Deep Water

by Mark Ayre

  “I just want it over, even if that means prison. So long as my boy is safe, I don’t care.”

  With Alice's key, Abbie let herself into the house and proceeded to the balcony. She approached but remained a metre from Alice, not wanting to startle the birthday girl when she was so close to the drop that had probably killed her second youngest daughter.

  "It's sorted," said Abbie.

  "Thank you," said Alice. "That can't have been easy."

  Abbie shrugged. "It needed to be done. Besides, what's killing to me, these days? I've racked up a body count you would not believe."

  "I'm sure you have," said Alice, not looking around. "But how many were executions? How often do you kill a person who is not actively trying to murder you or someone you seek to protect?"

  Abbie couldn't answer. Raphael's death had been quick and painless. Given the story Louis was weaving, Abbie knew it was necessary to ensure none of the men with whom Pedro had crossed the ocean were seen again. Still, killing him when he was defenceless, harmless, had made Abbie sick. Every murder she found difficult. Raphael's would torment her the rest of her life.

  "That's what I thought," said Alice. "So, thank you, and I'm sorry I asked you to do it."

  Trying to avoid the emotional road, Abbie said, "I'll call my contact later tonight. Raphael and Max will never be found."

  "Excellent," said Alice, with no feeling. "And in the morning, I can call the police?"

  "Yes. I'm sorry you have to wait so long."

  Alice nodded but didn't respond. It shouldn't have mattered. Whether the coast guard was mobilised now or in the morning, they had no chance of finding Ariana alive. Still, it did not sit right with Alice, leaving her daughter on the ocean floor. She would picture Ana afraid and alone, though, in truth, her daughter felt nothing at all.

  In the morning, Alice would phone the police. She would explain they had partied the previous night to celebrate her sixtieth birthday. There had been plenty of booze. Come the morning, Alice learned her daughter and her daughter's boyfriend were missing. It was possible they'd gone out but unlikely. The boyfriend's car was still in the drive, and they liked to sneak onto the balcony at night. They always stood near the edge, and if they'd had a little much to drink...

  If the bodies were found, there would be questions about Gray's knife wound. Alice would cross that bridge as and when it became necessary.

  By then, of course, Abbie would be long gone.

  "I want you to keep my number," said Alice at last. "I know you'll tell me it's against company policy, but I don't care. You saved my life tonight. Alex and Tony's too. I owe you everything. More than that, I've come to care about you. I hate the thought of you being alone."

  "I appreciate that," said Alice. "I think I've mentioned that I hated my mother. You’ve no idea how much it means to hear you say you care. And I care about you too."

  "But it doesn't change anything?"

  Abbie took a breath, considered. "I don't know yet. I'm conflicted. This churning's started in my stomach, and I don't know if it'll ever stop. I can't stop thinking about what we discussed this morning, everything I'm missing."

  At last, Alice turned from the cliff edge, smiled at Abbie.

  "I won't push you," she said. "I've said everything I need to say, pretty much. All I can add is that I'm here if you ever decide it might be time to seek more. I'm here whenever you need me."

  "I won't push you either," said Abbie. “Because you're right on the edge, and you'd fall into the sea."

  Alice smiled, chuckled.

  "I don't know how you can care," said Abbie. "Ariana's dead because of me."

  "Ariana's dead because she tried to kill you and failed," said Alice. "I don't blame you for that and never will."

  They smiled at each other, then Alice turned back to the sea. Abbie looked up at the house and wondered about Alex, who hadn't spoken since they'd cut her free from Louis' bed. Tony had helped her downstairs, and she'd clung to him the whole way home. Now they were in her bedroom. Tony wouldn't leave her side as long as she wanted him to stay. Alice had promised to get her daughter whatever help she needed, but Abbie knew it would be a long road to recovery.

  When Abbie turned away from the house, she heard a low sob, even over the whip of the wind. Fighting her innate awkwardness, she stepped to the edge of the balcony and put her arm around Alice.

