by Mark Ayre
"That's no problem. I gave you my number for a reason. I'm here to talk whenever you want. You don't have to suffer alone."
"I shouldn't," said Jacob, his voice trembling. "I've never had many friends, nor anyone I could trust other than dad, but he's not the sort of person I could talk to about this. But I did have someone I could say anything to. Someone I…"
His sentence snapped, and he could no longer hold back the tears. His hands trembled. Abbie wanted to go to him but wasn't sure how the movement would be received. Besides, she'd probably trip on a pair of boxers and smash her face on the bed frame. She stayed where she was.
"Aurora?" she said.
There was a moment of shock, then Jacob nodded. His father must have told Abbie about his relationship. Or Alex. It didn't matter. Jacob was glad Abbie knew.
"She was the love of my life."
Abbie nodded. She didn't think now was an appropriate time to get into a discussion about whether a sixteen-year-old, from the prism of his first relationship, could truly understand love. Abbie was sure his feelings were powerful, amplified by the tail end of puberty. It was the kind of relationship that almost certainly would have burned out. There would have been heartbreak, but the couple would have gone their separate ways. All would have been well. They would have moved on, started again.
If the Ariana cave incident had shackled Jacob's ankles, Aurora's death was a suit of weights. How could one move on from adolescent love when the subject of that love died rather than walked or drifted away? Aurora's untimely demise ensured Jacob would be trapped with the impression of love in his heart for a long time to come, unable to move on. That was a heartbreaking thought.
"I know it hurts," said Abbie. She was thinking of Violet. Had Abbie ever experienced romantic love? She was almost sure she had not. That meant she'd never been hurt by love, but what was it they said? It’s better to have loved and lost...
"She was my world," said Jacob. "We were in love, and now she's gone. I don't know what to do."
"There's nothing you can do," said Abbie. "Unfortunately, and I hate throwing out this saying, you have to take it one day at a time. It will get easier. Not quickly, but I promise it will."
"It won't get easier," said Jacob. "Not until I can make the person who's responsible pay."
There was fierce determination in Jacob's eyes. The teen's hatred for this responsible party was not like Tony's, who demanded justice for Aurora's killer. This hatred was focused, specific.
"Jacob," Abbie said. "Do you know who killed Aurora?"
Jacob shook his head. Anger was consuming him. "I wish I did. I'd find them and rip them apart. I'd destroy them. I'd take out all their—"
"Okay, I get the point,' said Abbie. "You don't know who the killer is, but you know who was responsible?"
Abbie had resisted throwing the word think in there.
"I know who’s to blame,” Jacob said. "Aurora's so-called best friend."
It took a second to click for Abbie. "Do you mean…"
"I mean her nephew,” said Jacob. "Aurora's dead because of Ollie."
Twenty
Abbie made her way downstairs and listened at the living room door. She could hear talking, soft, not argumentative. Maybe Louis had killed Alex and Tony and tied Alice up. Right now, he could be explaining to her in calm tones how he relished destroying her life and murdering three of her children before finally putting a bullet in her brain—all for what happened to Niall.
This all felt unlikely, but Abbie still felt a touch of nerves as she turned the handle and stepped into the living room. After all, she was unarmed.
Eyes turned as she entered. Tony and Alice still sat side by side on the longest sofa. Across from them, Alex had sat up since Abbie left. Louis had crossed from the armchair to sit beside her. She had her hand in his lap, and he was holding it. With needy, pleading eyes, they were looking at Alice, waiting for approval.
"You knew about this?" Alice said to Abbie, gesturing across the room.
"Yes," said Abbie. "And it's horrible, but I don't think it's our place to start commenting on other people's choice of wall paint. Maybe when Louis and Alex get married, but for now—"
"I feel this is becoming a catchphrase," Alice cut in, "but now isn’t the time for your jokes."
"Why do people always say that?" said Abbie. "In my experience, it's never true." She entered the room, took the armchair. “Damnit, this is a comfortable chair. What am I supposed to think about a man who can't choose wall paint to save his life but manages to find numerous chairs that are, let's face it, almost ludicrously comfortable? When you die, your boys won't fight over your financial assets; it'll all come down to who gets the chairs."
