by Jackie Walsh
The room has no windows and is staggeringly bright. My body feels like it’s on charge. Every inch of me is trembling. If I could bottle fear, I’d be filling a keg.
Detective Lee is the first to speak and when all the formal introductions are made, rules are explained and buttons are pressed. She asks me if I knew Avril Ryan. I look at Sean who nods the all clear for me to answer and I shake my head. I’m reminded I need to speak the words so I tell her that I don’t know and I never knew Avril Ryan.
Detective Lee turns a page in her folder, appears to read something then rests both her arms on the table and says, ‘Are you sure you didn’t know Avril Ryan?’
I look at Sean again then back to the detective. ‘No.’
‘No you’re not sure, or no you didn’t know her?’
‘I didn’t know her.’
‘If my client says she didn’t know Avril Ryan she didn’t know her,’ Sean interrupts. He believes me. He already asked me all this.
‘We have testimony that says you did know her.’
‘What?’
My body sinks into itself. I want to run and yet I can’t move. Who would say that? I feel the bright light dimming. I’m going to collapse. If the detectives believe I’ve been lying about knowing Avril Ryan, they’re going to want to arrest me. At the very least, they’re going to destroy my wedding to Lucas. He won’t want to marry me if he thinks I’ve lied to him. I won’t be able to move to Australia. I think I’m going to be sick.
Sean is talking in my ear, telling me to take deep breaths and hands me a glass of water.
‘This isn’t the truth, Sean,’ I say. ‘They’re lying. I didn’t know her. I never met her.’ The air is barely reaching my lungs so I take deep breath after deep breath. ‘Who told you that?’ I direct my angry voice at the detective. ‘Because they’re lying.’
‘Faye Connolly,’ she says with a smile on her face like she’s the cat that got the cream.
‘Faye Connolly?’ I can barely get the words out of my mouth. Why would Faye say that? What the hell is going on?
‘Are you sure?’ I say. ‘Faye?’
‘Yes.’
I turn to Sean, shaking my head, my eyes pleading for an explanation.
‘I don’t know why she’d say that, I didn’t know her. I…’ Tears are falling down my face and I hope this doesn’t make me look guilty.
Sean turns his attention back to the detectives and asks if they have any evidence other than the word of some distant acquaintance. My body feels numb. What is Faye playing at? I need to speak to her. Behind the buzzing in my brain I hear Sean asking the detectives if they have a definite time of death because as things stand there isn’t even any proof that I was living in the house at the time.
The room is getting stuffy. It feels like it’s closing in on me. Detective Lee looks at the file in front of her. The last banking transaction made by Avril Ryan took place the day before she disappeared. The last phone call she made was that same day… to me. Lee lifts her eyes and looks at me when saying this. I look away. I’ve already told her I didn’t receive that call. Then Lee says the day I got the call is the presumed date of death, as there was no activity from her after that day. I was living at Huntley at the time; no one is denying that.
Detective Lee’s voice is drilling a hole in my brain. She continues to leave no reasonable doubt about the date of death. Sean is telling her that Avril Ryan could have been dumped there any time after she was killed. My head is spinning. The detective agrees and listens as Sean tells her that his client was not involved in the death of Avril Ryan. He suggests the detectives cease any contact with me unless they have some definitive proof that I was involved in Avril Ryan’s death.
And that’s when the detective drops the bomb.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Faye
It’s been a bitch of a day. Barely time for a coffee between appointments. I’ve missed two calls from Tara so I guess the detective has been to see her. Maybe I shouldn’t have done that but maybe she shouldn’t have slept with Andriu.
Now I have to convince Tara that the detective misinterpreted what I said, because I need her to tell me where Andriu is staying. The phone rings, once, twice.
‘Hello.’
‘Tara, it’s Faye. Sorry I missed your calls, I’ve been busy. How are you?’
‘Did you tell that detective I knew Avril Ryan?’
