Only Lies Remain: A Psychological Thriller

by Val Collins

  ‘Aoife, you don’t mean that. You—’

  ‘Get out.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I want you out of this house. Now. Don’t pack your things. I’ll send them on.’

  ‘Where will I go?’

  ‘I don’t give a damn. Use your twenty-two thousand, nine hundred and fourteen euros to rent a hotel room. Go on a world cruise for all I care, just get out of my sight right now.’

  *

  The locksmith was pulling out of the driveway when Maura arrived.

  ‘I wondered how long it would be before you turned up. He went running back to Mummy, did he?’

  ‘You changed the locks?’

  ‘Yes.’ She stopped herself from saying, “And you’re not going to be my emergency keyholder any longer either.”

  ‘Can I come in, Aoife? Just for a minute? I don’t blame you for being angry. I’m furious myself. I’ve been giving Jason money, you know. And it’s not like I can afford it.’

  Aoife felt her rage lessen.

  ‘I’m sorry, Maura. I didn’t mean to take it out on you. Of course you can come in. How much money did you give him?’

  ‘Five hundred euros a month since you separated. He said he’ll pay it back. Claims he never wanted it in the first place and that it was I who insisted on giving it to him.’

  ‘Did you?’

  ‘Yes, but only because he told me all his money went to you and the credit card company. He even had the cheek to tell me he hadn’t lied to me because most of his money actually was going to the credit card company. I had to get out of the house before I strangled him.’ She perched on a kitchen stool. ‘How are you doing?’

  ‘You mean am I having second thoughts? No, Maura. I’m not. I let you talk me into giving our marriage a second chance last year. I won’t make that mistake again. Our relationship is over. I gave him every chance. Now I’m done with him. End of.’

  ‘Well, I had to try. He’s still my son.’

  ‘And he’s still Amy’s father. You’re still her grandmother. I want her to have a good relationship with both of you. I just can’t see him for a while.’

  ‘We’ll sort something out, Aoife. You’re not the first couple to split up. Everything will work out in the end.’

  *

  Much as she had wanted Jason to move out, the house felt weird without him. She couldn’t phone Orla again. Orla needed to get away from everything. She’d put her own grief aside when Aoife needed her, but it would be a long time before she got over Tadhg’s death. If she and Cian were going to last, they needed time together without Aoife bothering them with her problems. The good thing about them being abroad was Aoife could now work from home. It meant she didn’t have to find childcare for Amy. It also meant she hadn’t spoken to another adult in the four days since Maura’s visit. Or left the house.

  She looked out at Amy, who was running up and down the back garden, chasing a butterfly. It wasn’t fair to keep her cooped up. A trip to the playground ought to be safe enough. Maybe Alison would come too. She could do with some adult company.

  *

  Alison hadn’t been home and she wasn’t answering her phone, so Aoife stood in the almost-deserted playground and pushed Amy on the baby swing. She was going to have to buy a swing set. Another thing she’d been putting off because she’d thought they had no money. Her blood pressure started to rise, and she took deep breaths to calm herself.

  She eventually coaxed Amy off the swing, and they were walking home when a car pulled up beside them.

  ‘Can I give you a lift?’

  ‘No, thank you, Detective.’

  ‘Moaney!’ Amy cried, struggling to get out of the stroller.

  ‘Hi, Amy.’ Moaney parked the car and joined them. ‘Okay if I walk with you?’

  ‘It’s a public road, Detective. You can walk wherever you like.’

  ‘Have I done something to annoy you, Aoife? I thought we were becoming friends.’

  ‘You haven’t annoyed me, and I don’t mean to be unfriendly, but I have to think of Amy’s best interests and I won’t allow anyone to question her.’

  ‘I heard about a woman who’s very experienced in interviewing young children. Amy wouldn’t be upset. I wouldn’t even suggest this if I thought there was the slightest chance that could happen.’

  Talking over Amy’s loud protests at being confined to the stroller, Aoife said, ‘Detective, I’ve made up my mind and you can’t talk me out of it.’

  ‘I think you’re making a mistake.’