Abbie looked around for support. From the eyes that met hers, she knew exactly what they were thinking.
"Not time for my jokes? Okay, yes, I've known about Alex and Louis since this morning, but I didn't see you between finding out and now, so I can't be expected to have—"
"What do you think about it?" Alice cut in. "I'm not happy about my daughter dating a criminal."
"Hypocrite," said Alex. It was hard to disagree. Alice waved the comment away.
"I've been married three times," said Alice. “First to a mobster, then to a lawyer who specialised in keeping crooks out of jail, and finally to an arms dealer worth hundreds of millions of pounds. I have married the full spectrum of crooks. I've been involved with crime since I was a teenager, so guess what? I'm a hypocrite. But tell me, Louis, would you be happy for your sons to become involved in everything you do?"
Louis didn't answer; he looked at Alex's hand, folded in his own, in his lap.
"That's what I thought," said Alice. “I involved Adam and Angel in my business from when they were kids, but I kept my younger children insulated from that side of things. Besides, I’ve quit. Given up my crooked ways cold turkey. Alex, I know you kids think you want to be like me because I'm rich, and I've spoiled you. But you don't know everything I've suffered, everything I've done—even Angel and Adam don’t. I want something better for my children. Not financially; you'll always be well off but in terms of your soul. Also, he's a fair bit older than you, didn't you notice?"
This final addition to what had otherwise been an impassioned speech took everyone by surprise. Abbie recovered first.
"A fair bit uglier too," said Abbie. "No offence, Louis. Alice asked for my opinion."
Louis glared but didn't respond.
Alex said, "Louis is just over ten years older than me. How much older than you was dad? What about your first husband?"
"And we return to my earlier statement," said Alice. "I'm a parent, parents are allowed to be hypocrites, but if you want to go down that road, I will point out that the older men I married didn't lumber me with teenage boys. Are you ready to be a mum?"
"She won't have to be," Louis interjected. "My boys have a mum, though I must say, Alex has already formed a strong bond with my Kyle and is getting there with Jacob. It's one of the things I like most about her."
"See," said Alice. "What he likes most is that you're good at looking after his kids. That's what you'll be doing while he's off having affairs."
"Okay, that's enough," said Louis. "My sons are my most precious possessions. It’s only natural that I should value in the woman I love that she’s good with them. Are you going to tell me that when you married Morris, it was of no concern how he felt about the four children you had in tow?"
In response to this, Alice said, "Love?"
Louis’ eyes widened a little. His cheeks flushed, and he cleared his throat.
"Yes. Of course, I..." Louis stopped, turned from Alice to Alex. "Darling, I love you. I know this is an awkward time to say it, but it's true. I love you."
Alex's eyes welled with tears. "I love you too, baby. It’s not awkward. I love you. I love you.”
Abbie said, “I’m finding it quite awkward, actually. Anyone else?”
"Good," said Louis. "Yes, good. And,
actually... Hang on."
Clearing his throat again, he took his whiskey from the table and finished it. Still holding Alex's hand, he turned to Alice.
"What happened with my brother and then Aurora got me thinking, but it was Alex who made me sure this was the right decision." Looking at the table, he appeared to be glancing into his glass as though hoping it had magically refilled. It hadn't.
"I'm going legit," he said, blurting it out as though confessing to an affair. Alex gasped. "Yes. Alice, I'm blown away by your bravery in closing everything down at the click of your fingers. I can't do that. I'll have to act in stages, but that's my intention. By the end of the year, I want every penny I make to come from legal avenues. I want to leave something behind for my boys, and I want it to be something of which they can be proud and that they don’t have to hide from the police. So, yes, that's it. Decision made. I love your daughter, and I’m going legit."
"And I should trust your word on that, should I?" said Alice.
"The word of the man I love?" said Alex. "Yes, I think you should."