  For a minute or more, they remained in silence. Then Alice said, "When Morris and I tied the knot, Angel called the union cursed. She’d heard all these stories about her father’s cruelty and had witnessed first hand Alex and Anthony’s father’s ruthless nature. That kind of behaviour she associated with strength, so she thought Morris was rich but worthless because, despite his occupation, he had a kind heart. Warned me that if I married him, had his children, we'd be cursed too."

  Alice sniffed, shook her head.

  "I laughed it off, and Angel warmed to Morris later. He was there for her when she fell pregnant with Ollie, and the useless dad did a runner, and he was great with my grandson. The cursed comment was long forgotten, but I remembered it when Morris died a decade ago. I remembered it when Aurora was killed. Now here we are again, and it's like the complete set. Morris and his daughters." She gave a humourless laugh. "Well, not quite the complete set. Not if you count the wife."

  From the other side of the house, Abbie heard the front door open and close, then someone was marching down the hall towards the kitchen.

  Abbie's hand went instinctively for the gun in her waistband, but she felt the cold touch of Alice's fingers on her wrist as she withdrew it.

  "I know what you want to do," said Alice. "I know you're angry, and believe me, I understand that anger. But I'm begging you not to kill my daughter. Not unless she gives you no other choice. Please. I know what she's done, but I can't take any more bloodshed."

  Abbie's hand was still fixed on her gun. She continued to withdraw it but let it fall by her side in a loose grip. She met Alice's eye, and as Angel stepped onto the balcony, followed by Ollie, Abbie made the hardest move she ever had.

  She nodded.

  They turned to Angel, who whistled and looked at Abbie.

  "Well, well," she said. "This is a surprise, but Abbie, I have to say, I'm excited to see you."

  Abbie took the bait. "Why's that?"

  Beaming, Angel withdrew the same heavy pistol from her handbag as she had earlier.

  "Because I get to kill you again."

  Thirty-Four

  Alice still had the gun she had used to lethal effect at Louis' place. As Angel pointed her weapon at Abbie, Alice aimed for her eldest daughter.

  As per Alice's instructions, Abbie kept her gun by her side.

  Angel looked at her mother. Rolled her eyes.

  "Come on, mum. Can you really stand to lose another daughter?"

  "I don't think I can," said Alice without hesitation. "So I pray you don't make me pull this trigger."

  She kept the gun raised. Angel watched her mother for at least thirty seconds, her own gun still trained on Abbie. Abbie got the impression that if Angel saw Alice shake or waver in any way, she would pull her trigger and trust her mother didn't have the stomach to kill a daughter.

  Alice didn't waver. The gun remained steady; Alice's eyes showed nothing but determination.

  "Spoilsport," muttered Angel and lowered her gun.

  Alice did the same.

  "You were telling the truth about the guns," Angel said. "Though I don't suppose that matters now. I came to pick up Louis, take him to Pedro. Where is he?"

  "He's with his son," said Alice. “He’s with Kyle.”

  "His spare," said Angel, then nodded to where Max had earlier dumped Jacob. "I had his heir killed, after all. Punishment for trying to steal from our family. Whatever you've done since, you'll never undo that."

  "You must be so proud."

  "Oh, I am." Angel paused. "Curious, too. What happened to Pedro? Two of his guys were here, but he had ten more at
the house. Don't tell me you dealt with them."

  "Killed the lot," said Alice. "Sorry to disappoint."

  Angel looked to Abbie. "Damn, girl. You're even more impressive than I could have imagined. You really crawled out the water and started gobbling up people like a sea monster?"

  "Something like that," said Abbie.

  "Well, aren't you frightening?"

  "I've heard it said."

  Angel didn't look frightened. She turned to her mother.

  "What about the money?"

  "There was no money," said Alice. "Pedro was a businessman. Didn't want to work with someone he considered unhinged, unreliable. Soon as he had our entire cache of guns, he planned to put a bullet in your head, just like he did to Jacob."

  Alice didn't credit Abbie for coming up with this theory, but Abbie didn't mind. She was too busy enjoying Angel's expression. Alice's eldest daughter at first appeared ready to laugh at the comments. When she saw her mother's eyes, realised she wasn't being had, the laugh turned to frustration. After a handful of angry seconds, she pushed the angst away, replacing it with another laugh.

