All the Lost Girls

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All the Lost Girls Page 22

by Bilinda P Sheehan


  Rob grinned at me, wincing as the movement stretched the cut on his lip.

  "Long time no see," he said amicably, pushing up from the booth He reached out toward me awkwardly, dragging me in against his chest in a bear hug.

  "You know he's never forgotten you," Sarah blathered on as Rob released me. "I think you were his first love."

  Heat marched up over my neck and threatened to crawl onto my cheeks.

  "I was eight," Rob said, quickly. "I didn't know what love was."

  "Still don't," Sarah quipped back. She gave him a gently shove and Rob's face coloured as he ducked his head.

  "Little, Robbie, is getting married," she said, turning back to face me.

  "Congratulations." I shot him a smile as he raised his hand and scrubbed it over the back of his neck self-consciously.

  "Thanks. Can't believe it myself."

  "It's so weird," Sarah said. "It feels like yesterday when I was babysitting the two of you together."

  Dick brushed past me, his hand lingering on the small of my back a little longer than was strictly necessary. He climbed into the booth, moving around so there was room for us all.

  I let Sarah go next.

  Declan raised an eyebrow when I didn't slide in next to Sarah. As though he could read my discomfort he followed her instead, leaving me to sit on the outside. If I needed to I could always make a hasty escape.

  "I hope the other guy looks worse," Declan said, gesturing toward Rob with his pint.

  "No, I—”

  Before Rob could even get the words out, Dick reached over to him and wrapped his thick meaty arm around his neck, jerking his head down toward his lap. Inwardly I cringed. It looked more than a little uncomfortable.

  Rob fought Dick's hold but the other man was a lot bigger, his arms flexing as he held Rob easily pinned in place.

  "Little, Robbie, here couldn't fight his way out of a wet paper bag," Dick said with a toothy smile. "The two of us had a little disagreement after a few pints."

  "It was harmless really," Sarah said quickly. "Over as soon as it started."

  She touched Dick's arm and he released Rob. He bolted upright, his face bright red, the bruises blending with the colour of his humiliation. When Rob stared at Dick, I could have sworn that what I saw reflected in his eyes then was pure hatred.

  "Isn't that right, Robbie?" Sarah directed her question toward her brother, steel in her voice.

  He jerked as though her words had formed themselves into a hand to strike him and stared at her a moment before answering.

  "Yeah," he said softly. "Totally stupid. Meant nothing." Robert pushed up from his chair and gulped down the last of his pint. "I've got to go. Got an early start in the morning." He smiled at me. "It was really good to see you again, Alice."

  "Right back atcha." I returned his smile with a warm one of my own. As he walked away, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was missing something. There was definitely no love lost between Robert and his brother in law. But his sister had the same hold on him today that she'd had on him when he was eight years old.

  "I'm going to the ladies," I said, hopping to my feet.

  "I'll come with you," Sarah said quickly, halting me before I could even take one step away from the table. Climbing out over Dick, she joined me, wrapping her arm through mine. Was I being paranoid or was there a tightness to her grip that hadn't been there before?

  "It'll be just like it used to be," she said excitement in her voice.

  We crossed the pub together. Sarah leaning in toward me as we walked. "It used to be like this with Clara," she said. "We used to do everything together."

  With my free hand I pushed open the bathroom door and smiled at the woman who hurried out.

  Sarah slipped out of my grip and headed for the cubicle. "You coming?"

  The last time I'd shared a cubicle with another woman, I'd been fifteen. It had made me uncomfortable and I had no intention of repeating the action.

  Shaking my head, I turned my back as she disappeared inside.

  Pressing my palms to the sink attached to the wall, I dug my fingers in against the unyielding porcelain basin and closed my eyes.

  This had been a good idea when it was just Declan and me. With Sarah and her creep of a husband, things had suddenly become overbearing. I supposed I could just leave. It would be easy and I was almost certain Declan would come with me. We could just slip away together...

