Your Guilty Secret

by Rebecca Thornton

  A true mother-daughter moment that was totally natural. How it would show Joan that I was a good mother. She would be able to tell, after all, that it hadn’t been a set-up shot.

  ‘Quick then,’ I shooed her out. ‘Go downstairs and I’ll be with you soon.’

  She scampered out of the room. I moved the smoothie and the coffee onto the end of my bed and took a few photos. I toyed with uploading them.

  #Guesstheingredients, I was going to write. The more I thought about it, the stronger the pull. I swiped my camera onto the screen and positioned the lens in the right place, setting the correct filters, but then I told myself no. If I was going to make this work, get Ava back to her old self, I needed to concentrate on her and her alone, so I put my phone on the chest of drawers, and got dressed.

  ‘I’m ready,’ I shouted down a little while later. ‘Come on, it’s nine forty now. Let’s get the car. Rosa? Marcy? We’re off.’ My mind pulled back to Ava – she said she was hungry. She must have grabbed something to eat, but before I could ask her, Marcy shouted up at me, interrupting my train of thought.

  ‘Oh, there’s water. I left it by the front door,’ Marcy said.

  ‘Thank you. Ava, hurry up.’ I was keen to get on now. The paps usually roamed the area near the ice-cream parlour in the early afternoon. If we left soon, we’d have a chance of finishing our walk and being there whilst they were still hanging about. I told myself not to think like that, but just in case, I pulled out a lip gloss which I kept in the top drawer of the sideboard cabinet in the hallway and slipped it in my pocket. Just in case, I told myself.

  ‘I’m here, Mom.’ Ava presented herself at the bottom of the grand staircase. She looked lovely. She’d changed into a navy cotton dress and silver shoes. Her outfit complemented my clothes: too-white running pants and Nike trainers paired with a workout top that I thought would absorb any sweat. Relaxed enough that should the paps see me, they’d know I hadn’t dressed up just for them, but flattering enough that it showed off my figure beautifully.

  ‘You look great, darling.’ I pulled out my phone again but stopped myself. ‘Come on. Let’s go. Don’t forget the water. It’s meant to be over one hundred degrees today. You take one, I’ll take the other.’ She picked them up and handed one to me with a smile. A real, Ava smile.

  ‘Lovely,’ I said out loud and took her hand.

  This was more like it, I thought.

  August 27th 2018

  0210hrs

  ‘He has, well, he had someone.’ I stared first at Detective Mcgraw and then at Anna. ‘A friend. That he liked to see.’

  ‘What kind of friend?’ Detective Mcgraw sat down at the kitchen table, like he was about to get stuck into a bottle of beer and a chat. He draped his arm over the back of his chair, swung his left leg across his right one and jacked up the volume dial on his recording device.

  ‘A friend. She, well, she and him.’ I was still standing. I buried my head in my hands for a second and then looked up at Conor.

  Go on, he mouthed. You’re doing great. Concentrate, I told myself but then this whole thing with Ava – her disappearance – had traumatised me so deeply it seemed to have triggered the memories of every bad thing I’d done.

  ‘Lara?’ Detective Mcgraw said. ‘Are you OK? You were telling me about Matthew? That he was seeing someone?’

  ‘Yes,’ I told him. ‘It’s just that, it’s a little sensitive. Upsetting to me. That’s all. He’s been seeing someone. Has been for a while. Just for . . .’ I glanced over at Anna.

  ‘Look. It was an arrangement that he would get his’ – I wrung my hands together – ‘his satisfaction elsewhere. What I couldn’t give him. He needs a lot. And I don’t. You must be laughing at me now.’ I flushed and looked down, remembering how Matthew had brought up the subject when I’d told him I was too exhausted to be physical with him. In truth, ever since Conor and I had chatted about stepping my career up a notch, I hadn’t wanted any contact with anyone really. It felt like I was giving my all to my career and I didn’t have time for anyone, or anything else, apart from Ava.

  ‘I do love you, Lara. But I’m a man.’ He’d prodded me in the ribs. ‘With needs.’ We’d both laughed but I knew there were serious undertones and that was when I’d come up with the idea. It had been brilliant, because in a way, despite him not being faithful, at least I was in control of knowing that he was cheating. No nasty surprises. Nothing. That in itself had made me feel better. Off the hook where bedroom antics were concerned and there was no way the press would find out anything before I did. He hadn’t been keen at first, until he knew I was a hundred per cent serious. ‘What if they find out?’ he’d asked. ‘Ava, or Joan?’