  Aoife didn’t reply. She walked a little faster but Moaney easily kept pace. Amy was now bawling. Aoife lifted her from the stroller. Amy held her hands out to Moaney.

  Moaney tickled her under the chin, which made Amy more determined to get to him. Her entire body arched away from Aoife. Aoife tried to put her back in the stroller, but Amy locked all her muscles. ‘Amy, stop it!’

  ‘Let me help.’

  ‘No. We’d be fine if you’d just leave us alone.’

  ‘Aoife, please.’

  He leaned towards Amy, whose screeches were now so loud they were attracting the attention of passers-by. Aoife stepped away to allow him to pick her up.

  ‘Horsy, horsy!’ a delighted Amy demanded.

  Damn it. She should have known that was what Amy wanted. Moaney put Amy on his shoulders and ran a few steps down the road. He came back immediately.

  ‘More! More!’

  Moaney ran down the street again, taking small hops into the air every few minutes. He looked ridiculous. Aoife couldn’t help smiling. He kept it up the entire way to their front door, running slightly ahead, then running back, never getting more than a few feet ahead of her.

  ‘Horsy is tired now,’ Aoife said when they reached the front door. Moaney put Amy on the ground and she raced into the house. ‘Thank you,’ Aoife said. ‘Amy enjoyed that.’

  ‘I think she might turn out to be a showjumper.’

  ‘I hope not. That’s a really expensive hobby.’ Aoife stood, waiting for him to leave.

  Amy came running out to the hall with her sippy cup. ‘Drink!’ Moaney grinned and bent down to take the cup from her. He took a sip.

  ‘More!’

  ‘I think this particular horsy would prefer coffee.’ Aoife took the cup from the detective. ‘Will you help me make some coffee, Amy?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  Amy ran ahead into the kitchen and Moaney and Aoife followed.

  Amy handed the coffee to Aoife. Aoife turned on the percolator, then went into the sitting room and switched on the TV. For good measure, she handed Amy a packet of chocolate stars and left her sitting in front of her favourite movie. Leaving the interconnecting door open, Aoife re-joined Moaney in the kitchen.

  ‘She’s soon going to associate you with TV and sweeties. She’ll insist you come home with us every time she sees you.’

  ‘I can think of worse things to do with my time.’

  ‘You’re great with kids. Your son is very lucky.’

  ‘I doubt he’d agree with you. He’s at the “my dad is an idiot” stage.’

  ‘I suppose they all go through that. Is it just you, or is he the same with his mother?’

  ‘He has a better relationship with Katie. It helps that she’s a lot more easy-going.’

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘Well, take our latest problem. I want Blaine to choose sensible subjects for his O levels. Katie says let him do whatever interests him.’

  ‘Why is he doing O levels? Doesn’t he live in Ireland?’

  ‘No, he and Katie live in England.’

  ‘I didn’t realise you were divorced.’

  ‘We’re not. We never married. It’s an odd situation. I worry what effect it’s having on Blaine, but he seems to be handling it okay.’

  ‘I worry about Amy too. When Jason and I split up, I thought—’

  ‘You split up from your husband? When?’

  ‘Last year.’

  ‘He doesn’t live h
ere?’

  ‘No. He moved out when we split up, but then he moved into the spare room for economic reasons. He moved out again yesterday. I have an appointment with a lawyer next week to get the divorce started.’

  ‘I’m sorry. That must be difficult.’

  ‘It was very hard when we first split up, but this sharing a house wasn’t working. A divorce is best for everyone. It’s like they say: “Marry in haste, repent in leisure”.’

  ‘Is that what your parents said when you told them you were getting married?’

  ‘No. My parents died in a car crash when I was eighteen. I don’t think Jason and I would ever have got together if they’d lived. I felt so alone after their death and Jason was the only person who seemed to understand.’ She gave an embarrassed smile. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to bore you with my life story. How did your parents react to the news that you were going to be a teenage parent?’

