by Mark Ayre
"Go on."
"Option one: you move Tony upstairs and call an ambulance, call the police. You say you heard a skirmish and a gunshot. When you came down, you found Angel lying amongst the glass. You can't find Gray anywhere, so it stands to reason he tried to shoot her; she pushed him over the edge and then tripped and fell on the glass. Obviously, she's facing the wrong way, but we could fix that. The balcony's quite long, but it's possible, in the horror of what happened, she would back away from the edge and not remember the glass until it was too late. The gun that shot out the glass would go into the ocean to be found by the coast guard or police. The rest we would keep and dispose of at a later date. Don't want to risk them being found. The police would investigate, the ambulance would take Angel away. There's a chance she'd survive, but that chance diminishes with each passing second. There are other issues, of course. Will the police be able to tell how long Angel was lying here before you called them? Possibly. What if they find Gray's body? That grows less likely as time passes but again, it’s possible. If they do, the knife wound’s explainable; Angel could have done that, but what about how long he's been in the water? Will they be able to tell he was pushed over a while before Angel tripped and cut herself up? Possible again. It's a risk, is what I'm saying, but you can afford good lawyers. Chances are, you'd get away with it."
Angel was staring at the sky. She tried to lift a hand, but it dropped. The pool of blood was unmissable now. In a few minutes, this conversation would be moot.
"Option two?" asked Alice.
"Same as one," said Abbie, but you don't call until morning. That has the added complication of explaining how you failed to hear the gunshot, but again, expensive lawyers, you'd probably be fine."
"Leave my daughter to die, in other words," said Alice. Abbie looked at the mother, saw the pain in her eyes.
"If Angel's death is something you can't countenance, we should skip option three and phone the police immediately. Your daughter has no chance of survival if she doesn’t get medical attention very soon. It might already be too late."
Alice was staring at her daughter. There was determination in her eyes.
"Option three," she said, then spoke before Abbie could get into it. "Let me guess: your people collect her when they come for Max, Raphael, and Jacob. Make her disappear."
“I don’t really consider them my people,” said Abbie. “But that’s about the size of it. Angel will never be seen again.”
A tear ran down Alice's cheek as the kitchen door opened and Ollie and Ariana reentered. The duo stopped at the sight of their mother. Alex looked up as well.
Carefully, Alice stepped onto the balcony, picked her way through the glass. Stopping over her daughter, Alice lowered to her haunches.
"Do you think she's in pain?"
Alice hadn’t looked up from the body, but Abbie assumed the question was from her.
"No," said Abbie. "I mean that. If she was in pain, I think you'd see it in her eyes. Do her eyes look pained?”
"They looked confused, sad, afraid. Oh, Angel, why did you do this?"
Alice stroked Angel's cheek, turned her daughter's face towards her. She was crying. Angel opened her mouth, but no words came out.
"Oliver," said Alice. "Come here."
All eyes turned to the teenager who stared at his mother, then shook his head.
"No. Mum brought this on herself. I hate her."
"I don't care what you think you feel. You come here right now and say goodbye."
Ollie had been shaking his head, but the word goodbye had a profound effect. Where his face had been stony, the tears came, and he made his way across the bar and towards his mother.
Still stroking Angel's cheek, Alice leaned forward and kissed her daughter's head.
"I hate what you've done," she said. "But I’ll always love you. And however much I hate your actions, I hate myself even more for what I'm about to do."
Ollie had arrived. After giving her daughter another kiss on the forehead, Alice cupped Ollie's chin and looked him in the eye.
"However you think you feel, for the next few minutes, see Angel only as your mother. Hold her hand. Mourn for her. You can be angry once she's gone but don't waste your last moments."
The fight having left him, Ollie only nodded. When Alice stood, he did as she asked, taking his mother's hand and leaning close to her. Angel looked at her son. He kissed her forehead.
"I love you, mum."
Alice came into the bar. Looked from Ariana to Alex to Tony. "Same advice to the three of you. Get over your hang-ups, just for the next few minutes. Once you're done, bring Tony to the kitchen, and I'll sort his shoulder.