  ‘Look,’ I replied. ‘They won’t. And if they do. Well, we’ll cross that bridge.’

  ‘So you had this agreement going. Was it Jenna?’ Detective Mcgraw looked at his dictaphone.

  ‘A friend of Jenna’s. I don’t want Jenna getting involved. She had nothing to do with it, really.’

  ‘She just facilitated things? At her house? This was all quite carefully executed, wasn’t it? I mean to say, you’re quite on top of things, aren’t you?’ I didn’t reply. ‘And then you argued about it the morning of Ava’s disappearance? You said you didn’t mind. You’d given him permission under your own admission. Then why did you argue?’

  ‘Careless.’ I looked at Conor. He knew everything. Had been on it from the beginning and had plans drawn up in case anyone should find out. But I’d trusted Matthew to be discreet. ‘He was getting careless. I got cross. Said that people were going to find out and humiliate me. In our line of work, well, I wasn’t happy.’

  ‘And am I right in thinking, Ms King, that Matthew was busy with someone in the swimming pool, the day of the announcement? Was that what prompted the row in the car?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ I was getting all tied up in knots. I couldn’t remember what I’d told Detective Mcgraw about the swimming pool already, except that I hadn’t seen anything or been near the annexe for over a year. No one had even confirmed that it had been Matthew in there.

  Take a moment, I told myself.

  ‘You knew what Matthew was up to in the swimming pool. You saw him? So what was it?’

  ‘I didn’t.’

  ‘Ava saw him, didn’t she? Was he with another one of his women then? Was that what he was up to? Was that what he didn’t want anyone to see?’

  ‘No,’ I screamed, thinking of what had really been going on in the pool and what would happen if Detective Mcgraw ever found out the truth. How it wouldn’t just be some salacious gossip for the press, but something much, much darker. ‘Stop it. I don’t know.’ I worried that there was CCTV evidence of what had gone on in the annexe being analysed. That Detective Mcgraw knew everything already and I’d be caught out. I decided to call his bluff.

  ‘No,’ I said again more firmly. ‘No. I have no idea what happened in the swimming pool.’ Again, I thought of the fob and where it could have got to.

  ‘Stop.’ Anna stood up and took the sheaf of papers from the table. ‘Enough questioning my client like this. This conversation ends now.’

  ‘I haven’t finished yet.’ Detective Mcgraw stood up. ‘I know you know more than you are letting on. It’s late, we all need some rest but I’ll be back first thing in the morning, to finish this. As I said earlier, we need to organise that press conference too. Get the public focus back. This is turning into a fucking circus with everyone trying to sell their story and all of this stuff being leaked everywhere.’

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing and how much he’d changed in his tone of questioning.

  ‘And Matthew,’ he said. ‘Don’t expect Matthew back tonight. OK?’

  I said nothing. By the time I got upstairs, I was too wired to think about sleep, too fearful to even shut my eyes. I waited until I could hear no more sounds in the house, and then I took the bird I’d found in Ava’s room from under my pillow, desperately hoping I might find
the fob in there. I shook it around. There was definitely something quite heavy inside. I tried various different codes but each one drew a blank.

  So I ran downstairs to the utility room and grabbed the tool box, looking around in case Joan, Conor or Anna found me but all the lights had been switched off apart from in the hallway.

  I took the toolbox to my bedroom and pulled out the screwdriver, prising open the plastic seams of the toy. By the time I’d managed to get it apart, I’d given up hope. There was no fob hidden inside. Instead, I opened a small note, in which I recognised Ava’s handwriting, and an old ring that I’d had from England. The ring was inlaid with small rubies and sapphires. How strange, I thought, that she had it. It wasn’t like her to steal. But then I remembered a story I’d told her about how I’d worn it when I’d met her daddy. It was when she’d been particularly curious about his identity. I slid it on my finger and squeezed my hand tight. I looked at the note, sobbing at the sight of her small, neat handwriting, with the looped letters. Ava King, it read. Paternitey unknown. How cute, I thought. She must have heard me use that expression before.