  "I suppose I should be thanking you, then, for saving my life?"

  "I suppose you should."

  "But what do we do now? Where do we go from here?"

  "I'd argue that's simple," said Alice. "It's clear after everything you've done, you can't stick around. I can never forgive you for not letting me try to rescue Ariana after her fall, nor for what happened to Jacob. Not to mention I'd be too stressed watching my back if you remained in town. No. You'll have to leave."

  "Leave?" said Angel, eyebrows raised.

  "Tonight would be best," said Alice. "But I still love you. I'll always love you. With that in mind, I won't make sure you're gone until tomorrow evening. Give you plenty of time to jet off wherever you're heading next."

  Angel bore her teeth. She looked ready to fight, and Alice must have seen it. Raising the gun again, she trained her sights on Angel's chest."

  "Oh, come on, mother," said Angel. "Would you really?"

  "I don't know," said Alice. "Can you believe that? I've got a gun pointed at my daughter, and if that's not mad enough, I honestly don't know if I'd pull the trigger. Inside, most of me is screaming that I could never, because you'll always be my little girl. Then I see Jacob, lying at Louis' feet, and I see you standing in my way when all I want is to try save your sister. I see all that, and I see your smug little smile, and I think if you could let your sister drown and murder an innocent teenager, what else could you do? I don't care much for myself, but I wonder about Alex and Tony because you think they betrayed you too, right? By falling in love with Louis, by sleeping with Abbie. So are they safe? And if I decide they're not, my next decision is whether I'm looking at a trade: if I put a bullet in you tonight, do I save them? Is it a choice between losing two more children or only one? It's all churning away up here." Alice jabbed her head. "You'll never know how much it hurts."

  Angel's cocky smile was gone. Having listened to every word her mother said, she was unnerved. Having stepped onto this balcony believing there was no chance Alice would kill her, thinking Abbie was the only threat, she was no longer sure.

  Angel hated to lose, but not as much as she was afraid to die.

  "You got it wrong about Jacob," she said at last. "He was the enemy, and he corrupted your little girl—our Aurora."

  "That's rubbish," said Alice.

  "You think? He forced her to stop seeing Ollie. Tore apart their relationship and sent your grandson spiralling into depression. Isn't that right, baby?"

  Between the riled mother and daughter, Abbie had almost forgotten Ollie. As he had his entire life, he stood now in Angel's shadow. When she asked the question and turned his way, he didn't step forward to answer but cowered under her gaze.

  There was silence, broken only by Ollie's whimpers.

  "I asked you a question," Angel said. "Tell your grandmother what Jacob did."

  Ollie looked at his mum, then his eyes turned to Abbie, pleading.

  "Don't look at her," Angel said. Grabbing her son's chin, she yanked his face towards hers. "Tell them about Jacob."

  The boy opened his mouth but couldn't speak. Rage flashed across Angel's eyes, and her hand twitched.

  "That's enough," said Abbie.

  Angel's head snapped around. "Excuse me?"

  "I promised I wouldn't hurt you, but if you lay a finger on Ollie, I may be unable to stop myself."

  "Threats," spat Angel. "You don't scare me. I asked my son a question."

  "And he doesn't want to answer," said Alice. "Angel, you can't force him. We won't let you."

  Angel stared as her mother stepped forward. Her eyes flashed to the guns in her enemies hands. She had her own but had to know she couldn't kill both women. It would be a case of choosing one and trying to enjoy the minor victory before the other killed her.

  But Angel didn't want to die.

  Rather than simply remove her hand from Ollie's cheek, she pushed the boy and yanked her hand away. With a grin, she looked back at him, expecting Ollie to be cowering at her feet.

  Instead, his eyes had gone to Abbie and Alice. He looked grateful.

  Abbie took another step forward. For a moment, it looked as though that gratitude might be the straw that broke the camel's back. Abbie feared Angel might turn the gun on her son.

  "Don't think that they care about you," said Angel. "They defend you because you're here, and they want to ease their conscience. But they don't care. Haven't they proven that? They've told us to leave forever."

