by Mark Ayre
She was still seething, her mind still ticking over. She said, "Ollie should never have abandoned my daughter."
"You're right," said Abbie. "But I don't think we can focus on that right now."
"No," agreed Alice. "We can't."
"I heard Angel and Ollie talking about getting revenge on Louis," said Abbie. "But Angel promised they'd punish Jacob. I think Angel thinks she can kill two birds with one stone: appease her son and avenge her sister. I think it was coincidence with Ariana, but when it comes to Angel, Jacob will be the target."
Alice swigged some of her drink. Nodded. "Come on."
They returned to the living room. Alice led the way, drinking as she went. Placing her tumbler on the coffee table, she stood behind the armchair, her hands on the leather, looking down on everyone except Abbie, who stood by the door.
"First, the guns," she said before anyone else could talk. "When I called Pedro, he was not keen to end our business arrangement. He's always been a smooth talker, but his threats were so thinly veiled it was like trying to hide an elephant beneath a tea towel."
"Great simile," said Abbie.
"Thank you. Pedro was determined to get the guns, so I told him I'd already run dry; that was why I considered this the perfect time to quit. I hoped the absence of guns would remove his incentive to cross the ocean and carry out his threats. Louis may have scuppered that."
"Alice, I'm so sorry—"
"Shut up. It doesn't matter. I'll call Pedro first thing, explain there was a misunderstanding. If I have to, I'll offer him some appeasement cash. He's too dangerous to leave dissatisfied. Tomorrow night, I'll arrange for the guns to be destroyed and discarded in the ocean. Then what I told him will be true."
Alice moved around the chair, took her drink, brought it back to where she had been standing.
"That's the guns," she said. "Now Angel. Alex, is it true your little sister and Jacob were romantically involved? If that's the right term for a teenage relationship."
"What?" said Tony, aghast.
Alex bowed her head but said, "Yes. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. She made me promise and—"
"I would have never expected you to breach your sister's trust while she was alive," Alice said. "Once she had died, and with me gearing up to take revenge against Louis, thinking he was responsible, I like to think you would have given me all the facts. Doesn't matter now. Louis, has your son told you who he believes to be responsible for Aurora's murder?"
"Yes," said Louis. "Your grandson."
"What?" repeated Tony. Alice turned to him.
"Ollie was supposed to walk Aurora home on the night she died, but they argued about Jacob, so Ollie left her to walk home alone. It's possible that, if they had stayed together, both would have died. But Jacob is understandably angry. Abbie, did Jacob threaten my grandson?"
"Hey," said Louis, standing, but Alice cut in again.
"I won't target your son; I just need to understand the situation.”
Louis was taking deep breaths; unhappy, but he looked at Abbie, nodded.
"He's angry," said Abbie. "He talks of retribution, but I don't think he'll do anything."
"He won't," said Alice. "Louis, speak with your son; ensure he leaves Ollie alone. I'll deal with my daughters. They're angry, bitter, heartbroken. They're acting out because they believe I’ve let them down, but I'm still their mother, and I'll make them listen. Tomorrow morning, I'll have them agree to a ceasefire until we can gather and talk in the evening."
"Tomorrow evening?" said Louis.
"Yes. I assume you know it's your new girlfriend's birthday and that I'm hosting a joint party for us? It stands to reason, given you're an item and in love, you’d be Alex's plus one. Alex?"
Alex was on the spot. She flushed. "Well, of course, I'd love him to be, but I thought—"
"Then that's settled. Tony, have you asked Abbie to be your plus one yet?"
"I think so," said Tony.
"Well, make sure because I don't have a plus one, and if you don't snap Abbie up, I will. It'll be like the Bodyguard. I'll be Whitney; Abbie can be my Kevin Costner. What do you say, Abbie?"
"Gives me chills. The good kind."
"Excellent, so you'll all be there. Those who aren't already at the house can arrive from sunset, whenever that is tomorrow.”
"Twelve minutes past five," said Abbie at once. Everyone looked her way.