  I felt bad I’d pried into her private life. I put it back. I’d buy her a new bird and replace it all. But then I’d turned the piece of paper around and saw in tiny pencil writing in the corner, a small picture of a family of three. My heart melted. How sweet, I thought, but when I looked closer, I saw she’d written something underneath. I read the words over and over, my heart feeling like it was about to escape from within me. At that moment, I ripped the note up into tiny shreds, crumpled it in my hands, and with her words going round and round in my head, I went to lie down.

  England, July 2004

  ‘OK,’ I said to Kaycee, ‘we’re going to get you home. Back to your daughter. OK? We’ll be in a warm car soon.’ I felt a prickle of fear because we were all alone until I heard a cough, as though someone was trying to get my attention. I looked around and then I saw her.

  The peroxide-haired girl, from the bathroom.

  She was standing at the top of a large flight of metal steps, which must have been the fire escape to the top floor of the club. She was hunched over, a biker jacket slung over her shoulders. She was licking a Rizla paper held in one hand, phone in the other. I looked around. There was still no one in sight and then I remembered the club manager’s words. That all sorts go on in the nightclub and I presumed this meant out the back too. Kaycee put her arm around me and it was at that point that my neck felt wrong. All naked as the cold air hit my skin. I looked down and realised what had happened.

  The diamond necklace.

  It was gone. The diamond necklace that had been loaned to me with strict rules attached, because it was probably worth close to a million pounds.

  My breath started coming in shallow waves. Fuck, I thought, grabbing at my top. Fuck. Fuck. I’d have to pay it all back. I didn’t have the money. How could I have been so fucking stupid. Lavelli’s had told me to take security with me if I went out. Or I was to leave it in the hotel. Then I realised that they would have seen me wearing it earlier in pap shots anyway so I was going to get done for however I played it. My mind was all over the place. What the fuck was I thinking? I wasn’t. I squeezed the flesh between my thumb and forefinger whilst I worked out what to do.

  I frisked both arms in case it had slid down my sleeves but it wasn’t there and then I remembered the girl, eyes black as she pawed at the necklace.

  Don’t react, I told myself. I’ll think of something. I always do. I’d tell Ben. Ask his advice. Or Joanne. But it was too late and my body started to move before my mind caught up with it and before I knew it, before I could even process that I was about to do such a horrendous thing, I’d climbed the stairs and was right next to peroxide-haired bitch. I could smell body odour mixed with peppermint. A fresh spritz of fruity perfume. I almost gagged.

  ‘Give me my necklace back,’ I hissed, my breath catching. I grabbed at her bag, tipping out the contents but it wasn’t in there.

  ‘Stop,’ she shouted. ‘Stop. What are you talking about?’ She was looking around, her eyes settling on Kaycee. ‘What the fuck are you talking about?’

  ‘My diamond necklace. You stole it.’

  ‘I didn’t.’ She looked scared, peering around in the dark.

  ‘Hurry up.’ I could hear Kaycee. ‘Ben’s coming soon. Hurry up.’

  ‘Give me the recording then. Where’s your mobile?’

  ‘No.’ She lit the cigarette she’d been rolling. Her top lip curved into a half-smile. ‘That you are not getting.’

  ‘Lara,’ Kaycee pleaded. ‘Please.’ I thought I heard her retch.

  ‘I’m coming,’ I shouted over my shoulder, and before I knew it, my body reacted to the situation. I felt my hands connect with the girl’s chest. And then the thump of her body as she tumbled down the metal steps. Fuck, I thought, bringing my hands up to the weak light. How could I have done that? I thought. How could I? Was I going mad? Was my mind telling me to do things that I could no longer control?

  ‘Oh God,’ I whispered, shaking. But by then I’d run back down the stairs to Kaycee, who was staring me, her whole body trembling.

  No one saw, I told myself. No one saw. Except Kaycee. She was sobbing now, clawing at her face. ‘Oh my God,’ she cried. ‘What did you just do?’

  ‘Forget it,’ I told her. ‘She . . . Just forget what you saw.’ It absolutely wasn’t a big deal, was it now? I’d seen worse. I rubbed my hands together and told Kaycee to stand up properly but she kept looking over to the corner of the courtyard, piled high with rubbish.

