‘But how could you be sure the real Gareth Jones wouldn’t turn up?’ I say.
‘Why don’t you tell her, Maxen?’
I stare at Maxen, his Adam’s apple rising and falling so close to the blade as he swallows. ‘My father had a breakdown about a year after Ava’s death. He was obsessed with catching her killer – blamed himself that he never did. I tried to talk him into coming to Wales with me. But he took off God knows where, said he wanted to be alone.
‘When Willow contacted me saying my father was helping her, I was shocked he was back on the case. I came here as much to see him, as anything else. Hoping to set things right. I never dreamt it was Rory impersonating him.’
Rory laughs. ‘I enjoyed being Inspector Jones.’ He’s putting on a Welsh accent again. ‘I had to bring Willow here in the end. As I say, she was getting too close. But then you arrived with your daughter, asking the same fucking questions. I got a sense of déjà vu, as I gave you the same answers.’
‘But you reported her missing. I spoke to the police about it.’
‘Ah, yes, but I explained she’d done it so many times before, that we weren’t too worried. I just covered my back, in case you called them. And then Justin turned up here. Ranting that he’d had eighteen years in prison to work out who killed Ava, said he knew it was me. He had no proof, of course, especially as Ava isn’t actually dead.’ He laughed. ‘But I wasn’t about to take any chances. I couldn’t have him spreading gossip, snooping around.’
I know he’s agitated. His eyes flash, flicking around the room, landing on each of us in turn. He won’t hold out much longer before he loses it and slices the knife across Maxen’s throat, and then God knows what else he will do.
‘So you attacked Justin?’ I say, still attempting to keep him talking, hoping the police will be here soon.
He nods slowly. ‘I followed him back to his house in Cranberry Close, and cracked him over the head with a rock, if that’s what you mean.’ He’s spitting as he speaks. ‘I meant to kill him – but the coma will do for now. Spraying his garage door was a nice touch, don’t you think?’
I sense someone behind me. I turn to see Ava at the foot of the staircase, standing next to Peter, who is stirring and rubbing his head.
‘Was it you?’ I say, eyes back on Rory, ‘on the beach that night? Did you knock me out? Tell me to leave?’
‘I tried to scare you off several times, but no. What is it with you and Willow? It’s like you think you’re a couple of super sleuths.’
Ava steps forward, her eyes wide and on Rory. She touches my arm. ‘You should leave,’ she whispers into my ear. ‘While you still can.’
I look over at Willow, tears in my eyes. ‘This is all my fault,’ she cries, catching my eye. ‘I’m so sorry, Rose.’
‘I won’t leave without you and Becky,’ I cry. ‘I promise.’
Rory moves the knife from Maxen’s neck and plunges it into his shoulder. Maxen yells out in agony, as blood soaks his T-Shirt.
Heavy footsteps on the stairs startle me, and I turn. ‘Aaron,’ I cry on seeing him. ‘Thank God.’
Maxen seems to find strength from somewhere. He thumps his elbow backwards into Rory’s stomach, and Rory drops the knife, cries out, bending double. Within moments, Ava dashes over. She picks up the knife, and plunges it into Rory. A spray of blood covers her face – her polka-dot dress. She stares down at Rory writhing in agony – her silence is haunting.
The sound of sirens approaching snaps me from what feels like another dimension. I snatch a tea towel from the kitchen area, and hand it to Maxen who holds it against his shoulder, and slumps to the floor.
‘Call an ambulance,’ I yell at Aaron, as I race to Becky’s side.
I sit on the bed beside her. ‘Becky, Becky, please wake up,’ I cry, shaking her, sobbing now.
‘Mum,’ she murmurs, stirring. ‘Mum, I want to go home. Please take me home.’
Chapter 54
AVA
2001
Ava woke, shivering, shaking, feeling sand under her hands as she shuffled to a sitting position. She looked about her, eyes adjusting to the darkness. Any attempt to rub warmth into her arms was useless.
‘Gail,’ she cried, spotting her sister lying face down in the sand, and a sudden flash of memory invaded of her grabbing Gail’s hair, throwing her down onto the rocks.