"How do you know that?" said Alice.
Tomorrow was day two of her latest mission. Years of experience told her crunch time for the people she aimed to save happened after sundown on day two in the vast majority of cases. As a result, Abbie always knew what time that was due to take place.
She shrugged. "I'm a font of useless information."
"So it would seem," said Alice. "We'll say arrive from five-fifteen, then. We'll drink, we'll talk, we'll laugh... and we'll put an end to all this bad blood, once and for all."
Twenty-Two
The bridge between day one and day two was when Abbie most needed sleep. Already deprived of a good night's rest because of her warning dream waking her at midnight, Abbie spent day one winning people's trust, trying to uncover potential danger, and often fighting to the death, all of which led to exhaustion by the time her head hit the pillow. With day two being the day, a decent night's sleep could make all the difference.
Abbie assumed.
Her mind infected with fears of what could go wrong on day two, sleep often alluded Abbie. Though the stranger she sought to save still lived at this point, Abbie struggled to prevent her mind contemplating failure and the guilt and tormented dreams that would mean.
Tossing and turning in a comfortable bed, Abbie found sleep harder than ever to come by. Alice had invited Abbie to stay in one of the house-by-the-sea's guest bedrooms. Abbie would have preferred to sleep in the hotel, but it made sense to keep close to Alice. Those Abbie came to save rarely died before sunset on day two, but only a fool would take that risk when the chance to prevent any trouble presented itself.
Alice had joked that she hoped Abbie's tension would ensure she woke if anyone broke in, seeking to do Alice harm. As it turned out, Alice needn't have worried whether an intruder would wake her protector, as Abbie couldn’t fall asleep.
In the early hours: footsteps on the landing. At once, Abbie sat. The feet came from the other end of the hall towards Abbie's room. They progressed for ten seconds after Abbie first heard them, then stopped. When they did, Abbie closed her eyes, held her breath, listened for the feet moving on to Alice's room or downstairs. Although she didn't think either would happen.
Pulling back the covers, Abbie rose. She was dressed only in knickers and a loose tee Tony had loaned her. Abbie added no additional items of clothing before tiptoeing across the room.
Someone rapped lightly on the door.
Half undressed, nor did Abbie grab a weapon. No one had climbed the stairs, and all the windows were closed. Abbie believed it was possible to scale the building, but if someone had, Abbie would have heard them breaking in. By the time she swung open the door, she had deduced who would be on the other side.
"Abbie, I'm sorry. I wasn't going to do this, but I can't—"
"I understand." Every time Abbie closed her eyes, she saw the numerous ways in which she might fail Alice and watch the birthday girl die. She knew when Tony closed his, he would see Blondie, the bullet, possibly his sister. "I can't sleep either."
"I thought that might be the case. That we might be the same." Tony wanted to look at his feet. Taking a breath, he forced himself to hold Abbie's eye. "I thought we could…"
"Yes," said Abbie. "So long as you understand, it still doesn't mean anything?"
"I understand."
He was lying. That much was plain to see.
Abbie didn't care. Right then, she needed someone, anyone to distract her, to blot out her mind. Maybe it wasn't fair on Tony. She couldn't think about that now.
She pulled her top over her head, discarded it.
"Why don't you come in and close the door?"
He did just that.
Twenty-Three
Come the rising sun, Abbie had received two texts. One from Ben, one from Bobby. One on each phone.
She replied to Ben at once. He wanted to know if Abbie needed support and when they could debrief. She told him it would be over by day’s end. For now, she needed no help. After hitting send, Abbie took the second phone, and her fingers hovered over the screen. Bobby had text three times since her last message. Something tugged at her, demanded that she answer, but she resisted.
Dumping the phone on the bedside table, Abbie put her head in her hands and crushed her palms against her face.
Tony had shared her bed. In the end, Abbie had slept well. Later, she might feel guilty about using Tony for a distraction when it was clear he was developing feelings for her. For now... she slapped his chest, and he woke with a start.
“I’m going in the shower,” she said. “Make of that what you will.”
