Her White Lie

by Jackie Walsh

  Nothing more was said in the café about the dead body. The story seems to be old news now. The latest shocking event is that of a man who drove himself and his two kids into the sea. Their bodies were recovered early this morning by search and rescue. Both anger and sympathy were expressed by people the tragedy doesn’t directly affect. I bet he gets no sympathy from the mother of the two kids.

  My step is quick as I walk down the quays. I want to get home before Lucas leaves to go to the hire shop. I need to make sure he’s clear about what he has to order.

  The black waters of the river Liffey glisten to my right. It’s already dark and it’s only 5.30 p.m. It won’t be like that in Australia.

  In front of me, a young man stumbles. He’s out of his head on drugs or drink. His clothes look like they belong to someone else. They’re hanging off him. When I get closer he stops and falls against the wall of the river, struggling to stay standing. The poor unfortunate guy holds out his hand and slurs something. I probably shouldn’t because this is a hotspot for muggings but I reach into my bag and pull out whatever coins I can find. His eyes are focused on my moving hand. I don’t know how much it is but I give it to him and watch him wobble as he takes it.

  ‘Thanks very much, Miss,’ he mumbles. I smile at him, and whisper to myself the words I say every time. The words my mother taught me when I was very young. ‘And there but for the grace of God, go I.’ Then I pull my bag closer and walk towards O’Connell Bridge and on to my apartment block.

  I’m too late, Lucas has already left. Never mind. I’m sure he’ll do okay. After I replace my office clothes with a tracksuit, I switch on the TV and plonk myself down on the sofa with a glass of wine. I have nothing to do tonight so I flick through Netflix in the hope of finding something I can get lost in. Something to kill a few hours when I don’t have to think of dresses, or cakes, or flowers or dead bodies. I keep my phone at my side in case Faye rings back because I don’t want to miss her call again, even though I’m nervous about what she has to say about me staying in touch with Andriu.

  Nothing on Netflix is convincing me to watch it, so I flick off the TV and close my eyes. I’m tired. I would love nothing more than a full night’s sleep.

  A short time later the ringing of my phone jolts me back to consciousness. It’s Faye.

  ‘How is he?’ she says, straight away, without leading into it.

  ‘Andriu?’

  ‘Yes Andriu, how is he?’

  I shouldn’t be surprised that’s her first question. She got quite a shock when she heard I was still in touch with him. Faye probably thought she’d never hear or see from Andriu again. She was very much in love with him. I remember that much. They seemed like the perfect couple. Not all hugs and kisses and get-a-room kind of couple, which, as the third wheel on the bicycle, would have probably made my life hell. It was more the way they really seemed to care about one another that impressed me. They planned everything around what the other person liked. I never once heard them fighting until that dreadful night.

  I tried to ask him once what had happened but he brushed me off, telling me Faye had changed. I told him Faye was heartbroken over what he’d done but he didn’t respond.

  ‘I guess he’s alright; I haven’t actually met him since he left. I’m not sure he’s even been to Dublin since.’

  ‘Well why are you meeting him next week, then?’

  ‘He’s coming to my wedding.’

  ‘You’re getting married?’

  ‘Yes.’

  There’s silence for a moment. Faye is trying to digest the information.

  ‘Oh Tara, that’s wonderful, I didn’t know and here’s me waffling on. Who are you marrying? Do I know him?’ Faye’s voice is lighter, happier, reminding me of how she used to sound when I had some good news to share with her. I’m not sure if she’s just being polite or if she really is happy for me because Faye was always able to pretend. Unlike me. Faye used to say I was easier to read than a book and that I should learn how to wear a mask in case someday I needed it. Which I did.

  ‘No you don’t, his name is Lucas, he’s from Australia but he’s been living here the past two years because of work.’

  ‘Well congratulations, Tara, maybe I’ll meet him sometime.’

  ‘If you like you could—’ I’m about to suggest she could come to the wedding. It would really make my day to be reunited with my best friend on my wedding day. But that’s not why she’s on the phone and I very much doubt she’d want to be in the same room as Andriu.