"You can't be serious," said Ariana. "After everything she—“
"Just don't, Ana," said Alice, snatching the bag Ariana had collected with Ollie. "It's my birthday, and you'll grant me this wish. Say goodbye to your sister."
Drying her eyes, Alice looked at Abbie.
"We'll go for option three. Then, at last, I think it'll be over."
Abbie nodded.
Alice took a final glance at her daughter, let the tears come freely, and fled the room.
Thirty-Six
Abbie sat on the bonnet of Gray's car, her head tilted to the sky, her eyes closed. She enjoyed the cool breeze that whipped across her skin and the silence of the night. After each mission, there was always a period of silence, and it was always pleasant.
The clock struck midnight. Day two was over. Alice had survived, and Abbie had succeeded. Abbie wished she could find a reason to smile, but for her, as always, joy was as fictional as the unicorn. Once again, she would have to search for contentment and settle for that.
In her hands were her phones. As yet, she hadn’t rung Ben. Until Alice said it was okay, she wouldn't. There was no rush. Despite the gun going off at the back of Alice's house, no police had arrived. It seemed no one had heard.
Abbie sat on the bonnet for a long time but never grew bored. She was in no rush to get to the final conversation.
But there was no avoiding it. At last, the front door opened. Abbie kept her head tilted to the sky as footsteps approached. Did not let her gaze fall to Earth until the bonnet compressed as one became two.
"All sorted?" Abbie asked, looking down and meeting Alice's eye.
"Tony will be fine. I removed the bullet, disinfected the wound, and patched him up. He'll be on painkillers for a while, but he'll survive. So long as we're careful, he shouldn't lose any mobility in the arm, either."
"That's good."
Alice nodded. "I've given Ariana painkillers and disinfected numerous wounds. I've stitched her up, bandaged her up, and given her about seventeen ice packs. Eventually, she’ll heal, but she'll be stiff and in lots of pain when she wakes tomorrow, and I expect her to struggle to get out of bed for several days."
"That might not be the worst thing."
"My thoughts exactly," said Alice. "I know what she did was terrible. I understand that. But she’s young. Everything she’s suffered has caused damage to her soul, but not irreversible damage. I have to believe I can get through to her. She cannot end up like Angel."
"They're not the same person," said Abbie. "I think you can get through to her. I wouldn't have said this for Angel, but I honestly believe that Ariana's redeemable despite everything she's done. But you know what the first step towards that redemption is?"
"She has to feel guilt over what she did to Jacob."
"Exactly. If Ariana refuses to understand and appreciate the pain she caused, you’ll struggle to rehabilitate her soul. But I don’t think she will. I think in the aftermath of these past two days, the truth of what she almost did will come home to her, and it’ll hurt. As it should.”
"I think you’re right. I hope you are.”
Alice trailed off, looked at the houses opposite. Those poor people from whom Morris had stolen a beautiful view of the cliffs and the sea.
"Angel's dead," Alice said at last.
&nbs
p; "I'm sorry for your loss."
Alice looked at Abbie, her expression suggesting she did not believe Abbie could mean these words. But Abbie did. Her feelings towards Angel were irrelevant when it came to feeling sorry for Alice's loss.
From Abbie's expression, Alice must have drawn the same conclusion.
"Thank you. When Angel passed, Ollie and I were holding her hands. Tony, Ariana and Alex were all there. We all got to say our goodbyes."
"You did the right thing," said Abbie, "making them stay with her. Especially Ollie. No matter what Angel did, he'd never have forgiven himself for walking away."
"I agree. The question is, how will I process this going forward? Every day, I think of Aurora. From now on, when I do, I'll remember it was Angel who cut open my sweet youngest child's throat, and I will despise her for that. But I'll also remember her as my daughter, and I'll miss her. How can those two feelings exist side by side?"
"More easily than you could imagine," said Abbie. "Believe me."