Tony complained about the heat of the water, but not for long. Afterwards, he flopped into bed, watching as Abbie towelled herself and laid out her second set of new clothes.
"You don't need to get dressed. Nothing's going to happen this morning."
Abbie pointed to the window. "Sun's up, it's nearly nine am, and you should never, ever, assume nothing's going to happen at any time. Something could be happening right now."
Putting on her socks but leaving her feet unshoed, Abbie went to the door.
"I can come. Show you where everything is… for breakfast?"
"No, you rest," said Abbie. "We'll talk later."
Before Tony could say anything else, Abbie stepped into the hall. At the opposite end of the corridor was a painting of the house in which Abbie now stood. On either side of the hall were two doors leading into rooms belonging to Alice, Alex, Tony and, once upon a time, Aurora. The second guest bedroom and Ariana's room were around the corner, out of sight. To Abbie's immediate right was a short corridor leading to the top of the stairs.
Abbie planned to knock on Alice's door but didn't expect the now sixty-year-old to answer. Alice would be spending her birthday morning trying to protect Louis' sons from her daughters and herself from Pedro.
None the less, Abbie thought it prudent to check Alice was not enjoying a birthday lie-in, so she approached the homeowner's door, reaching up to knock before a strange sound stole her attention. It was coming from one of the rooms that now surrounded Abbie. A low sound, not talking but human, currently indistinguishable.
From which room did the sound creep? Tony was in the guest room, which meant his room was presumably empty. Alex had stayed with Louis last night, and Aurora now had permanent accommodation at the nearby graveyard. That left Alice's room, but Abbie didn't believe the sound originated from there.
Having stopped outside Alice's room, Abbie closed her eyes, listening. Years of practice had made her a dab hand at locating a noise's origin. This one was coming from Aurora's bedroom.
At first, in what might have been an unnerving twist, the sound reminded Abbie of a wailing ghost. Or what she imagined such a creature would sound like if such a creature existed.
Leaving Alice's room, Abbie moved to Aurora's and pressed her ear to the door. Not believing in ghosts, she waited for the sound to reoccur with the intention of developing an alternative hypothesis for its source.
After a few seconds, there it was.
Wailing was close but not quite right. Sobbing was better, and ghosts didn't sob. The living did.
Abbie needed to enter but worried if she knocked and asked the weeper for permission to come in, the answer would be a resounding, No. However, it would be impolite to open the door and just walk in. Much as Abbie had hated her mother, the old bat had at least drilled into her children good manners. Abbie couldn't do it.
Settling for a half measure, Abbie knocked on the door, announced herself, and walked in.
Like Jacob, Aurora had been a teenager. Therefore, Abbie was unsurprised to see the lilac walls and flower-patterned sheets, boyband posters and a corkboard stuffed with pictures of friends and family; a laptop, also flower-patterned, and an assortment of makeup products on a desk.
The room was tidy, bordering on immaculate (if you didn't count the rows of lipstick lined up on the desk like regimental soldiers and the sniffly boy sobbing on the bed). Still, Abbie didn't suppose Aurora had lived in such neatness. Following the teenager's death, someone, probably Alice, had tidied. Not because she couldn't stand to leave her dead daughter's room a mess, but because cleaning that mess would make her feel closer to the child she had lost. Abbie had done something similar after losing her sister.
The boy in the bed was curled into a ball, facing the wall. Abbie at once knew who he was. Though she had knocked and called out before entering, and though he must have heard her come in, Abbie cleared her throat to announce her presence.
"Ollie, it's Abbie."
The boy remained in the foetal position, his arm over his head. He released a sob, then managed to quiet himself.
"We met yesterday afternoon," Abbie continued. "We didn't get off to the best start, but don't worry, you're not the first guy to try mount me after barely an introduction. Although, you succeeded where most fail."
Still, the boy remained silent but for his sobbing. Angel might have taught Ollie to ignore annoying people because they would eventually get bored and go away. Except that didn't sound like something Angel would say. More likely, Angel's advice would have been to shoot the annoying person and spit on their corpse.
