Her White Lie

by Jackie Walsh

  Tara, that friend of mine who works at the courts got back to me earlier today. Muriel was right. Avril Ryan did file a harassment complaint against a man. I’ll forward on his identity. It was a few years before she went missing. The investigators will already be aware of this. But you asked so… enjoy the wedding.

  Damn it. I was hoping there might be something in that discovery to send the detectives down a different path but if it was years earlier and, as Sean says, the family will have told the cops about it anyway, it’s of no use to me. Shaking my head, I promise to let go of my thoughts about Avril Ryan and concentrate on the wedding.

  * * *

  A few hours later the buzzer sounds. Andriu is here. He arrives at the door with a bottle of wine in his hand which I thank him for. He must be planning on having a drink. I wasn’t but I feel obliged to join him.

  ‘Is Lucas here?’ he says, walking over towards the balcony and looking out. ‘Great view, this place must cost a bomb.’

  ‘No, he’s gone for a drink with some of his colleagues. It’s his last day in work so… how are you getting on? Have you met up with Faye at all?’

  Andriu shakes his head, still looking out on to the city. ‘That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, Tara.’ He turns around and nods at the bottle in my hand. ‘Are you opening that?’

  ‘Oh yes.’ I hurry to the kitchen area and take two glasses from the shelf, putting them on the table before opening the bottle of wine. ‘I’ll just have a small glass,’ I say. ‘I’ve a few heavy days ahead.’

  Andriu takes his glass and sits down on the chair opposite the sofa. I sit on the sofa.

  ‘Here’s to your future, Tara,’ he says, leaning in to clink glasses.

  ‘Cheers.’ I feel a bit awkward in his company all of a sudden. A flashback of the last time we were on our own having a drink all those years ago comes to mind. I know we were both drunk but if I hadn’t pushed him away anything could have happened. I couldn’t believe that he tried to seduce me. He was Faye’s boyfriend, for Christ’s sake.

  ‘You wanted to talk about Faye,’ I say, hoping he doesn’t suggest she had something to do with the murder again.

  ‘I did meet Faye,’ he says, leaning forward in the seat. ‘I think she followed me. I can’t be sure but…’ Andriu takes a sip from his glass without taking his eyes off me. ‘Tara, what do you know about Faye since you last saw her?’

  ‘Nothing really. She’s a doctor, I’m not sure what hospital. I think it’s somewhere on the south side.’ Then I remember her mentioning a clinic. ‘Or she could be working in a private clinic.’

  ‘Faye is not working as a doctor.’

  ‘What?’ I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Why is Faye not a doctor? Andriu must have it wrong. I spoke to her secretary.

  ‘She is, Andriu, I rang her at the clinic and her secretary answered. She said Faye was doing her rounds. She is a doctor, Andriu. What makes you think otherwise?’

  ‘I don’t want you getting upset, Tara, especially before the wedding, but I think you need to know this in case something happens.’

  I can feel the blood rushing to my head. The glass in my hand feels heavy all of a sudden. What is he going to say?

  ‘Faye is in a clinic getting treatment. The thing is, Tara, I think she’s gone a bit mad. She’s dangerous, Tara. She followed me the other night. She pretended to bump into me. I think she might have been in the pub, sitting at the bar, watching us.’

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Faye

  It’s after ten. The usual silence bounces off the walls of the building like it does every night. It’s eerily creepy, knowing everyone is now lying in their beds, doing their very best to think of a reason to wake up tomorrow. All you need is one.

  Sometimes the muffle of tears can be heard hiding behind walls. Or laughter. When that happens it’s like someone is being bold and it’s exciting. It’s also a reminder that this too shall pass. Better days lie ahead. I want to believe that. I need to believe that.

  With my mind unable to rest, I kneel up on the bed and pull the curtain to look outside. The darkness steals the picture of the walled garden that this window frames. The tall trees by the back wall are now only a suggestion, a blurred shadow, drawn by the half moon.

  With nothing to see, I move away and return to the comfort of my duvet.