She crawled across to her. ‘Oh my God, Gail,’ she cried, covering her mouth as she turned her sister over to see her battered face. ‘No, no, no.’ There was so much blood. Had she done this? ‘Wake up. Wake up, Gail. Everything is going to be OK,’ she screamed, shaking her. ‘Gail, oh my God, you’re so cold.’
With shaky fingers, she felt her sister’s neck, unable to find life under her fingertips. ‘Oh God,’ she continued, attempting to stroke the bloodied hair from her sister’s face, then leaning over and hugging her.
‘Hello, Ava.’ She turned to see Rory, the knife clenched in his hand. He stared at her for some moments, his eyes liquid black. Suddenly, he bent down in front of her with quick jerky movements, and stroked her cheek, before placing the blade against her neck.
‘Please, stop,’ she cried.
‘Shh,’ he said, putting his finger against her mouth. ‘I’ve heard you’ve been spreading rumours about me, Ava.’
Ava swiped away more tears with the heel of her hand and looked over at her sister – so still and lifeless.
Rory lowered the blade, and Ava attempted to crawl away. He laughed. Grabbed her leg. Pulled her back across the rocks like a sack coal. ‘You really think I’m going to let you go?’ he said. ‘After you killed my wife?’
He straddled her body, so heavy, and placed the knife at her throat once more. ‘I quite like you, Ava,’ he said, his eyes dark, as though nobody was behind them, and her heart pounded with fear. ‘It’s a shame I have to kill you.’
‘Please …’ she cried, words catching in her throat. ‘I won’t tell anyone.
And …’ She’d known for a few days. The feelings she’d had at seventeen were back – the nausea, the tenderness of her breasts. ‘I’m pregnant,’ she blurted. It was a gamble; she knew that, but if it had been Rory who raped her, she’d be carrying his child, and he might not kill her. ‘I’m carrying the child of the man who raped me.’
‘What?’ He lowered the knife, and stared into her eyes. She noticed a change in him, a spark of something. ‘You’re carrying my child?’ His lips quivered at the corners, as though they wanted to burst into a smile.
‘Yes,’ she said. He’d raped her. It had been Rory all along. ‘I’m carrying your child.’
He seemed dazed, as though he’d just climbed off a merry-go-round. He shuffled off her, and sat for some moments, knees raised, the knife dangling between his legs.
Ava attempted to sit, and he turned sharply, and in a calm, almost kindly voice he said, ‘Don’t worry, beautiful lady.’ He touched her cheek. ‘Everything’s going to be OK. I’m going to care for you and my child. I’m going to be a better father than mine ever was.’
‘We need to call an ambulance,’ she said, trying to match his calm voice, as she wrapped her arms around her knees, shivering – shaking. She could hardly believe he wasn’t going to kill her. That maybe she could save her sister.
‘Take off your dress,’ he said suddenly, diving to his feet, and bending down in front of Gail’s body.
‘What?’ A shard of fear stabbed.
He glared at her, a gust of wind whipping his hair. ‘Take your fucking dress off, Ava.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘Just. Fucking. Do it!’
With shaking hands, Ava unzipped the sodden dress and let it fall from her shoulders in a heap at her ankles. She stepped out of it and handed it to him, goose pimples rising on her arms. He smiled as she folded her arms around herself, shivering, her body aching from cold and fear. Tears streamed down her face as he removed the lacy, once beautiful wedding dress, now stained with blood and beach debris
, from Gail’s limp, useless body, and fumbled her limbs into the yellow bridesmaid’s dress.
Ava looked about her. Could she run? But she’d never get far. She was freezing and far too weak – he would catch her within moments.
‘Give me your necklace,’ he yelled, reaching out his hand.
‘No!’ she said, grabbing it with both hands. ‘Willow bought it for me.’
He rose, ripped it from neck, and laid it on Gail’s body.
Gail let out a groan. Or had Ava imagined it?
‘Oh God, Rory, she’s still alive. We have to call an ambulance. Now. Please.’