  What was I thinking?

  "How are you coping at home?" Sarah's voice drifted over the top of the stall to me and I jolted. She'd been so silent, I'd nearly forgotten she was there.

  "Fine." My answer was short. The last thing I wanted to do was go into the problems I was having at home. No matter how close we had once been, Sarah was now a stranger to me. Too much time had passed and we'd both changed. There were some things you couldn't return to, no matter how much you might want to.

  "That's not entirely true," she said gently reminding me of the way she would talk to me when I was a kid who had told her a lie.

  The flush of the toilet told me she was finished. I twisted the tap, the flow of the water giving me something to concentrate on. Grabbing a palmful of water, I splashed it up onto my face, using the shock of the cold to snap me out the painful reverie I'd been heading into.

  As she exited the cubicle, I hit myself with another splash of water. Choosing to blind myself than meet the reproachful look I knew I would find in her eyes.

  Blinking away the water from my lashes, I found myself side by side with her as she washed her hands

  "You can always talk to me," she said. "You always could."

  I nodded and glanced down toward her arms. "It goes both ways, you know?"

  She snatched her hands back from beneath the flow of water and adjusted her sleeves. "What do you mean?"

  I'd let Rachel down. I'd failed to see the signs. Zoe had very nearly lost her life in the process. I couldn't let that happen again.

  "How did you get the bruises?"

  "I don't know what you're talking about," Sarah blathered, turning her back to me.

  "Yes, you do." I reached out to her and then thought better of it. People who were abused rarely liked to be touched without their consent. "The bruises on your arms, Sarah. I saw them earlier." I paused. There was no doubt in my mind that she would have some story ready to explain them away. It was probably easier for her to pretend than to face the truth.

  "Oh those," she said, her relief a little too convenient. "I caught my arm in the car door. Clumsy me." The edge to her words told me to back off but as she stood there with her back to me, all I could see was the terrified look in Rachel's eyes when she'd told me Zoe was gone.

  "Does he hurt, Ali?"

  If I had hit Sarah her reaction then might have been understandable. She jerked as though a jolt of electricity had shot through her body.

  "Why would you say that?" Her voice was small, meek, and nothing like the woman she had been just moments before.

  "Because it stands to reason if he's abusing you, then your daughter is next. If he hasn't started already."

  "I wouldn't let him..." her voice choked off. She turned toward me, her face a mask of anguish. Her cheeks were sunken, gaunt. Her eyes were haunted as she searched my face. The circles I'd noticed beneath her eyes earlier had deepened making me think she didn't get a whole lot of sleep.

  "You need to speak to the police, Sarah, you need—"

  She grabbed my arm, her nails digging into the flesh of my forearm as she clung to me. "Please don't say anything." There was a panic to her voice that I hadn't expected.

  "Sarah, you need—"

  She shook her head so violently I was concerned she might snap it clean off her neck. Taking her hand in mine, I wrapped my fingers through hers.

  "We can do this together," I said. "I can help you get away from him, Sarah. Help you make a clean break. Help you protect, Ali, and—"

  Something switched inside her. I saw it the mo
ment it happened, like a light switch had been flicked on inside her head.

  Sarah's spine straightened, drawing her shoulders back up. She released her hold on me and took a step backwards. She appraised me with a cool gaze, her eyes shuttered so that I could no longer read the turmoil I'd only glimpsed a moment before.

  "I think you're mistaken," she said. "Dick would never lay a finger on us."

  "I've seen the bruises, Sarah," I said. "You need to get yourself and your daughter away from him. I know how these things work out and—"

  "You're wrong." Her tone was brusque and businesslike.

  It was like standing next to a completely different person. How had I misread the situation so badly?

  "If I ever hear you spreading such malicious lies again..." She trailed off and dropped her gaze to the floor.