  ‘They didn’t know. I didn’t know myself until Blaine was seven. When my holiday was over I had to go home. Katie continued her world tour. We stayed in touch for a few weeks, but when she found out she was pregnant, she cut off all contact and went back to Australia. I doubt she would have told me at all if it wasn’t for her husband. When she got pregnant with their child, he insisted she tell me about Blaine.’

  ‘That must have been a shock.’

  ‘Completely changed my life. I wasn’t long out of college, drifting around without any real plans, and suddenly I’m the father of a seven-year-old. I joined the police force a few months later.’

  ‘Were you angry she hadn’t told you?’

  ‘Not at first. I was just shocked. Later, as I got to know Blaine, I really resented that I’d missed seven years of his life.’

  ‘Why did she keep it a secret?’

  ‘She said I was only a teenager and I lived in Ireland. When she married an English guy, she and Blaine moved countries. It made custody less problematic. She’d been afraid of ending up in a custody battle with someone living in a different continent.’

  ‘Well, I can see that would be a problem. Still—’

  ‘Yeah, well, it’s done now. Holding a grudge won’t change anything.’ He paused. They sat in what Aoife thought was a companionable silence until the detective said, ‘Aoife, why won’t you allow Amy to be interviewed?’

  Aoife stiffened. ‘I already explained my decision.’

  ‘There’s something you’re not telling me.’

  The doorbell rang and Aoife jumped up. ‘That’s probably Alison.’

  *

  Alison explained that she’d been in town when Aoife had phoned, and they agreed to talk later. After closing the door, Aoife leaned her back against it, trying to think of a plausible explanation that would satisfy Moaney. She could hear him in the sitting room chatting with Amy.

  ‘Amy, I have a really nice friend who wants to meet you. Would you like that?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  Amy felt her blood boil. How dare he!

  She threw open the sitting room door.

  ‘Detective, could I speak to you for a moment, please?’

  He joined her in the corridor. ‘Aoife, I only asked—’

  Aoife opened the front door.

  ‘Leave now, please.’

  ‘What? All I said was—’

  ‘Detective Moloney, if you want to enter my house again, you will need a search warrant. If you want to speak to me, you will need to place me under arrest. Unless you’re prepared to do either or both of those things right now, leave my house this instant.’

  The detective took one step outside the door. He turned to face her. ‘Aoife—’

  She shut the door in his face.

  FORTY-ONE

  Mrs Weston visited Aoife a few days after Amy’s return. She took full responsibility for the incident, explained the procedures she had implemented to ensure nothing like that could ever happen again and offered Aoife six months’ free childcare. She didn’t seem surprised when Aoife refused.

  Aoife tried to settle into a post-crèche routine. She had hoped Cian would allow her to bring Amy to work. He didn’t. ‘I’m sorry, Aoife but this house isn’t set up for a child. I have to take down paintings from time to time. I can’t be worrying a kid will get her hands on them. And you can see for yourself all the expensive furniture.’ He pointed at a corner of his office. ‘That lamp alone cost more than your yearly salary. It just wouldn’t work.’

  As a compromise, Cian agreed Aoife could work from home one day a week, which effectively meant she worked from Amy’s bedtime until 2 a.m., but it was better than nothing. Alison agreed to take payment for one day’s childcare and Maura took Amy on her day off. Alison didn’t know about the threat Aoife had received, but she knew the man who had stolen Amy hadn’t yet been apprehended. She kept a very close eye on both Amy and her own kids and never allowed any of them out of her sight. Aoife told Maura that Amy was going through a stage of running away and was getting good at opening doors. Maura immediately had bolts put on all her doors and promised she would watch Amy carefully.

  Aoife was able to return to her job at the halfway house. She felt guilty about the way she’d been treating Jack. She hadn’t been able to go to work the previous week because she still hadn’t sorted out her childcare arrangements. Jack would have understood if she’d told him about Amy’s disappearance, but she couldn’t do that. She didn’t want Maura to know. Maura would insist on telling Jason, and Jason would find some way of using it against her. For the first time ever, she’d lied to an employer and said she was sick. The guilt was eating away at her. It seemed a particularly dreadful thing to do when he’d been so understanding about Amy’s illness and while he was still struggling with his grief.