She really is pissed off.
‘God, Tara, relax there a minute, it wasn’t like that.’
‘What was it like, then? Either you told her or you didn’t.’
I’m almost proud of Tara, she’s not holding back. The girl seems to have grown a pair since I last met her. The, yes Faye, no Faye, whatever you want Faye, has been replaced with what the fuck, Faye.
‘The detective asked me if I was sure you didn’t know her and all I said was I couldn’t answer that for sure. I didn’t know if you knew her or not. I said it was quite possible you knew her from work or something and that’s what I told the detective. I didn’t say you knew her. I said I couldn’t say for definite you didn’t.’
‘Well she seems to think you said I did know her.’
‘Tara, I warned you about that. They’ll twist things. They’ll try to get you to say something you don’t mean to say and then they’ll rearrange the words. It’s all about getting you to admit something. But sure, if you didn’t know her you’ve nothing to worry about.’
There is silence at the end of the phone.
‘Tara, are you still there?’
‘It’s not that simple, Faye.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Avril Ryan called me. She made a bloody phone call to my phone. I didn’t answer it but according to those detectives I’m the last call she made before disappearing.’
Now, I’m silent. Her words send a shiver through my body. This is not good. I take a deep breath and tell Tara not to worry because I need her to relax. I need her to tell me where Andriu is staying.
‘Have they spoken to Andriu yet?’ I say.
‘Not that I know of. I’m meeting him Friday night so I’ll find out then.’
‘Where is he staying?’ I say.
‘Horgan’s on the green.’
I finish the call, apologizing for the detective’s misinterpretation of what I said and telling Tara not to let this ruin her wedding. I asked her how things were going and her voice seemed a bit lighter when she spoke about the wedding. But she’s worried. I’m worried too; Tara was not the only one to be contacted by a stranger.
I think back to the anonymous text that I read on my phone the same day I discovered Andriu was not in love with me. The words in the text message frightened me. They still frighten me because someone out there knew what I had done.
* * *
It was three years ago but I can remember it like it was yesterday. I was halfway through my shift at the hospital. A&E wasn’t at full capacity but I’d been kept busy all morning. After telling an older lady in cubicle nine that she would have to stay with us for a couple of days to do some further tests, I left the area and went for a break to the coffee shop.
Unlike a lot of my student colleagues, I loved working in A&E. It operated in fifth gear all the time. No one knew what was going to come through the door and there were so many opportunities to learn something new.
The only thing I didn’t like was the hours. Sometimes, after doing ten hours on the clock, I would have to stay overnight in the sleeping quarters to remain on call. If my shift fell at the weekend, I might not get to the bed until the early morning when it was almost time to go home. This was one of those shifts.
I went to the public café, Costa, at the entrance to the hospital because I wanted a decent cup of coffee – something the staff canteen found difficult to provide. It was either bitter or cold and the room itself was dull and sparse with hard chairs and metal tables. Unlike Costa, which had a bit of colour and comfort.
With my flat white in my
hand, I noticed an empty table in the corner of the café and kept my head down while I walked towards it. I remember not wanting to meet anyone. I was in no mood to chat. It had been a hard few days since Tara’s mam died and Andriu was in a strange mood which I couldn’t figure out. And on top of all that, earlier that day, I’d watched a young man die from injuries he’d sustained in a traffic accident.
The hospital entrance area was full of people coming and going. All I wanted was a few minutes of peace to enjoy my coffee.
When I sat down at the table, I took my phone from my pocket, hoping to have some news from Andriu.
When I left that morning, he was lying in bed. I kissed him on the lips and he kissed me back. I told him I was on a twenty-four shift and I’d see him tomorrow. I also asked him to check in on Tara because she was so sad but he didn’t say anything. He rolled over, turning away from me. I just presumed he was still half asleep. I walked out of the bedroom unaware of how my life would change when I walked back into it.
