Runaway Lies

by Shannon Curtis

‘For morning tea?’ Julia asked hopefully.

  ‘No.’

  ‘I know!’ Jonah exclaimed. ‘We can have chocolate instead!’

  Darcy laughed as they all climbed out of bed. ‘I’m thinking maybe some fruit instead.’ She realised she wore a T-shirt that wasn’t hers. ‘What in the world?’

  She touched the red fabric. It was soft and faded and fell to mid-thigh, a well-worn garment. She caught a whiff of Dom’s spicy scent. Almost like a hug from the man himself. Her cheeks warmed, and a smile lifted her lips. She couldn’t remember changing last night – had Dom put her in this?

  She looked around, and there were neatly folded clothes at the end of the bed, still bearing the familiar tags from a chic boutique in Mosman. How had he organised that?

  The kids waited on her bed, rolling and jumping around as she had a quick shower and changed. She spared a quick glimpse in the mirror. The white pants made her legs look long and slim, and the blouse was a lilac camisole and shirt combination that was flowing and flirty. The ensemble would look quite feminine – if it weren’t for the tattoo on her neck. It was starting to fade, thank goodness. She shook her head as she left the bathroom. She ignored the white slingback shoes. She’d spent the last few days in boots that were one size too big, and she had a blister on one foot. Going barefoot felt great.

  She followed the twins downstairs to the kitchen, and went over to the pantry to start setting out breakfast. She thought Gertrude must be having a lie-in, too. She deserved it, and more, after what she’d been through. Still, Darcy was surprised Roland wasn’t around. Perhaps he just wanted to spend time looking after his wife.

  ‘Okay, so what do we want on our toast this morning, guys? Vegemite or peanut butter?’ She pursed her lips, eyeing the shelves in the pantry as she waited for them to respond. She smiled at the silence. ‘We’re not having ice-cream,’ she said as she turned to look back at them.

  Their expressions were an identical mix of shock and fear, and she frowned.

  ‘It’s Vegemite, guys, not the end of the world.’ She closed the door, then jumped when she saw the figure.

  ‘Oh!’ Darcy took a step back, her hand at her throat. It was a woman, that much she could tell, with long, stringy hair that may once have been blonde but now showed significant brown regrowth. Blue eyes stared back at her, remote, cool and just a little glazed. She frowned. The woman looked familiar…

  ‘Oh my God,’ Darcy breathed. ‘Ava? Is that you?’

  She was thin, her skin pale and blotchy, her hair unkempt and tangled, and the clothes she wore were ill-fitting, rumpled and stained. She looked so far removed from her photos, she was almost impossible to recognise.

  ‘Ava?’ she asked again, gently.

  Ava nodded, stepping closer.

  ‘Hey, are you okay? Come and sit,’ Darcy said, trying not to breathe in too deeply, the smell of Ava’s stale sweat and unwashed body almost overpowering. She glanced over at the kids, a smile on her face. Their mother was alive – alive! Her smile faltered when she saw Julia’s pale face, the thumb in her mouth, and Jonah’s set expression, both scared and mutinous at the same time.

  ‘Hey, guys, it’s your mum,’ she said quietly. Maybe they didn’t recognise her.

  Julia started to cry, and Jonah slid down from his chair, tugging at his sister to do the same. Darcy could understand their shock – she wondered how Dominic would react.

  ‘Come, sit,’ she said to Ava, gesturing to a chair as she stepped over to the kettle and flicked it on. ‘Where have you been? What happened? Are you okay? I’m sure Dom will be so relieved to see you’re all right—’

  ‘You’ve made yourself quite at home, haven’t you? Playing hostess.’ The voice was soft, sibilant, and Darcy froze in the act of removing a mug from the cupboard.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’ she asked, turning slowly, mug in hand.

  ‘I know what you’ve been doing,’ Ava hissed, walking slowly, gracefully, like a cat on a fence.

  Darcy’s cheeks flamed, and she darted a glance at the kids. This was awkward. The ex-wife meeting the mistress. In front of the kids. Extreme embarrassment burned down her neck.

  ‘Uh, maybe we should go into the lounge for a chat,’ she suggested. As far as she was aware, the kids didn’t know about the relationship between her and Dom, and she certainly didn’t want them to find out like this.

