by Mark Ayre
"I'll never stop worrying about Aurora."
Abbie looked at Tony for the first time. Only for a second, then back to the ceiling.
"Yeah," she said. "I know."
She hoped that would be the end of it. Maybe Tony hoped the same, but something dragged the words from him. A deep need to talk he hadn't known he had.
"It's like a pit in my stomach. A deep, endless, churning pit, and it never goes away. Sometimes, when I'm alone, in the dark, I can curl up and take deep breaths. These deep, long breaths and the feeling dims. But not for long, and not by much. The rest of the time, it's just there, and I can feel it from my stomach to my throat. Like aggressive, poisonous butterflies tearing me apart." He stopped, his fists clenched by his sides. There were tears in his eyes. "That probably sounds stupid."
"It doesn't."
Abbie could say no more. She felt Tony's eyes on her—burning into her—but she wasn't going to look at him.
"You said you lost your sister too."
"I did," she said. "Long time ago."
"How long?"
"Does it matter?"
She had snapped. She hadn't meant to. Tony looked away. "I guess not."
He was hurting again. Thinking of Aurora and thinking of Blondie, melding the two events. Soon he would have nightmares in which he would raise his gun as Blondie approached; he would pull the trigger and watch Blondie’s face morph into the beautiful face of his sister. As the bullet travelled in slow motion towards her eye, Tony would scream and would still be screaming as he murdered Aurora and woke in a clammy sweat.
The human mind was predictable.
"Violet, my sister, died a little over ten years ago," said Abbie. "For months afterwards, I was consumed by grief. All these years later, I still think about her every day, and it still hurts every time I do. But it has got easier. I can live my life, mostly unhampered by the darkness in my past." She looked at Tony. "So that's the message. You will move on, but it will never stop hurting. I'm afraid that's the best I can do."
They distracted each other again, then Abbie collected her phone from the floor. Ben’s team was done. Someone would be driving past Tony’s house in—Abbie checked the time—eight minutes to collect the bin bag. Ben would be disappointed if this person was not met.
“I need to borrow some clothes,” said Abbie.
Tony disappeared. Returned with a few choice items from his sister Alex’s wardrobe. Abbie dressed and checked herself out in the mirror. Rolled her eyes.
“Never send a straight guy to pick clothes for a woman.”
“What?” said Tony.
“Well, if this skirt was twice as long, it would just about qualify as too short, and you do know tops are supposed to keep the breasts in? Feels like this one’s trying to evict mine. Also, you’re staring.”
She turned away from the mirror, and Tony looked down, flushing. Still barefoot, Abbie grabbed Alex’s heels from the floor and chucked them at Tony.
“No chance I’m wearing these. I need boots or trainers. Something I can run in. Slippers would be better than these.”
She rechecked the time. Three minutes. Went into the bathroom and collected the bin bag. Tony was waiting in the bedroom when she returned.
“Go on then. Find me some shoes and meet me downstairs. Then you can take me shopping.”
After ditching the bin bag through the window of a dark car to a man who would not reveal his face, Abbie and Tony headed into town. The sun was beginning to dip, tumbling towards the houses. Nightfall on day one of Abbie's latest mission was almost upon them.
Money being of little consequence and in no short supply, Abbie wasted no time purchasing two new outfits. After paying, she headed into the toilet, stuffing one outfit into her drawstring bag—with Alex’s getup—and dressing in the other. When she exited the bathroom, Tony shamelessly allowed his eyes to trace over her tight black trousers, snug white tee, and expensive fitted jacket.
"You still look hot," he said.
"What every girl wants to hear," Abbie muttered, but she was barely paying attention. The shopping centre was vast. They were at its centre, an enormous open circular area surrounded by shops and the toilets in which Abbie had just changed. Across the circle, past the escalators, A woman argued with a teenager outside an expensive shoe store.
"You're beautiful too," Tony was saying. His face flushing. "I think you're stunning; I just meant… what are you looking at?"
"Your sister," said Abbie, striding past Tony. "And that must be your nephew. Ollie, was it?"