  Dad surprised me earlier. I explained what had happened with the detectives and he told me I wasn’t to worry. He would get me the best solicitor he could find. No one was going to accuse his daughter of anything. He told me not to utter another word about it to anyone until I spoke to my solicitor. Dad made me feel safe.

  I didn’t directly mention the ‘Cabhrui’ website, or how I had helped Tara, but I did tell him he would find out something about me. I told him I didn’t think it was a bad thing and I hoped he wouldn’t too. I might be pushing my luck with that wish. But it doesn’t matter, he doesn’t have to agree with what I did. I just hope he understands.

  Mam was frantic on the phone when she first heard. After calming down, she asked me was I okay to stay here or did I want to come home? I told her I had to stay here. I had to get better.

  Her tears were muffled but I knew she was crying and when she said she was proud of me the word rang like an angel’s song in my ear. Proud. I’d almost forgotten that word existed.

  I’m nervous. I’ve never faced so much uncertainty and yet I feel stronger than I have in a long time. Do I owe my recovery to Avril Ryan? The knowledge I have gained over the past few weeks has helped me get to this point. It would never have happened if Huntley Lodge hadn’t appeared on the TV that night. I would never have opened those doors. I would never have received a call from Tara which fueled my journey into the past. Stalking was probably not one of my finer hours and realising how much I hated Tara Moore was scary. But I’m ready to let it all go now. The past. Andriu… Emily…

  ‘Fuck.’ Clarity crashes into my head. The text from Avril Ryan. I’m supposed to have received it the week Tara’s mam died. But what if it was the same night she died? That would explain why I didn’t see it. I wasn’t in possession of the phone. I wasn’t the one who replied to that text and arranged to meet her at Huntley Lodge.

  I jump up in the bed… No… Sweet Jesus, it can’t be.

  But it makes sense.

  ‘Aoife, Aoife.’ Tossing the duvet aside I rush to her bedside and shake her, not caring if I frighten her. ‘Aoife, wake up!’

  ‘What?’ she says lifting her head from the pillow. ‘I wasn’t asleep.’

  ‘Aoife, I need your phone.’

  ‘But…’

  I rush to the wall and switch on the light. Then I hurry to the pile of unread leaflets and cards that I’ve collected in my drawer. It’s hurting me to breathe. My eyes are stinging.

  ‘Where the fuck is it?’ I’m tossing paper after paper onto the ground when I finally see it. The card is caught in the edge of the drawer. I pull it loose and put my other hand out to Aoife.

  ‘The phone, Aoife.’

  She hesitates at first. She will lose her privileges, but something about the terror I’m showing convinces her. She jumps up, reaches under the bed and takes out her phone. She switches it on and hands it to me. Standing in a long blue nightdress, Aoife crosses her hands over her shivering body and stares at me.

  I bless myself, then dial the number that’s printed under Detective Siobhan Lee’s name. If I’m right, Tara Moore is in a lot of danger.

  Chapter Sixty

  The call goes straight to voicemail. My hand is shaking. I leave a message asking the detective to ring me back, saying that I need to ask her something. But I can’t wait around for her to reply. I have to do something. I have to talk to Tara. Her number is on my phone which is now locked up somewhere in this building so I can’t call her. Catherine took great pleasure taking it out of my hand after the disciplinary meeting. I had made her look like a fool in front of her boss and she was not happy about it.

 
; ‘What will I do?’ I say out loud. Aoife is looking at me, chewing her nails.

  ‘What’s happening?’ she says, nerves apparent in her startled eyes. ‘What’s going on, Faye?’

  ‘I need to contact my friend,’ I say. ‘She could be in danger.’ I’m already pulling on a pair of jeans.

  ‘You can’t leave, Faye.’ Aoife is trembling now, feeling a responsibility to stop me.

  ‘Don’t worry Aoife, this is absolutely necessary.’ I lift my sweatshirt from the chair in the corner. ‘Have you any cash?’ I say, pulling the top over my head.

  ‘You’re going to get into a lot of trouble,’ Aoife says. ‘Don’t do it, Faye.’

  ‘I have no choice. My friend is in danger.’