  ‘You think you can waltz on in and take my place, don’t you?’ Ava murmured, pausing by the kitchen counter near the oven. Something in the woman’s eyes, the wild, barely controlled rage…

  Darcy stepped back, barely registering the kettle’s switch turning off automatically. The woman looked slightly unhinged.

  ‘No, Ava. That’s never been my intention,’ she responded honestly. ‘And we’re so relieved to see you’re all right. Why don’t I go get Dominic, let him know you’re here?’ This was more of a conversation that should happen between the divorced couple, not the two women. And no, she wasn’t passing the buck. Okay, maybe a little.

  ‘Dominic’s not here. He left about an hour ago.’

  ‘Oh.’ Darcy frowned. ‘Does he know you’re here?’ As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she knew the answer. Dominic wouldn’t just walk out if his presumed-dead ex-wife turned up on his doorstep.

  ‘No, he doesn’t.’

  ‘Oh.’ So how did Ava know when he’d left? She must have just missed him – or she was watching the house. Darcy gave herself a mental shake. The woman used to be married to him, of course she would have just missed him. The other option only showed how paranoid this whole Mark Shein business was making her.

  ‘Why don’t I make us a cup of tea and we can wait for Dom to come back?’ she asked brightly, calmly.

  Ava tilted her head, surveying the knife block on the counter. She withdrew one of the knives, a wide blade that flashed in the morning light.

  Darcy’s eyes widened.

  ‘I’m afraid I can’t join you for tea,’ Ava answered oh-so-politely, as though mocking Darcy’s efforts at hospitality. ‘I have other plans.’

  Julia’s crying started to get louder, almost hysterical.

  ‘It’s okay, Julia,’ Darcy whispered, holding a hand out to the girl. Julia ran to her, grasping her around the leg and holding on for dear life.

  ‘That’s right, Julia, everything is okay,’ Ava said, her eyes narrowing. ‘Mama’s back.’

  ‘Go away,’ Jonah cried, his hands fisted, tears streaking down his face. ‘We don’t want you back.’

  A chill settled over Darcy. The children were so anxious around this woman, so combative. It wasn’t the reaction she would have expected, and her instincts weren’t so much as ringing alarm bells as screaming at her right now.

  ‘Put down the knife, Ava. Please, you’re scaring the children.’ She placed a cautionary hand on Jonah’s slim shoulder. She didn’t want him charging her in some superhero move.

  Ava shook her head. ‘No, I think I’ll hang on to this,’ she said, tipping her head and looking at the tableau before her with mild curiosity.

  Darcy moved the twins behind her, not liking the feral glint in the woman’s eye, or the weapon in her hand. Why hadn’t the woman gone to the nearest hospital, or police station?

  ‘Where have you been all this time? Everyone has been so worried about you. Dom has been so worried about you.’

  Ava brightened. ‘Really? See? It worked.’

  She had no idea what the woman was talking about. She took in the limp, oily hair, the blemished skin, the clothes that hung awkwardly on her frame, as though she’d lost weight. ‘Where did you go, Ava?’ she asked softly.

  Ava’s eyes glistened, and her chin quivered. ‘I’ve been to hell, that’s where I’ve been. I have walked, and hitched.’ The hand holding the knife trembled. ‘I’ve had to do some terrible, terrible things,’ she said in a whisper, and Darcy’s shoulders sagged. She’d lived a little while on the streets, but she’d been fortunate. Others, not so much. It appeared an a
ttractive woman such as Ava hadn’t fared so well. But she was still holding a knife, still stalking her in a kitchen.

  ‘What do you want, Ava? Why are you here?’

  ‘I’ve come to finish what I started,’ Ava said in a surprised tone, as though it was obvious. She took a step towards them.

  Darcy retreated, pushing the children back behind her. ‘What?’ she breathed in horror. ‘What do you mean, what you started?’

  ‘I had it all planned, and you ruined it.’

  ‘You had what planned?’ This didn’t sound good – it didn’t sound rational, but it definitely didn’t sound good. She tried to nudge the twins out of the kitchen, but they stuck to her like glue.

  ‘You ruined everything,’ Ava continued, her mouth pulling down at the corners in a parody of a sad expression. ‘The car – I planned everything so carefully. What were you doing on that road?’