  "Actually," said Alice. "That's not what I said."

  Angel turned to her mother, eyebrows raised. "I'm sorry?"

  "You have to go," said Alice. "You've proven that tonight. As for Ollie, I think he's old enough to make his own decision."

  Angel was temporarily stunned, then she laughed and shook her head.

  "I don't think so. He's my son; he stays with me."

  Alice said nothing. Once more, she'd lowered her gun, but both hands were on the grip, a finger was on the trigger. If necessary, she was ready to force Angel into submission.

  "Fine," said Angel. "We'll let the boy decide. Ollie, would you rather stay with this near stranger and the grandmother who's spent most of your life in prison or with your mother?”

  Ollie stared at the ground. His feet shifting. Abbie understood his reticence. His mother was evil, awful, mentally abusive, and possibly physically too. Still, he was scared of the repercussions of turning her down. Not to mention she was still his mum.

  "You ungrateful little shit."

  Ollie had yet to make a decision. Angel found insult enough in his hesitation to lash out.

  "Everything I've done for you," she said. "Remember, I know who you are. I've seen the darkest side of you, and I'm still here."

  Angel was tall. She bent a little to put her arm around her son, her cheek to his cheek. They were facing Alice and Abbie, and Angel pointed at the birthday girl.

  "How would your grandmother feel if she knew all you'd done? Would she still love you? Maybe I should tell her and see if she still wants you to stick around."

  "What are you talking about, Angel?" Alice asked, then jumped as something touched her arm.

  Abbie had moved across the balcony and lay a hand on the older woman's wrist.

  "I think you need to remember Ollie’s upbringing. The emotional torture, the bullying. It's no wonder he's struggling. No wonder he’s proven himself to have a temper.”

  "Do I take it you're not nominating me for mother of the year?" asked Angel.

  "It's going to be hard to hear," said Abbie to Alice, ignoring Angel. "I beg you to keep what I just said in mind."

  "What are you talking about?" said Alice. She looked at her daughter. Angel's skin had gone a little paler. She'd meant her words to force Ollie into bending to her will; she had never intended to carry out her threat and reveal the truth. As before, she had underestimated Abbie. N
ow she was nervous.

  "Ollie," said Abbie. "I know you're afraid. You're scared of your mother, but that isn't your biggest problem. The secret you're keeping buried inside; it's poison. It's devouring your soul. I know how that feels. I hate to resort to a cliche, but I think, if you want to get better, we need to turn to one now. Ollie, only the truth can set you free."

  Angel gave a harsh laugh. But it was tinged with hysteria. Reaching out, she grabbed Ollie's hand, began pulling him to the door, back to the bar.

  "You want us gone, mother? Well, we're gone. I hope you're happy. No wait, I hope you rot."

  Ollie was looking at Abbie. Strangled by fear, he wasn't going to speak. Rather than release his demons, he would run with his mother, allow her to destroy him from the outside while his demons destroyed him from within.

  "That night," said Abbie, as Angel tugged Ollie on. "You fought with Aurora because you were jealous of her relationship with Jacob. You wanted them to break up so you could have her all to yourself. When Aurora refused, you got angry. That's your mother's fault. Your whole life, she's taught you never to accept rejection. If someone doesn't do what you want, the only recourse is to use violence or threats to get your way."

  "And where did I learn that?" said Angel. "What happened to my father when mum got bored?"

  "Bored?" Alice stormed forward, rage pouring from her.

  Abbie caught the birthday girl's arm before she could charge at her daughter.

  "Your father was a rapist, a monster," said Alice. "I killed him to save you."

  Angel snorted, her disbelief palpable. How could she accept her mother's version of events when her fiction had helped rationalise her many despicable acts?

  "See what I mean, Ollie?" said Abbie. "Your mother taught you a particular way of living, burned it into you, so when Aurora said she wouldn't break up with Jacob, you acted on instinct. Instinct your mother gave you."

  Angel was tugging again. Ollie was no longer moving. Eyes glistening with tears, he was holding himself in the doorway between the balcony and the bar, staring at Abbie.