Alice considered this point but asked no follow up questions. By now, the sixty-year-old had gone through the physical injuries and the deceased. There was more to discuss.
"The man you killed in the en-suite was the first," said Alice.
Abbie didn't need to ask what she meant by 'the first'. Pedro had probably taunted Alex, letting her know—before Scumbag took her upstairs and tied her to a bed—he would give each of his men the chance to use her as they wished. As it turned out, only Scumbag’s wishes came true before Abbie arrived to ruin the party.
"She hasn't told me what he did, but she's hurting inside. We know from first-hand experience what that pain’s like," said Alice.
Abbie nodded, said nothing.
"I'll be open with her about Angel and Adam’s father. I hope I can help her work through what happened, but I'll hire external help if that's what's needed."
"I think that's the right way to go," said Abbie.
That left one person to discuss. Alice clearly wasn't ready to go there yet because she turned to Abbie and said, "What about you? I tried to persuade you life was empty without family. After today, seeing my brood must have reaffirmed your belief that you're better off alone."
"You would think," said Abbie. "But not so. I still can't get it out of my head; everything you said. This will sound pretentious or like a depressed poet or something, but I'm drowning in loneliness. I spend all these days or weeks sitting around, reading, working out, doing anything to take my mind off the sheer boredom, waiting until I'm called to my next mission. I always think, once I'm out there, it'll be okay. I'll save the life or lives and stop some bad people, and that'll remind me why I do what I do. I'll feel fulfilled. Content. Ready to return to my empty existence and do it all over again."
Alice waited, then leaned over and nudged Abbie's shoulder with her own.
"But?"
"But it's always bittersweet." Abbie looked back at the house, then across the road. "Here I am, and we stopped the bad guys, but what am I leaving behind? Louis and Kyle are safe but are they rejoicing? No, they're mourning the loss of a son and a brother, a teenager who had his whole life ahead of him. I saved you, which was the point, but what am I leaving behind for you when I piss off? A child thrown from a cliff, lucky to survive drowning. A child shot, a child abused. A second daughter killed in only a few weeks. The knowledge your husband was a cheat and your grandson his love child. The murder of your youngest daughter returned to the forefront of your mind. You don't only have to come to terms with the fact Angel killed her but also with Ollie's involvement. You went through the condition of everyone in that house but left him out. Fine. You don't have to discuss him with me. You do need to make a decision because you're all he's got. Question is, can you come to terms with the fact he attacked Ariana and called his mum rather than an ambulance?"
"I don't know," said Alice. "Should I even try? Does he deserve it?"
"Not for me to say," said Abbie. "I hope you find a way to forgive him, to help him, but I'm removed from the situation. I never met Aurora, but I did meet Ollie. I understand the damage Angel did. I want to see him get help.”
Alice considered, then nodded. “I’ve decided to blame Angel for what happened to Aurora and how Ollie turned out,” she said. “I don’t know how I’ll do, but I’ll try to treat Ollie as though he were my own. Try to fix the damage my daughter did during his upbringing, especially during the years I was in jail.”
This was brave, commendable, amazing. Abbie wanted to say all of those things or take Alice’s hand or something but found the words blocked.
In the end, she said, “I hope, for both your sakes, you can do it. I think it will be good for you both. Either way, I'll never know because I'm walking away, which brings us back to the crux of the problem."
"Which is?"
"I come to new places to save the lives of strangers, and usually I do. But what do I leave behind? Not happy families but broken homes. Lives left in tatters. How do I keep on with this vicious cycle when nothing ever seems to get better?"
Abbie expected Alice to mull that one over. She did not expect the older woman to laugh, but that's precisely what Alice did.
"This is funny?" Abbie asked.
"It is," said Alice. "I never get to talk about my great love, and you've given me reason to do so twice in one day. Thank you, Abagail."
Great love? Abbie considered Alice's children and her home and her sea view before it clicked.
"Spider-man?"
"That's the one."
"And he's relevant here because..."