  Oh. My. God. Darcy’s jaw slackened in shock. Oh. My. God. No, this can’t be right.

  She turned briefly to the kids, not taking her eyes off the knife-wielding woman. ‘Cabbage,’ she said to them quietly.

  ‘No,’ Julia wailed.

  ‘Yes. Jonah.’

  The boy didn’t need any further urging, and Julia reluctantly let go as her brother pulled her away. ‘What did you do, Ava?’ Darcy asked once she was sure the children were out of the room – and out of earshot. She kept her voice calm and retreated with every step Ava took.

  ‘I planned it so well,’ Ava said, shaking her head. ‘I just didn’t plan on you.’ She chuckled. ‘Don’t you know there’s no safe room here? There is nowhere for them to hide where I can’t find them, not in this house. And this time you won’t be around to rescue them.’

  ‘God, Ava, please. Why? Why would you do that?’ Darcy’s hand rose to cover her mouth. It was – obscene. How could this mother try to kill her own children? A chill crept over her arms, goosebumps making the fine hairs there stand on end.

  ‘You don’t know. You don’t understand. I love Dominic.’ Ava touched the end of the blade, and Darcy winced as it drew blood. ‘I love him so much.’

  ‘And your children?’

  Ava lifted her gaze to Darcy and blinked, as though surprised to see her there. ‘Everything changed. Dom changed when the kids were born. Things were different. He just wanted to be with them all the time, everything revolved around them, around their sleep time, around their meal times. He didn’t want us to be a couple anymore, he expected us to be a family. Suddenly I wasn’t his girl – Julia was. And Jonah was his little man.’

  Darcy rubbed her hand over her mouth and chin in an effort to keep from screaming. ‘Are you saying you were jealous?’ She’d heard of some new parents experiencing the emotion, but mostly they worked through the tough adjustment of the arrival of a baby in the house.

  Ava shook her head, her mouth curving downward even further as she stared at the trickle of blood running down her cut finger. ‘No. Not jealous, but I knew. He loved me, then they came, and he loved them. He didn’t love me anymore, not like he used to.’ She shrugged. ‘I want my husband back. I want my lover. If the kids weren’t here, I’d have him all to myself.’

  The woman was nuttier than a nibblies bowl in a bar. ‘I think maybe you need some help,’ she suggested gently, although she felt like an idiot for stating the obvious.

  Ava sucked at the cut on her finger, then smiled and waved the knife. ‘No, I need to put things back the way they were. Before you. Before the kids. Just Dom and me.’

  The woman’s eyes narrowed, and Darcy had a moment to register the movement before Ava lunged at her. Darcy threw the mug at her, and it hit her in the face. There was a faint crack, and Ava’s head snapped back. Blood bloomed on the bridge of her nose. She yelled and reached out again with the blade, one hand rising to press at her broken nose.

  Darcy grabbed the kettle, popped the lid and threw the contents at the woman, and Ava screeched, slashing blindly as she staggered back, clutching at her face.

  ‘Sorry,’ Darcy muttered as she ran out of the kitchen, feeling a moment’s remorse at causing the woman pain before her survival instincts burned that remorse to dust. She paused for a moment in the hallway. Where were the kids? She’d assumed Dom had a safe room here, too, but from what Ava had said, that assumption was wrong. Where the hell were the kids? She took the stairs two at a time, and ran into the nearest bedroom. Help. She needed help.

  She ran to the phone on the bedside table and picked it up off the rest. She quickly dialled 000, but froze when she heard the tone. A phone was off the hook somewhere in the house. She couldn’t dial out.

  ‘Damn it,’ she muttered. Damn, damn, damn, that crazy bitch. Well, she’d have to find the kids before their mother got to them. ‘Jonah, Julia,’ she whispered into the room. ‘It’s me, Darcy.’

  She dropped to her knees to look under the bed, then quickly scrambled over to the wardrobe, biting her lip as she opened the door as quietly as she could.

  The interior was empty – no twins.

  She ran to the door and peeked out. She couldn’t see anyone, but she could hear the doors slamming and things being thrown around downstairs as Ava went from room to room.

  She crept down the hall, cracking open one door after another and quickly searching the rooms. She paused at the door to the room she’d slept in, and cautiously stepped inside, glancing briefly back down the hall towards the stairs.