"That's right. Poor kid."
"Having a mum like Angel must be hard."
"No, I mean because of Aurora. They grew up together; were like best friends, inseparable. Her death hit him even harder than anyone. Except for maybe Ana.”
Abbie could see that. As she crossed the shopping centre, it was impossible to tell the subject of Ollie and his mother's argument. Still, while Angel remained calm, her face holding that annoying grace and beauty Abbie had noted earlier, Ollie's expression was distorted and distraught. He looked to be on the verge of a complete breakdown.
When Abbie drew within earshot, she heard Angel say, "Darling, we cannot keep having this conversation. I told you we'll make him pay for your sister. We’ll get Jacob, I swear, so could you, just for today, please—"
"Everything okay here?" Abbie cut in, smiling at son and mum.
Like Abbie, Angel was proficient at hiding her feelings beneath a neutral expression. But she was unable to stop the shock touching her eyes at the sight of Abbie, if only for a second.
"What are you doing—"
"Alive?" Abbie cut through Angel's words. "Yes, sorry, I have that annoying habit of letting people down by living beyond what they consider to be my expiration date."
"That's sad," said Angel. "That you have repeatedly driven people to wish you ill."
"I think I've just been unlucky," said Abbie. "I mean, it's happened again. You'll not believe what Tony and I just faced."
“Given I sent two guys to teach you a lesson for hurting my sister, I'd hope I would believe."
"Okay, you will," said Abbie. "But I think these guys misunderstood your instructions. When you said "teach Abbie a lesson," I think they thought you meant kill me, rather than sit me down and explain why it was not okay to assault an attempted rapist."
Angel gave a demure grin and stepped forward, closing the gap to Abbie.
"Actually," she said. "I think you misunderstand. I didn't really tell the guys to teach you a lesson. I told them to cut up your pretty face so even your mother wouldn't recognise you."
"My mother actually doesn't recognise me. Early-onset dementia. It's tragic. I wish I'd told you earlier. I could have saved you whatever you spent on these guys."
Angel didn't respond right away. Her smile remained, but for the first time, it looked frozen, not quite right. To many, Angels' eyes would have looked the same as ever. Abbie could see the fire burning there. Here was someone who did not like being teased.
"You have your jokes," said Angel. "They'll make Tony laugh because he wants to screw you. As for me—"
"Angel, that's enough." Tony had moved next to Abbie, facing Angel. He was aiming to look and sound imposing. No chance. Angel was his sister, but she was thirteen years his senior, and the difference could have been forty. She seemed to tower over her little half brother.
"It's enough when I say it's enough," Angel said.
"Tony was with me today," said Abbie. "Your knife-wielding maniac friends came within an inch of gutting him before I shouted his name and made them think twice. You have no idea how close you came to losing a second sibling."
Angel looked from Abbie to Tony. There was no guilt in her eyes. Nor any emotion, now she seemed to have expunged the anger.
"I warned the boys their target might not be alone. Told them, if she was with a member of my family, they weren't to cause too much damage."
"Too much?" Tony questioned. "A light
beating would have been okay, then?"
"A light beating might have taught you not to chum up to family enemies. You know what this bitch did to Ariana?"
"From what I heard, Ana had it coming."
Angel closed her eyes, shook her head. "You and mum, you make me sick. Ariana was trying to avenge our precious Aurora. Even if she wasn't, family must always come first. You've no idea what lengths I'd go to to protect my own. I thought mum was the same, but it turns out I was wrong. I think you've both forgotten what family means. I hope Alexandria is not going the same way."
"Or what?" said Abbie. "You'll send someone to knock her around? Because I'm in trouble for assaulting Ariana, but it's perfectly acceptable for you to have your siblings attacked to teach them a lesson."
"I'll do whatever it takes to protect my family," Angel reiterated. "Sometimes, you have to be cruel to be kind."
Abbie didn't know what to say to that. This woman was a different breed to Alice, Alex and Tony. Different even to Ariana, whose actions seemed to be driven purely by rage and grief. For Angel, it was about power and status. She wasn’t angry at whoever had killed Aurora because they had murdered Aurora, but because they had acted against Angel’s family. An insult that could not go unpunished.