  ‘No, no, no.’ She stops me before I finish. ‘After the wedding sometime, maybe. When this Huntley Lodge business goes away.’ When she mentions the name, my shoulders immediately slump. I don’t want to think about that now but I know that’s the only reason Faye Connolly is on the phone.

  ‘Say hello to him for me,’ she says.

  ‘Lucas?’

  ‘No, Andriu. Say hello to Andriu for me.’

  ‘I will.’ There’s a slightly awkward pause before she speaks.

  ‘Did you hear any more from the police?’

  ‘No. Not yet. Did they contact you, Faye?’

  ‘I think so, was one of them called Siobhan Lee?’

  My heart starts to race again and the calm I was feeling earlier vanishes into thin air.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well, she left a message on my phone.’

  ‘Fuck… did she? What did she say? Does she know if the body has been there for three years or more? Which would make us the residents of Huntley at the time.’

  ‘No she didn’t say but they must be thinking something like that… So, Tara…’

  I’m nodding instead of speaking into the phone. ‘Sorry, yes?’

  ‘They’ll be asking a lot of questions about what was going on at Huntley around that time.’

  I’m taking deep breaths through my nose, trying to relax.

  ‘You know what that means, Tara. You cannot say anything about what we did.’

  ‘I know that, Faye. Christ, do you think I’m stupid?’

  ‘No, I don’t think you’re stupid, but you’re dealing with professionals here. They know how to rattle people, how to get them to say things they never thought they’d say.’

  ‘Well don’t worry, I won’t be saying anything.’

  * * *

  Faye hangs up, leaving me feeling like she has no faith in me. I promised to contact her if the detectives came back and she said she’d let me know how she gets on with the detective if she thinks there’s a need to. Then she just told me to enjoy my wedding and said goodbye.

  It wasn’t quite the reunion I often dreamt about in my head.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Faye

  Each time Tara mentioned his name it felt like something was squeezing my brain. I thought my head was going to burst. Acid burned its way towards my mouth and my teeth pressed down hard, clenching until I thought they might break.

  I have cut the inside of my jowl and now I can taste the metallic blood oozing over my tongue. This reminds me I’m alive, I’m human. I don’t deserve to be treated like this, to be betrayed like this.

  I say hello to jealousy, that green monster who wants to upset me. Someone has what I should have. Someone who doesn’t deserve it and it stirs anger in me. Andriu is mine. Why is he in contact with Tara? Why is she inviting him to her wedding?

  I lie down and close my eyes. Count, slowly, one… two… slow your breath down. It’s not good to let my body stay angry like this. They don’t deserve to damage me anymore. I must think of the good stuff. How great my life was with Andriu. How he loved me. How I loved him. How I can have all that again.

  When I feel I’ve lowered the temperature under my anger, I sit up straight, stare at the wall in front of me and go back to the source of my distress. I look straight at it.

  If Andriu is going to Tara’s wedding they must have stayed in touch all these years. Tara did try to contact me for the first few months but I ignored her attempts. I
wasn’t ready to let her back into my life. She had betrayed me. She had to pay.

  I wonder if they spoke about me. They probably laughed at me for being so stupid not to have known what was going on between them.

  But then I think. Was I too quick to judge? Was it just a drunken one-night stand that neither of them can fully remember because they were so drunk? It’s possible that’s why they kept in touch. Maybe they felt guilty and had to talk it through, forgive themselves. But if that’s the case, surely Andriu would have contacted me, asked for my forgiveness. I would have given it. I know that now.

  But if he could contact Tara, why not me? He had my number. It’s all so hard to understand. Maybe I should ask him… or her. I could ask her and make her stand there, mouth open wide, eyes drooping, whimpering a ‘sorry’ through her pretty little lips when she knows I know. What if I told her fiancé? She wouldn’t like that.