  I watched as she sucked in a deep breath and raised her face once more. "I thought you were better than this, Alice." She shook her head. "But you're just like your sister. Both of you jealous, utterly and completely, bitterly jealous." She turned back to the door, leaving me to stand alone in the centre of the bathroom.

  Was she delusional, and what the hell did she mean that I was just like Clara. That we were both just jealous of her?

  "Sarah, I—"

  She paused with her back to me. "I think you should stay away from me, Alice." I detected the same hint of steel in her voice that there had been when she spoke to her brother. "Just like your sister, your lies are poisonous and I don't need that near my family."

  She left, the door swinging shut in her wake.

  "What the fuck was that?" I spoke to the empty air and I wasn't surprised when there was no answer.

  44

  I waited a few minutes. Was I giving her time to get back to the table? Or was I hiding?

  I didn't have the answer to either question. The answers were there, somewhere in my head, but I just refused to go digging about for them. It wasn't as though knowing the truth either way would help.

  Leaving the bathroom, I practically ran into Declan. He stood, his shoulder leaning against the wall next to the door. Before I could bump into him, he caught me. His strong hands warm against the top of my arms. His heat radiated down through the thin jumper I wore. What would it feel like to have his hands on my bare skin?

  I batted the question away as quickly as it entered my head.

  "Sorry." I glanced up into his face and found him studying me. "I didn't see you."

  "What's up?"

  My brain felt like it was swimming in molasses, the inner workings and thought processes slowed to a crawl.

  "You look upset," he said. "What's wrong?" As though he could read me as easily as picking up a book and scanning its pages, there was no denying the concern in his eyes.

  It would be so easy to tell him. To spill everything to him. Declan was the kind of guy you could talk to, share your darkest secrets without fear of reproach. If there was anyone on this earth who could understand the confused muddle of thoughts in my brain, it was definitely him. And I wanted to tell him. I wanted to spill the truth and feel his arms around me.

  My breath caught in the back of my throat.

  "I think I'm just tired." The lie tripped off my tongue. It would be too easy to tell him everything. To slip into his arms, take comfort from him however he wanted to give it.

  But I couldn't do it. As much as I wanted it, there was no way I could let him in. We didn't belong in each other's lives. Not anymore anyway.

  "Sarah said you were upset..."

  Her secrets were not mine to tell and as much as I wanted to tell him the truth, there was no way for me to do it while preserving her story.

  "I'm fine." He looked unconvinced. "Really, there's nothing wrong with me, aside from being tired." I found myself wanting to convince him.

  Declan's expression relaxed into a smile. "Want me to take you home?"

  "Yeah, I think that's wise."

  His smile broke down into a grin. "Didn't think I'd ever see the day when you became a lightweight."

  "That's not what this is," I said, returning his grin with one of my own. "I—"

  Declan dipped his face. His breath hot against my cheeks as his lips brushed mine. The kiss sealed the air in my lungs. The press of his mouth igniting a need inside me I'd long thought dead.

  So much time had passed between us. A lifetime.

  He pulled back, his eyes searching mine. "I regretted not doing that the night you left."

  Shock riveted me to the ground. "That was years ago..."

  He shrugged. "I know. Thought I'd take the chance while I’ve got it."

  "Why didn't you say anything?"

  "Because you were dealing with so much... I thought if I told you then how I felt you'd feel like I was trying to stop you from going." He sucked in a deep breath and closed his eyes. "And I know you needed to go, Alice. I know it now too..."

  I opened my mouth but the words spinning around inside my head refused to form coherent sentences.

  How was it possible that he knew more about what I needed, than I did myself? Because as soon as he'd said it, I knew he was right.

  I didn't belong here anymore. All it was doing was tearing old wounds wide open. Ripping wide scar tissue I'd thought long since healed.

  "You don't need to say a thing." He cupped my cheek with his hand, the touch of his fingers gentle. "I know this place is painful for you."

  "Why are you telling me all this now?"