  I pull open the drawer where I keep my money. We’re only allowed five euros per day for the shop that comes around on a trolley. Stocked with sweets, fruits, magazines, it’s like the meal on an airplane. Things I wouldn’t normally care for but have now become the highlight of the day. I’ve only ten euros left. That won’t get me into town in a taxi.

  ‘Can’t you ring someone? Ring the police, or your mam – someone’s number you have in your head.’ Aoife is right. I should ring someone, but I know what will happen. No one is going to believe me. They’ll think I’m just freaking out, looking for attention again and then they’ll contact the clinic and I’ll be watched all night.

  ‘I did ring the detective. They didn’t answer… Can I have your money? I’ll give it back to you,’ I say.

  Aoife opens the drawer on her bedside locker and takes out her remaining ten euros. She hands it to me, watching me calculate out loud how much I think a taxi will cost. Then she does something I wasn’t expecting. She takes one of her shoes out of the wardrobe and puts her hand into it, pulling the insole out. Aoife removes two fifty-euro notes and hands them to me. I say nothing, looking at her with both disbelief and admiration. A part of me is surprised Aoife is breaking rules, she seems so quiet and obedient, but she is in here so…

  I smile at her then grab her and hug her. ‘Wish me luck,’ I say.

  ‘Be careful.’ She hands me her phone, watching as I gently open the door and leave the room.

  * * *

  The corridor is empty, with just one main overhead light on. There are still people in the TV room; I can see the shadows from the TV dancing on the walls through the glass window. When I reach the lobby, there’s nobody there. The shutter is pulled down over the reception area. I move towards the big blue door. I could have attempted to make my way out through the emergency exit but that would be a lot riskier because the alarm might go off. The smokers are allowed out into a smoking area at the side of the building so this door is usually left open until twelve at night.

  I am turning the lock when I hear footsteps behind me. Without turning to see who’s there, I slip out through the gap and close the door behind me. Then I run, down the driveway, out through the big black iron gates and onto the street. My heart is pumping. I look behind but the door is still closed.

  The road is busy; normal life is still in full swing. Across from the clinic, a row of cafes and pubs light up the street. The buzz is terrific… on that side of the street.

  I’m cold. I couldn’t take my jacket in case Catherine spotted me walking towards the exit. She knows I don’t smoke. I would have had to pretend I was going to the kitchen for some water.

  I walk down to the corner of the street to wave down a taxi. Clinging to Aoife’s phone, I check the detective hasn’t called back before getting into the car. I ask the smiling taxi driver to take me to Reilly’s Bar on the quays near the Financial Centre. I have no intention of going to the bar but it’s the only landmark I can remember near Tara’s apartment block. Sitting in the back seat of the taxi, I take a few deep breaths. I know I’m crossing a line here. I do not know where this will end but I have to talk to Tara. I need to warn her. Suddenly, I wonder what I’ll do if she’s not there. She could be anywhere the Wednesday before her wedding. Probably running all over the town finalising things. God, I hope she’s there, that I don’t have to wait out in the cold again for hours for her to return home.

  The taxi cannot go quick enough. Every traffic light is running against us. My fears are mounting as I consider what I’m about to do. What if Tara doesn’t believe me? She has to believe me. I have to be right; there is no other explanation for it. Tara is going to freak so close to the wedding, but she has to know what’s going on.

  When the taxi eventually pulls up outside the pub, I get out and pay the guy. My heart is racing, my body trembling from both nerves and the ice-cold wind that’s racing down the quays.

  The smell of beer slaps me in the face when I walk past the open door of the pub. A young man exits, crashing into me. I move on, telling him it’s okay but he repeats his apology over and over after me. ‘Sorry miss, sorry, Jaysus, sorry.’

  When I get to the door of the apartment, I search through the numbers on the intercom until I get to 431.

  Chapter Sixty-One

  Tara

  What? My head begins to spin. Really, could Faye be that mad? Poor Faye, is this my fault? Did I push her too far? A million thoughts rush through my head. Why didn’t she tell me? Did this breakdown have something to do with Avril Ryan? Faye seemed pretty normal to me the last time we spoke but I didn’t know at the time she was in therapy. I thought she was a doctor at the clinic. She let me believe she was.