Maybe Ollie didn't have a gun and didn't feel capable of taking on Abbie. On the latter point, he was undoubtedly correct.
"I want you to know," said Abbie, circling the room, taking it all in, "I bear you no ill will. I know you attacked me, but I understand. I threatened your mother; that's not cool. You're on edge because of everything that's happened."
She paused. Had the teenager just scrunched himself up even tighter? Maybe. Either way, he was holding his silence.
"I didn't know you were here," said Abbie. "I'm guessing you have a key, so you might have arrived before we got back yesterday. After that, I was awake until about two am. Did you sneak in early this morning? Does your mum know you're here?"
By this point, Abbie wasn't expecting a response. From the centre of the carpet, she moved to the foot of the bed. Here was the corkboard, A2 size, hanging on string from a hook. There seemed to be a thousand pictures all told, everything overlapping everything else, some photos entirely buried beneath the mosh.
There were school friends up here, or what Abbie assumed were school friends, but most were family pictures. One at the back caught Abbie's eye. With a thumb, she nudged aside an overlapping photo to examine it more closely.
"The whole family," she whispered.
It had to be nearly a decade and a half old and featured the entire Alice clan. The woman herself stood in the photo's centre. Morris and Adam, Alice’s third husband and eldest child, stood immediately to her left and right, respectively. Morris had probably always been handsome but was made more so by his beaming smile. In his wife's arms was his baby daughter, Aurora, and in front of him was an eight-year-old Ariana. This younger Ariana held a familiar fire and determination in her eyes but looked happy. Her father's hands were on her shoulders, and there was love in the daughter's eyes. Maybe Alice was right. Perhaps Ariana hadn't been destined to travel the path of darkness she eventually chose. Her father's death, her mother's arrest, they might have changed everything. Was Aurora’s murder the final nail in her soul’s coffin?
On Adam's other side was a woman that could only be his wife. In front of them were their two children, who appeared to be twins. Adam's wife had taken the kids and moved away when Adam was jailed. From what Abbie knew of Alice, she was sure the birthday girl missed them terribly.
Angel stood to Morris' left; late twenties and as graceful and beautiful ba
ck then as she was today. Ollie was wriggling in her arms. She was smiling, but the smile didn’t ring as true as those around her.
Next to Angel were the teenagers. Sixteen-year-old Alex and fourteen-year-old Anthony. Like her step-father, Alex was beaming. She was dressed in tiny shorts and a top designed to show off what cleavage she had. Tony looked a lot like his older half-brother, but his smile was shy rather than confident. He was the only photo participant who looked uncomfortable. Looking at him, Abbie felt a pang of sympathy and affection in her heart.
"You were a cute baby," she told Ollie, touching the photo to stop the light distorting it, looking at the bundle in Angel's arms. "Cuter than Aurora, I'd say."
For the first time, Abbie heard what she considered to be positive shifting. Abbie didn't move but, in her peripheral, was sure she saw Ollie twist his head up, if only for a second.
"You're on here a few times," Abbie continued. "In fact, you may well be the most featured, except for Aurora herself and this gerbil looking creature."
"Hamster."
Abbie didn't turn or offer a glimmer of shock that Ollie had spoken for the first time. She merely nodded and said, "Sure, cause no tail, right? I never could remember," then went back to browsing the photos.
She hovered over another, taken a few years after the first. Morris stood on the deck of his boat. Under one arm, he held Aurora, under the other Ollie. He appeared to be spinning them. All three parties were laughing.
"Morris must have been strong," she mused. She examined the faces and felt a surge of sadness. "This can't have been taken long before he died."
More shifting, and Abbie knew Ollie was curious as to which picture had Abbie's attention. He twisted his head, and this time Abbie turned to meet his eye, causing him to shove his face back into the pillow.
Abbie withheld a smile. Unpinning the photo in question, she slipped the pin onto the wardrobe and rounded the bed. Once she was behind Ollie's back, she held out the image.