There was no message from Andriu on my phone. Just a missed call from Mam and a message from a number I didn’t recognise. At first I got a bit of a shock when I read it.
I can destroy you.
I clicked on it to see if there was a name attached. Nothing. So I put the phone on the table and lifted the hot coffee to my lips. At first I thought the message must have been sent to the wrong number.
Then it dawned on me like a silent shadow creeping over my body and casting me into darkness. Someone knew what I had done. Someone was threatening me, attempting to blackmail me. I took the phone in my hand again, searching through my history to see if I could connect the number to a person I knew but I couldn’t. I thought about dialing the number and was about to when Richard from the x-ray department sat down in front of me. He had a croissant hanging from his mouth and two cups of coffee in his hands. Richard mumbled something before placing the coffee down and taking the croissant from between his lips. A girl I hadn’t met before, but whose nametag told me she was Cora, sat down beside him. She said something but I didn’t hear her. All I could hear were muffled noises and my heart beating loud in my chest.
Somebody was threatening me. They knew I would be struck off if the truth got out. But who knew? Who would do that? Was it someone here at the hospital? Had someone somehow discovered what had happened?
I glanced around the space in front of me. Patients, visitors, doctors, nurses. It could be any one of them and was most likely none of them. I lifted the coffee to my lips once more and swallowed down half the cup in one go. I didn’t know who had sent that text but I was pretty sure I was going to hear from them again very soon.
I didn’t hear from them that day, or any other day. I waited, hour after hour, week after week, month after month. Over time, the anxiety of hearing my phone beep disappeared. But there was still a niggling fear at the back of my mind that whoever it was would show up at any time. Someone knew what I had done and they could destroy me.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
I’m sitting by a window, sipping tea from a small white cup dotted with little blue flowers. It arrived at my table on a saucer alongside a small pot and jug. The napkin is as big as a tablecloth, fresh, crisp and white. There’s a scone on a plate with a separate little pot of jam and butter and a polished silver knife resting on the side.
Mam would be happy to see this. Her daughter sitting in a Queen Anne chair by the window of a luxurious hotel drinking tea and eating scones like posh people should. Thankfully, my appointment’s schedule was very light for the day. I was able to move things around and leave the clinic early.
When I told her I was meeting an old friend in Horgan’s Hotel her face lit up with hope for me. Mam loves to hear I’m getting out and meeting people. I know she thinks I should make a better effort to make new friends. She throws a subtle comment my way every now and then to that effect. But Mam doesn’t know they’re not worth it. Friends can betray you.
I told her it was someone I knew from my college days. According to Mam, Horgan’s Hotel is well known for its afternoon tea and she has some lovely memories of meeting her sister there over the years before her sister passed away. Mam has no idea the old friend I’m planning to meet is Andriu. I don’t want to tell her yet. I’ll wait until we’re back together because she might get upset after the way things finished between us.
I hope she’ll be happy that I’ve found love again, because my father won’t. He never liked Andriu. He thought he was punching above his weight, and he wasn’t shy about sharing his feelings with Andriu. He questioned him so much about his past and his plans for the future and wanted to know so much about his family that Andriu eventually stopped coming to the house with me. He said it was like going for an interview with God.
I lean back in the comfortable chair. From my vantage point in the lobby, I can see who is arriving and leaving the hotel. I can also see the elevators, two large steel doors opening and closing every few minutes. Rich people walking in. Rich people walking out. If Andriu walks out through one of those doors, I plan to rush out and bump into him. If he arrives from the front door, I’ll do the same. I’ll say I was having tea with friends and was on my way out.
The excitement is buzzing inside me, but to a passer-by I look like a lovely young woman relaxing, enjoying a scone and a pretty little cup of tea, waiting on a friend to arrive.
I’ve decided not to drink alcohol this weekend. Andriu won’t want me if I’m falling around drunk. I need to stay focused if I’m to lure him back into my life.