Alice patted Abbie's leg. "Peter Parker has suffered some terrible tragedies in his life. Most notably, the deaths of his Uncle Ben and one of his love interests, Gwen Stacey. However, for the most part, and as with most superheroes, his stories have happy endings. He swoops in, fights the bad guy, struggles, ultimately overcomes them, and celebrates. Very rarely does anyone important get hurt, and the collateral damage isn't mentioned. That is fictional heroes. Do you see where I'm going with this?"
Abbie did. Not wanting to rob Alice of the effect of the end of her story, she chose not to answer.
"This isn't fiction," said Alice. "This is real life, and in real life, collateral damage matters. In real life, things are seldom squared away neatly and nicely."
Pause. Behind the house, they could hear the water lapping at the rocks. The cold seemed to deepen by a couple of degrees. Abbie shivered, but Alice did not.
"My youngest daughter died before you arrived. During your mission to keep me alive, Jacob died, though you promised Louis you'd keep him safe. I've already gone over everything that happened to my children. Horrible stuff."
"Thank you for reminding me about Jacob."
Alice waved this away. "But what if you hadn't been here? Jacob would still be dead, but so would Louis and Kyle. That monster you killed would still have raped my daughter, but so would a bunch of his friends. Angel would still be dead, but who else? Do you think Pedro would have stopped with her? Tony and I would never have escaped the balcony. It would have been a simple matter for Pedro to come and gun us down. When Ariana reemerged, he would have got her too."
“Good point,” said Abbie. “Then who would have visited your eldest in prison?”
Alice chuckled. “Well, quite. But you get my point. You're one of the good ones, truly, so you'll carry the pain of the lives you failed to save from this encounter, but you shouldn't. You should examine the situation on its merits and have the sense to realise how much worse things would be if you hadn't turned up. Abbie, you are an honest, true-life hero. I pray you remember that, even if only occasionally."
They took some time. During the silence, Alice took a card from her pocket on which she had scribbled a number. She tapped Abbie's phone.
"Call your contact. I know you want to get everything squared away; you've been waiting for my permission. Well, now you have it. So make your call, but before you do, I'm going to ask something else of you.
Something I have no right to ask given everything you've already done."
Though she thought she already knew what this something was, Abbie met Alice's eye and asked the question.
"What's that?"
Alice handed her the card.
"Take my number, and if you ever need anything, give me a call."
Abbie was reticent. Alice forced the card into her hand and closed her fingers into a fist around it.
"Now, I know a lot of people throw out the 'if you ever need anything' line, so I want to clarify my meaning. If you need someone to talk to, pick up the phone. If you need a boatload of money to escape a tricky fix, you give me a call. If you decide you want to get a couple of cats, then get it in your head that you need a holiday and need someone to catsit, what do you do?"
Abbie held up the card.
"Right, you buzz me, and I'll send Alex because she loves cats, and I'm allergic."
Abbie laughed.
Alice said, "I think you get the point."
"I reckon I do," said Abbie, meeting Alice's eye and trying not to cry. "And you know, I'm not sure what to say."
"That's okay," said Alice. "Now you know how I feel. I'm glad I met you, Abagail, and not only because you saved my life."
"I'm glad I met you too," said Abbie, and before she knew what she was doing, she leaned forward and gave Alice a hug. "I'm sorry you had such a shit birthday."
"Ah, whatever," said Alice. "There's always seventy."
The women laughed. After a while, the hug broke, and Abbie rose, drying tears from her eyes. She looked back towards the house; tried to decide how to say what she needed to say.
"He'll be disappointed," Alice said in response to the unasked question. "But he'll understand. Our Tone, he's good like that."
Abbie smiled. "Thank you."
Alice nodded, also rose from the car. "Goodbye, Abbie. I hope to see you again."
Finding herself unable to speak, Abbie raised her hand, turned, and walked away.
No one had stolen Abbie's car, which was handy. It remained parked on the lot above the beach, not far from where she'd found the dying embers of the party. Where she'd intervened to save Jacob from Ariana and her despicable plan.