"What happened to my boys, by the way?" said Angel. "Ariana told me you were an incredible fighter, but I assumed you only took out her and her friends after taking them by surprise. It looks as though I underestimated you."
"People often do," said Abbie.
"Clearly," said Angel. "Well, what about my boys?"
Abbie might have left the question unanswered but could feel Tony shifting beside her. Given a few more seconds of silence, his guilt would give him away, even if he didn't speak.
As Angel twisted her head towards her brother, Abbie spoke up.
"You don't know who I am, but let me make this clear. I've dealt with more crooks, thugs, and murderers than your mother has sold guns, and let me tell you a couple of things the vast majority of them had in common. They thought they could get the better of me, and once I was done with them, they went on to hurt no one else. Which is to say, next time you need some muscle, don't expect Baldie and Blondie to pick up the phone."
Angel stared at Abbie, not breaking eye contact, as though drinking in everything she was saying. Eventually, she smiled and looked at Tony.
"It's hot when she talks all dangerous and threatening like that, hey little bro? It's no wonder you want to get between her legs." She looked back at Abbie. "Tell you what, I quite fancy you right now. Maybe next time, I won't send any muscle. I'll come after you myself.."
"Please do," said Abbie. "They'll never find your body."
The comment was quick, quiet, throwaway. Abbie expected Angel to laugh it off, and, indeed, the older woman was in the process of tipping back her head to laugh when her son, Ollie, lunged.
Abbie saw him coming. Started to raise her arms, but the move had taken her by surprise. The boy crashed into her, she tripped over her own feet, and they went to the ground.
Ollie was on top. With a roar, he thrashed and smacked and kicked and head-butted. The moves were wild. None of them particularly damaging, but they came fast. Allowed to continue, it wouldn't be long before he got a lucky hit and knocked Abbie unconscious.
Tony was shouting. Angel was stunned. All around them, people were stopping, gasping. Was that someone calling security?
Ollie's attacks kept coming. Abbie turned her head, took the blows and shifted her arm. Angel's hands landed on the boy. She took his shoulder and tried to pull. He turned to knock her away. When he came back, Abbie raised her elbow fast and smashed the boy's jaw.
With a cry, he flew off, rolling to the ground.
Immediately, he was twisting, rising, holding his mouth, tears streaming down his face. Angel was with him, crouching beside him, trying to hold him up. At the same time, Tony was with Abbie, pulling her to her feet.
When both Ollie and Abbie were standing, Abbie sighed, felt her head and neck for bruises, smoothed her clothes and pointed to them.
"These are new, and no chance these floors are clean. I'm not happy."
Now Angels' eyes were openly blazing. All composure was gone.
"You attacked my son."
"That cannot be how you read what happened there."
"You could have broken his jaw. Here, baby." Angel went to touch the boy's face, but Ollie jerked away and stepped forward with his finger out.
"You stupid bitch, you won't stop us. He killed Aurora, and I will—"
"Ollie, that's enough." Angel came to him. Put a hand around his mouth. He fought her off immediately, but she grabbed him again, pulling him to her. All around, people were watching. Angel directed her son's attention to the spectators and hissed in his face. "I said, enough."
"It's okay," said Abbie. “The boy’s upset, and who can blame him. After all, his auntie’s dead. Or is it his sister?”
Angel’s eyes blazed. “Excuse me?”
“That’s what you said to Ollie, isn’t it? You’ll get revenge on Louis for his sister. That’s what you’ve raised him on, isn’t it? Alice went to prison, and you took in Aurora, started to pretend she was your daughter, got Ollie to see her as a sister. Isn’t that it?”
“And what if it is?” said Angel. “I was the only mother that girl had most of her life.”
"Don't kid yourself," said Tony, anger flaring. "From what I remember, it was Ariana, Alex and me who looked out for Aurora. You were too busy with the business. Ollie loved Aurora. That I believe. But he’s the only child that meant anything to you."