‘No!’
‘Please, Rory,’ Ava cried, dropping to her knees, as he crouched in front of Gail, and pulled the wedding ring from her finger.
‘If they think you’re dead, they’ll never search for you,’ he said. ‘You’re my wife now, Ava. The mother of my future child.’ He tossed the ring to her, and she instinctively caught it. ‘Put it on,’ he yelled. ‘Put it on!’
She pushed it onto her finger, too scared not to, and watched as he folded Gail’s wedding dress and laid it on a nearby rock.
He turned and touched Ava’s face. ‘You’re so cold, my darling,’ he said, and rose and raced towards his car.
Ava moved closer to her sister and grabbed her hand. ‘Wake up, Gail. Please.’
But Rory was back within moments with a blanket. He draped it around Ava’s shoulders. ‘We don’t want our unborn child suffering from the cold, now do we?’ he said, and then placed a folded piece of paper on top of the wedding dress.
‘Almost time to go home, Ava,’ he said, a glisten of sweat on his skin, despite the freezing air.
‘But she’s still alive,’ Ava cried. ‘We have to do something.’
He picked up the knife. ‘She never wanted to have my children. Just like my father. He never wanted children either,’ he said, his tone calm. And as Ava screamed so hard she thought her lungs would burst, he plunged the blade into Gail’s broken body.
Chapter 55
AVA
2001
Ava felt as though she was in another dimension. It was as if her mind had travelled to a safe place, and left her sad, useless body on the beach.
Was she dead?
No. No she wasn’t dead. Her heart was beating. She could hear it – thump, thump, thump.
And Gail? Is Gail OK?
‘You killed her, Ava. Remember? You killed your sister.’ The voice was low. Male. Rory?
He caressed her face. Stroked her hair.
It was so dark inside her head, but she couldn’t open her eyes.
Was she safe inside her own mind?
As she drifted, as though on a rowing boat in the middle of the ocean, she could hear classical music playing way above her head – somewhere in the clouds. Or was that in her mind too?
‘Willow!’ she cried out, panic rising at the thought of her daughter – but her mouth wasn’t moving. The words were inside, trapped, unable to break free. She tried harder, forcing them to leave her lips, ‘Willow, where are you?’
The light behind her eyelids went out. Everything went black. Her silent scream went unheard.
Chapter 56
AVA
2008
Ava had no idea how long she’d spent with Rory. It was impossible to gauge time. But she knew Isaac was six now. She knew that much, because her husband had bought a cake with six candles, and they both sang Happy Birthday to him. He still wasn’t speaking, and Ava was waiting patiently for the day he would. But Rory was teaching him sign language. Did he think he would never talk?
‘He’ll need to go to school soon,’ she’d said. ‘It will be good for him to mix with other children.’ But Rory said there was no need for that. ‘Isaac’s a bright boy. I’ll teach him all he needs to know.’
Ava had come to accept her strange existence – living in a room with no windows. It was almost perfect. And one day, Rory said, she would be able to live in the main part of the house, where he and Isaac lived, and she could cook for them, eat with him. But she had to understand she must never go outside. If she went outside, she would have to be punished. She didn’t like being punished.
She couldn’t remember much about before she came here. Sometimes memories floated in about a man called Peter, but they never stayed long. She remembered Willow though. She would never forget her darling girl.
‘She died,’ Rory had told her. ‘Don’t you remember?’
She couldn’t recall her darling girl dying, and every time Rory reminded her she would sob for days.
‘You must look after Isaac,’ he would say, crashing his fist into her body. ‘Willow has gone forever.’
Sometimes a flash of faces would appear in her mind – strangers, and yet somehow familiar. Her past was somewhere inside her head, but impossible to reach. Like she knew Isaac had grown inside her, and yet she had no idea how he got there. Rory said they’d made love. That’s how he’d got there. But the memory was buried so deep, she felt sure she would never remember.
He was a good husband, most of the time, but she hated it when he slept with her. He was rough – hurt her. But if she tried to stop him, he got angry, would hit her, and worse, hit Isaac.