Alice looked at her daughter. Sighed. "Why was I cursed with such strong-willed, belligerent children? All of you, from when you were old enough to talk and walk, you were desperate to talk back and walk away at every opportunity. Except you, Tony," Alice said, pinching his cheek. "You were always too afraid to misbehave."
"Thanks, mum," said Tony, closing his eyes in embarrassment.
"This isn't about me getting my own way for the sake of it," said Alex. "This is about love. I won't let you ruin what me and Louis have."
"Louis and I," said Abbie as Alice said, "It's Louis and I, darling."
Alice looked at Abbie, chuckled, then returned to her daughter. She wanted to keep fighting, but love is a powerful enemy, even perceived love. Alice feared driving Alex away, so she switched back to Louis instead.
"You say you're ready to pull out of the criminal side of your business. Over time, whatever, that's fine. What about my guns? You fought for those, then did something I would never have expected. Tried to rob me. Me. That's not the Louis I knew. What was that about?”
Louis looked down at his and Alex's hands again. He cleared his throat, and Abbie remembered he had told her earlier he needed to talk to Alice about this very subject. Nerves shot through Abbie. She remembered why she was here and wondered if they were approaching another danger point for Alice.
"You have to remember," said Louis, "I didn't meet Alex until after Aurora died. Before that, when you came out of prison and announced you were quitting, I saw only the chance to expand my empire. Getting into arms dealing is near impossible when your enterprise is the size of mine, but I saw an opportunity. Not only did I think I could get your guns on the cheap, but I knew there were people out there who had contracts waiting to be fulfilled that you'd let down. They would be shopping around, but if they had plans, if they needed to get moving… well, I thought they might not look so unfavourably as usual on a newcomer. So, I struck a deal."
Alice had remained very still, very calm, as Tony spoke. When he finished, she forced herself to pick up her drink and finish it. Abbie didn't know if it was her first, second, or tenth. Alice replaced the glass and met Louis' eye.
"A deal," she said, "that you were so afraid not to fulfil, you put your brother in danger trying to rob me rather than reneging. Is that right?"
Louis didn't speak. He couldn't speak. His eyes dropped again; Alex was staring at him, too. Her hand had gone stiff in his lap.
"What did you do, Louis?" said Alice. "With whom did you make the deal?"
"I realised my mistake," said Louis, dodging the question. "In the aftermath of Niall's death, I hated myself for what had happened. I realised I'd been a fool. Then I met Alex, and everything was thrown into sharper relief. I got in touch—"
"Louis."
"—I said it couldn't happen. I said—"
"Louis, who did you talk to?"
Louis looked at Alex. She pulled her hand from his.
"Answer my mother's question," she said. After that, there was no way Louis was going to keep quiet. He returned to Alice.
"Pedro Vasquez," said Louis.
Alice stared at Louis for a long time. Then she took the gin off the table, poured herself another measure, and looked at Abbie.
"You told me my life was in danger. You believed I could be dead by tomorrow’s end, but you didn't know the who, how, or why.”
Replacing the gin on the table, she flicked a hand in Louis’ direction.
"Well, now we know."
Twenty-One
Alice glanced around the table, grabbed an empty bottle.
"Excellent, no tonic. Mind if I...?" She pointed out the door. Louis stared.
"Shouldn't we—?”
"Excellent." She got up and left the room.
Tony rose. Louis put his head into his hands, possibly to escape Alex's furious, hurt eyes. Their profession of love suddenly felt a long time ago.
"Hang on," Abbie said, raising a hand to Tony. "I'll go."
She went without checking if Tony had heeded her request. He almost certainly would, but it didn't really matter. As long as Alex and Louis stayed where they were, Abbie was content.
Alice was in the kitchen, searching for tonic. Slipping through the door, Abbie closed it behind her. There was no sound of Tony following. The two women were alone.
"I'll be back in a minute," Alice said, finding the tonic and putting it beside her glass. "No need to chase me down."
"I'm not looking to chase anyone anywhere," said Abbie. "Just want a word about Jacob."
"What about him?"
