saw that the call was from Imelda's phone I had expected it to be her dad, my uncle, calling.
"Hey, Uncle," I said.
"It's me," the voice was crackling and full of static, but I instantly recognised Imelda's voice. For a moment I was stunned into silence.
"Are you still there, Bollocks?" My nickname, since I was ten: Imelda had thrown a baseball into my balls. She'd thought it funny that I couldn't speak for half an hour afterwards.
"Who is this?" I asked.
I knew about AI deepfakes. I assumed it was some sicko (though who I couldn't guess) pretending to be my dead cousin.
...