  There’s only one thing to do. I need to infiltrate their little organization and see what is going on. I want Andriu back. Whatever he did that night, it was her fault. She led him astray. Andriu never cheated on me before then. I know now I should not have thrown him out of Huntley but I was so shocked, heartbroken and disappointed I did not know what else to do. I was fuelled with anger and couldn’t look him in the face for one more minute.

  I should have thrown her out instead.

  Swiping my phone open I click onto the Facebook app and see what I can find out. Andriu Fitzpatrick doesn’t have a social media presence. I’ve checked many times in the past and found nothing. Tara, on the other hand, appears to be a member of every self-promoting site that exists as far as I can see.

  I type her name into the search engine and watch her brilliant shiny life come up on the screen. Oh wait. Something new. A hen party announcement. I move the phone closer to my face to get a clearer look at the details. Saturday night, November 4th. That’s this Saturday. Brogan’s pub on Dame Street, then to Coppers nightclub on Harcourt Street. I know that place. I’ve been there many times.

  There are loads of ‘likes’ and ‘see you there’ and ‘looking forward to it’ comments below the post. Tara seems to have fallen into the world of quantity over quality when it comes to friends. She won’t find anyone like me, though. We go back a long, long way. We shared so many things, have a real history. Inseparable, like sisters. And now it’s gone. Tara and Andriu were all I needed back then. I thought it was the perfect set-up. There was no need for anyone else. As far as I was concerned, our little tribe had it all and I thought it would go on forever; that we were so strong and nothing could break the bond between us. But I was wrong. It only took one night to blow that illusion up, leaving me with nothing.

  I flick down through the comments; the only familiar name is ‘Emily’. Tara’s stupid junkie cousin. I’m surprised to find she’s still on the scene. I thought Tara would have given her a wide berth after the accusations made by her auntie Rose. I guess blood is thicker than water.

  I’m scrolling on and on down through the comments when I suddenly realise that I’ll be in town on Saturday night. I might just pop into Coppers and have a look at all these so-called friends of Tara’s. Coppers is so dark it’s hard to see someone standing beside you, never mind someone hiding in the corner watching to see what all the friends who’ve replaced you look like. I don’t want Tara to see me. I’m not ready for that yet. I just want to watch her party with all these people. I bet it doesn’t compare to the parties we had at Huntley Lodge.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Then

  The sun is so hot it feels like it’s only a few miles away. Andriu is massaging suncream into my skin. He gently swirls his hands across my back in circles. His touch makes me feel special, adored, excited. I’m his princess.

  Lying face-down on the makeshift sunbed that he made from a plastic pink lilo covered in a towel, I open my eyes to see what progress is being made.

  Tara is fussing over some outdoor lights that she wants connected for the party tonight. The last two months were spent with our faces stuck into books, preparing for our exams and now that they are over for this year, we plan to party like mad.

  ‘Why don’t you hang them around Holy Mary’s neck?’ Andriu says, laughing as he puts the lid back on the tube of cream. The statue has been resting against the back wall of the garden since we arrived here. It’s a strange sight and no one knows how it got here. It’s not like there’s a church or monastery anywhere nearby. This house belonged to one of the last operating farms in the city of Dublin according to Larry, my dad’s friend who is renting it to us. Most of the land was sold off for new development. The lodge is the only thing remaining. Well that and the unexplained statue of Our Lady.

  ‘I just might,’ Tara replies, shouting over the music that John from college is playing from the sound desk. He has it set up outside the kitchen window. He’s checking the speakers are working for tonight because anything up to a hundred people could arrive here. It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve had that many. When word gets around that there’s a party at Huntley, everyone wants to come.

  Tara jumps down from the chair she’s using as a ladder and shouts at John behind the desk to plug the lights in.

  ‘Yep, they’re working… what do you think?’ she says, standing back and staring at the little coloured balls draped along the wall.

  ‘Hmm.’ I nod.

  ‘I know it’s hard to tell in this light but tonight they’ll be lovely. Anyone for a beer?’ she says.