"I think he's in danger."
Alice's back was to Abbie, but Abbie still sensed the older woman rolling her eyes. "Tell me something I don't know."
"Do you know that Ollie was with Aurora the night she was murdered?"
Alice turned to Abbie, then back to her drink. Removing the cap from the bottle, she poured tonic into her gin.
"What's your point?"
This was intentionally vague. Alice had realised the moment she turned around that meeting Abbie's eye would be a mistake. She had returned to her gin, but it was too late. In the older woman's eyes, Abbie had seen the truth: Alice hadn't known who Aurora was with that night because Aurora never confided in Alice. Why would she? Nine years was a long time, especially when that nine years took Aurora from six to fifteen. It must have felt to Alice as though her daughter was gone, replaced by a stranger. As for Aurora, here came a woman she knew mostly from prison visits and barely remembered as a mother. It could not have been an easy relationship for either party.
Dodging this emotional minefield, Abbie took the question at face value.
"Ollie was supposed to walk Aurora home. He didn't. You might know why; I don't, but Jacob speculates they argued. Their relationship was strained. After years of being inseparable, Ollie could feel Aurora drifting away, and he didn't know why. They met that night to talk, and Jacob thinks Aurora will have told Ollie the truth as to why they weren't spending so much time together. I'm guessing Tony told you we met Angel and Ollie today, so you know I've seen the boy's temper. Having learned the truth, I can imagine they argued."
Having topped up her glass, Alice put the tonic away. She turned to Abbie, pointed a long finger.
"You want to be careful; it sounds as though you might be accusing my grandson of murdering my daughter."
"Not at all," said Abbie. "Ollie's impulsive. I believe he met Aurora with good intentions, but his anger spilt over. He wouldn't have been carrying a knife, so he can't have slit Aurora's throat, and people who act on emotion don’t clean up crime scenes like professionals. No, I think Ollie argued with Aurora, then ditched her when he was supposed to be walking her home."
"And he ditched her," said Alice, "be00cause he learned the truth of why they’d been spending time apart? Why Aurora had been distant."
"Yes," said Abbie. She hated the hurt in Alice's eyes. The
hurt of a mother who couldn't stand the thought that she had known so little about her daughter's life.
"And what was that truth?" Alice had to force herself to say it.
"That Aurora had a boyfriend."
Alice took her glass from the counter. Didn't drink. Her jaw tight; she couldn’t bring herself to ask another question.
"They only told two people," said Abbie, trying to help Alice feel better about her lack of knowledge. "The boyfriend told his dad. Aurora told Alex. That's what brought them together."
"Brought who togeth—" Alice stopped, looked towards the kitchen door. "This was about Jacob. Are you telling me Jacob and my daughter were in a relationship?"
Abbie hesitated. It was clear from her expression that this was not a truth Alice wanted to accept. Abbie wouldn't have told her if she didn't think it was relevant to the danger she and Jacob faced.
"They were," she said.
"According to who? To Jacob?"
"Like I said, Alex knew as well; you can check with her."
"Fine." Alice strode across the room. Abbie blocked the door.
"In a minute."
"No, get out of my way."
"You know what Ollie's like. I've only met him once, and I can see he's on the verge of collapse. He's grieving, and that got me thinking about Louis. How he knew that he was to blame for his brother's death, but his grief made him point the finger at someone else. At you."
Alice stepped back, observed Abbie as she processed this. It turned in the older woman’s mind and came into focus.
“You think Aurora told Ollie about Jacob, said that's why they weren't spending as much time together. This made Ollie angry, so he left Aurora to walk home alone, and she was murdered. So Ollie's grieving but can't blame himself, so projects. Thinks about why he abandoned Aurora and blames Jacob."
"That's right," said Abbie.
Alice closed her eyes. Shook her head in disgust. "It's possible. Very possible. He's always been an emotional boy. Never knew his dad. I don't think Angel raised him right, but who was I to complain? I went to prison and left my six and thirteen years olds without a parent. I can imagine he'd hate Jacob for what happened."