When the scone is gone and the last of the tea is drained from the pot, a young waiter comes over and asks me if I’m alright and if I need anything else. I tell him I’m fine, just waiting on a friend. I take my phone from my pocket pretending I’ve received a text and explain that my friend is delayed. I’m not sure he buys it but he tells me there’s no problem and I can stay as long as I like. Then he clears the table. If I was anywhere else, I’d order another cup of tea but the last one cost me fourteen euros. Just for tea and a scone. I could get two double vodkas and Coke for that in the pub next door.
A group of four women have gathered at a table beside me, chatting and laughing and clearly enjoying one another’s company. The woman who is the centre of attention moves her arms as much as her lips when she speaks and seems to have either just ditched her man or is reliving an old experience for the entertainment of her friends. She’s making the whole thing sound like it was a laugh. I bet it wasn’t a laugh. I bet she cried her eyes out when she realised her husband was being unfaithful.
It’s making me angry listening to her reducing her pain to a funny anecdote to be shared with her friends over tiny sandwiches and tea. I’d love to tell her to shut up. I’m about to tell her to when the door of the lift opens stopping me and sending a rush of excitement soaring through me. Is that him? It looks like him. My breath buckles; am I looking at Andriu?
A tall man with dark hair and a leather jacket is stepping out of the elevator. He is looking downwards watching his step so I can’t tell for certain, but it could be him. He’s wearing jeans and a white T-shirt under the jacket. My heart is bouncing in my chest when I stand and rush out to the hallway. Relax Faye, be cool. An old woman is hobbling in through the entrance on a stick, forcing me to slow down and let her pass. I rush past her but when I get closer to the man in the leather jacket he lifts his head and my heart sinks. It’s not Andriu.
* * *
I’ve been here for over three hours now and there’s no sign of Andriu. The waiter has attended to me twice. He probably thought I’d been stood up as he asked if I wanted anything else to eat or drink but thankfully he seems to have gone on a break or finished his shift. I haven’t seen his sympathetic smile in a while.
I consider asking for Andriu’s room number at the reception desk but I’m not sure these posh places will give that sort of information out. Unless I pretend I’m a distressed relation with some bad news for him. Or maybe I could
pretend to be the detective. There has to be some way of finding out his room number.
Eventually I come up with a reasonable plan that won’t make me look like a fool or an imposter so I scan the lobby one last time before heading to the toilet where I take my phone in my hand and ring the hotel.
‘I’ve a delivery for an Andriu Fitzpatrick, could you tell me what room he’s staying in?’ My heart is in my mouth. They might not believe me but it’s worth a try.
‘Sorry, can you repeat the name?’ the voice at the far end says and suddenly I feel hopeful.
‘Andriu Fitzpatrick.’
After a short pause I hear her voice again. ‘No, sorry, there’s no one staying here by that name.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Positive. No Andriu Fitzpatrick. Is there a second guest in the room I could check?’
My mind is spinning. I want to tell her I don’t know if there’s a second guest. I know nothing about him anymore but I say nothing.
I hang up and look in the mirror where I watch the rage change the shape of my face. My eyes stare angrily, my lips tighten, my forehead shrinks. Tara Moore lied to me. She told me Andriu was staying at this hotel and he isn’t. I’ve been sitting here all afternoon waiting to bump into him, hoping, planning what I’d say when I met him, imagining the look on his face when he saw me. Maybe he’d take me to his room or invite me to dinner later tonight and we’d end up making love and rekindling our relationship. Andriu would realise he was wrong to leave me. He’d realise that he still loves me and we would be together again. But he isn’t here. Why did she do that to me?
Taking a deep breath, I gaze at the mirror. ‘You won’t get away with making a fool out of me again, Tara Moore.’ My voice is low, angry, determined. I turn away from my image and walk out the door, through the lobby and out onto the busy street. If I hurry I’ll be at her apartment in less than twenty minutes.