  I thought she’d never ask. I didn’t want to be the first to suggest it because it’s still so early and Andriu says I shouldn’t drink as much as I do. He thinks I drink too quickly but I slag him and say that’s just because he’s so old. Andriu is only three years older than me, but honestly, sometimes he sounds so much older. He’s often commented on how immature we can get when the shots are brought to the table or the drinking games are suggested. Andriu hates all that stuff now. He’s been there, done that, bought the T-shirt.

  I can sense his eyes boring through me from behind but I ignore him and tell Tara that I’ll have one. Then I hear his voice.

  ‘Are you sure, Faye? Is it not a bit early? You’ll be drunk by the time the party starts.’

  ‘The party has already started,’ Tara says, handing me a can of cider. She holds one out to Andriu but he says no. Then he stands up from where he was kneeling by my side and heads into the house. Andriu will take this as a loss and he doesn’t like losing.

  ‘He can be such a bore,’ Tara laughs, pulling the can open and gulping half of it down without taking a break. I don’t reply to Tara’s comment because I don’t agree with her. Andriu isn’t a bore, he’s just older than us. More mature. He finds Tara’s excessive excitement a bit immature. He told me so but I wouldn’t tell Tara that because she might get upset. Tara needs people to like her.

  * * *

  We’ve been lying in the sun all afternoon drinking cider and listening to John practising his DJ stunts. The sun has dipped in the sky and my head is a bit woozy from the drink. It’s a nice, relaxed, warm feeling.

  Already there are about twenty people in the garden and I don’t know how many are inside the house but there’s a great buzz.

  Tara has her eye on one of the guys from third year. She’s swooning like a little baby and laughing at every word he says. Her face is burnt red, almost glowing but the guy she’s chatting up doesn’t seem to mind. He’s opening a beer for her. Making his move. I hope he doesn’t get too attached because knowing Tara, she’ll be into someone else by tomorrow.

  I look around at the gathering crowd and realise I haven’t seen Andriu in a while. He must be still in his room. He left earlier, probably to put his head down for an hour but that was ages ago.

  I roll off the lilo, throwing it to the side of the garden then head into the house. When I get to the stairs Emily is coming down with that dopy glaze covering her eyes. I asked Tara to speak to her and ask her not to do drugs in our ba
throom but here she is once more, out of her head. I give her a look, suggesting I know what she’s at. But she replies with a look suggesting she doesn’t give a fuck what I think. If she wasn’t Tara’s cousin I’d bar her from the house but Tara says she’s a bit of a lost soul and doesn’t have any other friends.

  ‘Andriu,’ I say, opening the door of the bedroom. The room is dark, the light blocked by the blackout curtains.

  ‘Are you awake?’ I say, moving closer to the beautiful shape lying in boxer shorts on top of the bed. How he could possibly be asleep with all the noise I do not know but he yawns, then sits up in the bed. ‘Not anymore.’

  I sit down beside him and lean in to kiss him. Andriu wraps his bare arms around me and pulls me closer. Then he kisses my head and slides off the bed.

  ‘I better jump into the shower to wake myself up.’ He opens the drawer of his bedside cabinet and grabs his shower bag. When he first arrived here, Andriu was in the small box room at the front of the house but since our friendship blossomed into a full-blown love affair, he moved into my room.

  There is no ensuite in this house. There’s barely a shower. There’s just a hose over the bath that has to be pulled at and tugged before the water falls from it. If it wasn’t for Tara’s dad, it wouldn’t work at all.

  ‘Are you okay?’ he says. But what he really wants to know is if I’m drunk.

  ‘I’m fine, not a bother.’ I smile and watch his long tanned body move towards the bathroom.

  * * *

  Sometime later, when the party is in full swing and the back garden resembles a scene from Glastonbury, I stumble over to where Tara is caressing some guy’s tonsils with her tongue by the statue. I want to ask her where she has hidden the gin. We have to hide lots of stuff before letting every Tom, Dick and Mary into this place.

  I’m about to tap Tara on the back when I glance down the side of the house and notice Emily standing there with someone who doesn’t belong here.