  "Because I didn't want you to go running back to England again without at least knowing how I felt. Because I wanted you to know that not everything here needs to be painful."

  He pressed his forehead to mine, drawing me closer into his embrace. I let him hold me. Enjoying the feel of his strong arms around my body. It had been so long since I had felt as safe as I felt in his arms.

  Guilt slammed into me. Here I was enjoying myself, enjoying the feel of Declan's arms around me while Clara was...

  I'd once sworn I would give up the guilt I felt over my sister. Letting go of her hand was my biggest regret. I had so many regrets over that night but that one in particular was definitely the one that hurt the most.

  And for so long after she'd been taken, I'd held onto it.

  "I can't do this," I said struggling to free myself from his hold.

  "What is it? What's wrong?" The confusion in Declan's voice was overlain by his hurt over my rejection.

  "I just can't, not now..."

  "Alice, I—"

  I shook my head. "Please, don't. I already feel terrible."

  Whatever he was about to say, he bit the words back. His face twisted into a grimace as he swallowed them.

  "I'll take you home."

  "Declan, I'm sorry."

  "There's nothing to be sorry about." His tone was clipped, his face cold and impassive. I'd screwed up royally but how could I explain it to him?

  How could I tell him that while I wanted what he was offering, there was a part of me-a very large part—that didn't feel like I deserved what he was willing to give?

  How could I take the safety he offered when the guilt over Clara's abduction weighed so heavily on my mind?

  I'd thought I could atone for my failures of that night by working with other vulnerable people. Thought I could protect them the way I'd failed to protect Clara. And even at that, I'd failed.

  I'd let Rachel and Zoe slip through the cracks. Allowed their husband to wheedle his way back in.

  Of course I knew it was stupid to believe I could stop bad things from happening to other people. Foolish to believe that I could somehow 'make-up' for my past mistakes. The past was just that, past. It couldn't be changed. No matter how many people I tried to help, it wouldn't bring Clara back. Nothing would.

  "Thanks." I nodded, biting down on the inside of my mouth to keep from spilling my tumultuous thoughts out at his feet.

  The guilt I felt over Clara's abduction was also stupid. I'd been a kid, lucky to escape myself
. But knowing this hadn't eased my true feelings. No matter how many times I told myself I wasn't to blame, I still felt it.

  We reached his truck and I climbed in. Watching from the corner of my eye as he slid into the driver's seat next to me.

  The rumble of the engine as it started vibrated up through the seats before it settled into a familiar purr.

  If I told him, he would tell me it wasn't my fault. He would convince me that I wasn't to blame for Clara. And part of me knew that I would believe him. That if I told him, he would help to wash the stain of her abduction from my soul.

  As much as I wanted that, I couldn't do it. It felt too much like letting go. By letting Declan's understanding heal me, I would be letting Clara down all over again.

  And I couldn't do it to her. Not again. She was mine to carry. I'd let her go once and the feel of her fingers slipping from mine would haunt me for the rest of my life. If I let her go now... Then she would be really gone.

  The rational part of me said it wasn't a betrayal. But the emotional side of me just didn't believe it.

  Dress it up however you like. At the end of the day, no matter the shape it came in, it was still a betrayal.

  45

  "Siobhan," Claire said before she corrected herself. "I mean, Detective Geraghty. I think I've got something here." The excitement in her voice got me out of my chair and halfway across the small room before she'd finished speaking.

  "What is it?"

  "I went back through the records for vans at the time."

  "I thought the list was too big to throw up anything valuable?"

  "It is," she said. "If we have no idea what we're looking for. But when I input the name Barry Donnelly, there was a hit."

  My brain felt as though it had been turned to mush and I stared at her in confusion. "Barry Donnelly?"

  "Liam Donnelly's father," she said, unable to contain her elation. "He had a white van at the time of Clara's disappearance that matches the description Alice McCarthy gave at the time."

  I stared at the blinking cursor next to the entry on the screen.

 

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