  ‘Stop,’ I told her. ‘It’s fine, for God’s sake. She’s just drunk.’ I heard the vibrations of a taxi’s engine, swinging into earshot.

  Kaycee let out a cry.

  ‘Come on, guys,’ Ben sang as the taxi appeared at the end of the alley. ‘Jump in. Quick. Before anyone sees you. It’s your birthday now by the way,’ he said to me, waving his hands out the window, the slur of his voice loud and loose.

  ‘Happy birthday to me,’ I sang, shivering as I pulled Kaycee towards the car. She was crying still, black smudges of kohl streaking her cheeks, her head still turned to the corner of the courtyard. It’s fine, I thought. I was still rubbing at my arm, thinking about the necklace and then I felt woozy, as though the dental medicine and alcohol had caught up with me all at once.

  ‘Oh, babe,’ Ben said, ‘it’s OK. Jeez, you’re only drunk. It’s not like Isabella’s going to remember this.’ He turned to the taxi driver. ‘Walthamstow, please. Radbourne Crescent. And as for you, missy.’ He poked me in the ribs. ‘Don’t you start.’

  Kaycee kept looking at me, pulling at her hair.

  I remembered again the video footage that was on that bitch’s camera but by that point, I was so tired. The warmth of the car wrapped around me and I leaned into Ben’s arm. The necklace. The girl. The recording. It could wait. I’d sort it out in the morning. But when I did shut my eyes, I could hear the thump of my heart, fierce and strong. I didn’t know how I was ever going to rid myself of the guilt leeching into my bones.

  Ryans-world.com

  Entry: August 27th, 0445hrs

  Author: Ryan

  So I know you guys are going to accuse me of clickbait here. That the links to this blog said I had the biggest scoop of the century?

  Well, I really wasn’t lying. So, guys, this is the big one. The big scoop! And I know, I know, we have to still be really mindful that there is a small child missing, but as each minute passes, it just seems that more and more about Ava’s disappearance is not right, or that things are unfolding that shouldn’t be.

  Lara and Matthew have a lot of secrets they’re hiding. This one for a start . . . now I know you’ve all been waiting for this announcement and that I told you I had something huge. So you ready?

  But firstly, props go to the amazing Manny Berkowitz, who is on a roll and was the one who worked and worked to get this story. He’s an all-round genius.

&nb
sp; So you know that there’s been speculation about Ava’s father for, well, years really. That TMZ did those funny sliders where you compared Ava’s face with likely candidates? Well, they seemed to have missed one person off and when I tell you who it is, y’all going to say . . .

  OH MY GOD.

  Ready? Her dad is none other than the Hollywood film producer Frankie Spearman. I can hear you collectively go silent. Go on then, let that tick over your brains. Wind the cogs. Do you see it? Do you?

  Boom. There it goes. The lightbulb.

  OH MY GOD, HE IS SO HER FATHER.

  YEAH?

  Got it now?

  Frankie Spearman – I bet everyone’s feverishly rooting around for his name online. Looking up his credits. And bam again there it is. His main credit.

  Yup. You guessed it.

  Lara and Ava’s TV show.

  Right. So, let’s continue with this.

  The headlines are as follows and I’ve summarised the piece below which I got early dibs on, thanks to my contact at the LA Times.

  Please find the full article here and once again, hand claps to Manny Berkowitz.

  PRODUCER AND DIRECTOR WHO CAST LARA KING IN HER REALITY SERIES DEVASTATED TO HEAR OF DAUGHTER’S DISAPPEARANCE VOWED TO HELP FIND HIS CHILD

  Despite the film producer’s insistence that he is ‘distraught’ the LA Times can reveal that he has shunned all meetings with his daughter since her birth. (Asshole – Ed.)

  His name also does not appear on her birth certificate but the LA Times can reveal that a number of cheques have been deposited in Lara King’s account, with the name of Frankie’s company. (Yikes. I’m guessing someone’s going to get in a whole heap of trouble from Frankie.) The amounts do not match the ten-million-dollar pay cheque that King received for the six-series show that she broadcast with her daughter Ava and the LA Times has seen email exchanges between Frankie, Lara and their legal teams, discussing the nature of their relationship.