Ava had decided a long time ago she would accept her fate.
Chapter 57
ROSE
Now
Officers escort Ava and Isaac to a waiting police car, and I see in Peter’s eyes the sadness of not being able to reach his sister, and I pray that one day he will.
‘Will they be OK?’ I ask a young PC. But despite his reassurances, this isn’t a textbook case, something he may have read about or seen before. He has no more idea than I have how this will affect them going forward.
Rory and Maxen left in ambulances a short while ago, sirens blaring. Rory, the paramedics told me, is in a critical condition, and Maxen has lost a lot of blood.
Willow wraps her arms around me, and as we hold each other she whispers again, ‘I knew you’d come, Rose. I knew you would never let me down.’
‘We should go,’ Aaron says as she releases me, closing the door on Floral Corner, and the five of us head into the night, my arm firmly round Becky.
We stop by the cars, and Peter reaches for Willow’s hand. ‘Hey there,’ he says, speaking to her for the first time. ‘I’m Peter.’
She takes his hand. ‘I know who you are,’ she says.
‘You’re so grown up,’ he says, as she lets go of his hand as quickly as she took it and drops her arm to her side. ‘I used to look after you when you were little.’
She shakes her head. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t remember.’
‘Well, you wouldn’t. You were so young when …’ His eyes tear over. ‘I can’t believe we’ve found Ava. Your real mum.’
‘My birth mum,’ she corrects.
‘Yes,’ he says. ‘I hope I’ll get to see you again.’
‘You will,’ she says, but she doesn’t raise a smile. None of us do. ‘You can count on it.’
He hunches his shoulders and walks through puddles towards his car.
‘Are you sure you don’t want to stay at the cottage tonight?’ I call after him.
‘No, you’re all right,’ he says. ‘I’ll book in at a bed and breakfast.’ He raises an arm in a weak wave.
‘And get your head checked out?’ I add, as he gets into his car.
Becky and I get into the back seat of Aaron’s car, and I wrap her in my arms. She’s still drowsy. As yet I don’t know if Rory drugged her when he took her – time will tell, but I’m here, right by her side.
Willow sits in the front. She’s silent now. In shock – as we all are.
‘Are you all buckled up?’ Aaron asks, before starting the engine. It’s as he pulls away a delayed text arrives on my phone. It’s from Aaron, and must have preceded my voicemail telling him where I was:
Just got here. Found the key under the rabbit. Where are you? X
We will stay at Ocean Vie
w Cottage tonight.
Tomorrow we will go home.
Chapter 58
YOU
You are still here inside my head. Will you ever leave? You are my addiction. However wrong you are for me, I’m still not sure I can walk away.
You said you loved me – that you’ve always loved me – and I cling to that. A lifeline.
‘Mr Jones,’ the nurse says, but I can’t open my eyes. I’m locked inside my head with you.
Do you recall telling me about your mum? How beautiful she was. An Italian princess, that’s what you said. She took you from Bostagel when you were four – do you remember? Ran away from your abusive father. He’d hit her, hadn’t he? That’s what you told me. Hit her so hard her bones snapped.
He tracked you both down in Italy. Took you back to Bostagel the day she died. A hit and run, they said. They never found the driver.
And then it started. The abuse. You cried that day. The day you told me everything. But I’ve never seen you cry since.
‘Mr Jones.’ The nurse. ‘It’s time for your medication.’
Am I as bad as you, Rory? I knew you raped Ava, and I saw you the night she died, when I not only ran, I lied for you.
I feel the touch of the nurse’s soft hands on my arm. Pain in my shoulder as I stir. You would have killed me; I have no doubt of that.
I open my eyes, but I’m not sure I can do this anymore.
Whether I’ll ever get over you.
Chapter 59
ROSE
Four Weeks Later
Eleanor hugs Willow close when we arrive at Darlington House, as she has each time she’s seen her over the last few weeks.
Traces of Her: An utterly gripping psychological thriller with a twist you'll never see coming Page 22