  Jack rarely came to the halfway house anymore. On the two occasions she’d seen him since Tadhg’s death, he’d been very subdued. Maura said he’d lost all interest in the charity and that on the odd day he came into the office, he spent his time staring into space. There was a growing pile of papers on his desk marked “Urgent” which he completely ignored.

  Aoife was halfway through her day when she took some papers into Jack’s office. She jumped. ‘God, Jack, you frightened me. I didn’t hear you come in.’

  ‘I’ve been here since seven a.m.’ He pointed at the pile of papers he was working his way through. ‘I’m a little behind.’

  He seemed almost like his old self. The strain was gone from his face. He appeared rested. There was no sign of the cigarettes he puffed constantly when he was under stress. Most surprisingly of all, he was smiling at her.

  ‘It’s good to see you looking so much better, Jack.’

  Jack’s phone rang and he glanced at it. ‘That’s Orla. She came here yesterday and insisted I go to lunch with her. When I refused, she sat in that chair and said she wasn’t leaving without me.’

  ‘Oh no! Do you want me to have a word with her?’

  Jack shrugged. ‘I don’t think you could keep her away. She’s decided Tadhg would have wanted her to take care of me. I have a feeling once Orla makes up her mind, it’s not easily changed.’

  ‘I could try.’

  ‘There’s no need. I finally gave in and I quite enjoyed our lunch. I’ve decided Orla will be the exception to my “no women” policy. I like having her around. She reminds me a little of Tadhg—quite unique. It’s no wonder she turned Tadhg’s head. If Orla had been around when I was eighteen, she’d have turned my head as well. I might never have become a priest.’

  ‘Really?’

  He laughed ‘No, I’m joking. The decision to become a priest was made for me when I was nine. I was barely aware women existed.’

  ‘Nine! That’s crazy.’

  ‘It wasn’t unusual in my day. Those of us who didn’t come from money had very few choices. Free education ended at fourteen. If you were any way bright, you were shoved into the priesthood.’

  ‘Because the priests paid for your education?’

  ‘Partly, but a
lso because it was considered a huge honour. Hard though it is to believe now, I was considered one of the lucky ones.’

  ‘Did your mother agree?’

  ‘To my mother, and indeed to most people back then, priests were like gods. She’d had a terrible few years, and in her mind, this was God’s way of making everything okay.’

  ‘It must have been hard on her when your father died so young.’

  ‘It was, but things got a lot worse when my father’s family threw us off the farm.’

  ‘They left you homeless?’

  Jack nodded.

  ‘I cannot believe the things people will do for money. You were their flesh and blood.’

  ‘Those few worthless acres in the middle of nowhere meant far more to them. Their family had farmed the land since at least the 1700s, probably a lot earlier. They’d managed to hang in there during the famine, bought it from the landlord when the Land Acts were introduced, survived the Great Depression and all the depressions since. They had no intention of letting it fall into the hands of someone like my mother.’

  ‘Why didn’t they like her?’

  ‘Have you ever heard the saying “she came with both arms swinging”?’

  Aoife shook her head.

  ‘It’s what farmers used to say about people like my mother who brought nothing to the marriage. No land, no money. In other words, completely worthless. The family couldn’t wait to get rid of her.’

  ‘And there was nothing your mum could do?’

  ‘Nothing at all. It was quite common before the law was changed to allow women an automatic right to a portion of their dead husbands’ property. Nobody cared about people like us. That’s partly the reason I set up this charity. For all its faults, the Church ensured I didn’t starve. Nobody else cares if these guys end up on the street or die in an alley like Tadhg.’

  ‘Tadhg often said what a great person you were.’

  Jack grunted. ‘For all the good I did him.’

  ‘You tried and he appreciated it.’

  ‘Clearly I didn’t try hard enough. I’m delaying you, Aoife. I’m sorry. I’m sure you have a lot of work.’

  He turned his back on her and walked to the window. Aoife saw him raise his hand to his eyes. She was pretty sure he was wiping away tears.