  ‘Jonah, Julia,’ she whispered as she padded up to the wardrobe. ‘Are you in here?’

  There was a muffled movement, and the valance on the lower frame of the bed shifted. Julia stuck her head out and peered up at her. ‘We’re here.’

  Jonah crawled out from underneath the bed. ‘Where’s Mama?’

  Darcy beckoned them over to her, edging towards the door. ‘Uh, we’re playing hide and seek with her,’ she lied in a whisper, and peeked round the door and down the hall.

  Crap. Ava’s head appeared at the top of the stairs, and she looked around the upstairs hall with wild eyes, the knife long and wickedly sharp in her hand. Blood covered her mouth and chin and her skin was an angry red from the boiled water Darcy had thrown at her. Darcy jerked back and held a finger to her lips.

  Jonah and Julia stared back at her, their blue eyes wide with fear and something else – trust. After everything she’d been through, the men who’d come after her with guns and knives, this was the most frightening. Then, she’d just had to look after her own hide. No matter how scared she’d been, no matter how threatened, or how hurt, knowing she was what stood between these two precious children and their psychopathic mother was the most frightening experience of all. She was responsible for their survival.

  She urged the children over to the en suite, holding her fingers to her lips. The kids – wonderful darlings – did exactly as she indicated, running silently into the bathroom.

  Closing the door quickly but quietly behind her, she fumbled with the lock. It was the kind where you depressed a latch on the rim. She pressed it, then took a step back. Damn, that looked flimsy. It was the same kind of lock on the bathroom at her father’s home, and she knew how easy it was to crack. She and her brother Hugh had done it all the time. All you needed was something thin and flat – like a blade – to slide underneath the rim catch on the other side. Ava had the perfect tool.

  Darcy looked around. The hiding spots in the bathroom were limited to the bathtub and the shower with a see-through screen. Neither was a good option.

  She crossed to the window and pulled it open. It was slim, placed quite high above the toilet. She climbed up and looked out. The ground floor roof stretched out below, and from what she could see, fronted onto a section of the driveway.

  ‘Come here,’ she whispered over her shoulder as she fumbled with the window screen. The damn thing wasn’t like a normal screen, but she eventually managed to get it to pop out. She winced at the noise it made as it clattered on the roof tiles. Ava would have to be deaf not to hear t
hat.

  She turned and smiled at the kids. ‘Okay, who’s first?’

  Dom halted at the door to the meeting room and looked at Fuller. ‘I want Blewitt held without bail, and I want him charged with everything you can think of.’

  Fuller nodded. ‘Don’t worry. The courts don’t look at all kindly on malicious acts like letter bombs. He’ll be remanded until trial.’ The detective opened the door, and Dom stepped out into the hall just as Tony Blewitt was exiting a room further along the corridor, handcuffed and miserable.

  Dom frowned when he saw the man.

  ‘Jesus,’ Alex breathed next to him. ‘That’s hideous.’

  Blewitt looked like he’d dipped his face in acid, the skin on his nose and chin looking irritated and red, the wounds open and seeping. Dark circles ringed his eyes, and his hair stood up in angry tufts.

  As soon as Blewitt registered Dom’s presence, his shoulders sagged, eyes downcast as he was led past him.

  ‘What the hell happened to his face?’ Alex asked, stunned.

  ‘Apparently he has an allergy to acetone,’ Fuller answered.

  Dom frowned. ‘Acetone?’ What the hell was Blewitt doing dunking his face in acetone? He shook his head and held up a hand. ‘I don’t want to know.’ That was just the start of the hell that was going to rain down on the man.

  ‘What about the guy from last night? What’s going to happen to him?’

  ‘He’ll have a bedside hearing, but we believe he is a hired gun, so we’re hoping he’ll give up his employer. Either way, he’s going to prison for a hell of a long time. Someone from the Fire Investigation and Rescue Unit called through – he’s got some arson charges pending, too.’

  Alex’s phone beeped and he pulled it out of his pocket, frowning. ‘We have to go. That’s your alarm, Dom. We have a breach, upstairs window, west side.’

  They strode through the office towards the main doors.

  ‘Do you have any cars in the area?’ Alex asked.

  Fuller indicated with his thumb over his shoulder. ‘I’ll head down to the radio room and get some units out there.’

  ‘What kind of breach?’ Dom said.