This outburst shocked Angel. That much was plain to see. Abbie stepped forward.
“I know what you’ve got planned, so listen up. Consider Jacob and Kyle protected. If you try to kill an innocent child, I will stop you; in fact, there are no lengths to which I will not go to stop you."
Angel gave a sickly sweet smile. Turned to her brother.
"I hope one day you can once more prove your loyalty to your family," she said. “As for you—" she came towards Abbie until their faces were inches apart, her low voice precluding the spectators from overhearing. "Do you know what I'm going to do with you?"
"No," said Abbie. "And I'm finding this all very confusing. See, ever since you said you fancied me, I've had these conflicted feelings. I thought I was straight, but now, argh, I don't know. I had an internal crisis, then you come right up to me like this, and your lips are so plump and gorgeous, and I realised…" she held Angel's eye. "Even if I were gay, knowing what's in your heart, looking at you would still make me want to be violently ill."
A flinch of loathing crossed Angel's face. She flicked it off.
"Sticks and stones," she muttered. "And you'll have more than them to deal with soon. You attacked my sister, you attacked my son; now you're on borrowed time. So stay alert, and enjoy your last hours, because I can't see you living past tomorrow's end."
Abbie took a deep breath.
"I've changed my mind again. I'm so turned on right now."
"Keep joking," said Angel. "Time's almost up."
She spun and gripped her son by the shoulder. Dragged him away. As Tony came to Abbie's side, the spectators began to disperse.
"This is bad," muttered Tony.
"I know," said Abbie. "I was so sure she'd invite me to your mum's party as her plus one."
Nineteen
They arrived at Louis' place at ten PM to see Alice with her hand on the gate, beginning to push it open. When she saw them, she let the gate fall closed.
"What are you doing here?" she snapped. "Both of you."
"It's lovely to see you again, Alice," said Abbie, touching the older woman's arm. "I got you a birthday present while I was out today. It's a corker, but the catch is, you have to survive to the end of your birthday before I give it to you. I'm thinking one minute to midnight."
"Is this a joke?" said Alice. "Tony, take her away."
"It's not a
joke," said Abbie. "The present is real, isn't it, Tone? Still needs wrapping, mind. But hey—"
"Abbie, I'm armed," said Alice. "I advise you to stop talking before I give you a present of your own."
Abbie beamed. "Alice, I like you a lot. Oh, look, our hostess."
Alice frowned. "What are you talking about a hostess?" Turning, she watched as her daughter, Alex, opened the side door and stood bathed in the light of the perceived enemy's house."
"Huh," said Abbie, taking in Alex's mini skirt and low cut top, neither of which she’d been wearing earlier. "Guess I owe you an apology, Tone. Maybe choice was limited on the clothing front."
"What's going on?" Alice demanded.
"Why don't you all come in," Alex overrode. "Mum, I've already poured you a G&T. I think you're going to need it."
Louis' living room contained two gorgeous leather sofas, a three-seater and a two-seater, and a leather armchair. All of which appeared to be as comfortable as the armchair Abbie had earlier found difficult to trust upstairs. In the centre of these chairs, two of which had been moved from their regular positions to form a circle, was a long coffee table upon which sat numerous bottles of spirits and glasses. There were a couple of near-empty mixers on the floor and plenty more in the kitchen's fridge.
The master of the house stood by the armchair when Alex led in the guests. He held two drinks; one whiskey, one gin and tonic, presenting the latter to a suspicious and annoyed Alice.
"Your drink, Alice," he said. "And don't worry, Alex prepared it and made sure I didn't add any poison."
"You could have added some while Alex was letting us in," said Abbie, not because she thought he might have, but for the fun of it.
Louis glared at her. "I thought, after our earlier chat, we were good friends?”
"I think you misinterpreted the result of our chat."
"What chat?" said Alice. "What on Earth is going on? And stop holding that drink in my face; I'm not having anything until someone explains the meaning of all this.”
Louis smiled, retracted the drink, and took a gulp. "There, in case you were worried about poison. It's here for when you feel less in the dark."