  ‘When did you find this out?’

  ‘I got a bit suspicious when I spoke to her so I contacted her sister.’

  ‘You spoke to Deirdre?’

  ‘Yes, it was sad listening to her sister tell me how she had spiralled out of control. The girl I lived with and loved for so long was like a complete stranger. A mad woman.’

  ‘But…’ I have no words.

  ‘I know I shouldn’t have cheated on her back then the way I did, and I regret that. But she was freaking me out. Something definitely happened to her, Tara. She changed overnight into a paranoid nervous wreck who I didn’t know anymore. And now…’

  ‘What?’ I lean forward, eager to hear what he has to say and dreading it at the same time.

  ‘Tara, if Faye was being blackmailed by that woman who was found dead in the pit at Huntley… it would make sense that she’s the one who killed her. That could be what made her mad.’

  I stand up and walk into the kitchen, refilling my wine glass. What is he talking about? Why does he think Faye was being blackmailed? Does Andriu know what we did? Did Faye tell him about my mam’s passing. She promised not to, so how did he come up with that theory about blackmail? Faye would not have broken her promise to me. Andriu must have found out some other way?

  ‘I’m not saying she killed her on purpose, she might have got into a row…’

  ‘Stop it, Andriu.’

  I don’t want to hear this. What if he’s right? If it’s true that Faye has, as Andriu puts it, gone mad, and if she is no longer a doctor and is in care, then I have to consider that his theory could be right. Something must have pushed her over the edge. My stomach is churning and the wine is making me a bit dizzy even though I haven’t had much. I was the one who brought that woman into Faye’s life. If I hadn’t given her Faye’s name as the clinical assistant none of this would have happened. I don’t know what to think. Who to believe. Where to turn.

  ‘I told the detective.’ Andriu’s voice is like a blade cutting through my thoughts. I turn to look at him sitting on the chair, his eyes searching for my reaction.

  ‘You told the detective what?’

  ‘That I think there might have been an accident at Huntley Lodge, that Faye might have been the subject of Avril Ryan’s blackmailing scheme.’

  ‘But… when did you talk to them?’

  ‘Yesterday, they rang me.’

  ‘I’m sorry Andriu but I can’t believe this. Could that really have gone on and us not know something was up? Poor Faye.’ I think about how she left Huntley Lodge. Th
e way she cut me out of her life so easily and things slowly begin to add up. Something did shake her. But murder? Faye? No.

  Andriu stands and walks to the bottle of wine, filling his glass. I can smell his aftershave but it’s like poison to my senses. What is this man doing in my apartment? Why is he here telling me this, three days before my wedding? I need to talk to Lucas. I want Lucas.

  ‘Andriu, I need you to go. I’m sorry but…’

  ‘I understand,’ he says, putting the glass down on the counter. ‘Just be careful.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Well, if she was able to get out of the clinic last weekend and she’s blaming you for what happened… just be careful, Tara. Faye is unhinged, she’s dangerous. She might want to confront you like she did me.’

  There’s a weight pressing down on me now, I might collapse any minute. My heart is breaking all over again. Poor Faye. Suddenly her words echo in my head, her drunken words. You ruined me Tara; this is all your fault.

  My fear is growing. I take my phone to ring Lucas. I hate asking him to come home when he’s having his leaving drinks with his workmates, but I need him here with me. I need to feel safe. If what Andriu says is true, maybe Faye has followed me too. Maybe she knows where I live. I’m about to dial Lucas’s number when the intercom buzzes. I put the phone down and go the intercom to see who it is. Andriu is putting his jacket on when the voice comes over the speaker.

  ‘Tara, it’s Faye, I need to talk to you.’

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  Faye

  I’m freezing standing here. Tara is taking her time coming down to me. I can’t see why she didn’t just buzz me in. After a few minutes, a girl opens the door and I slip into the foyer. I walk to the elevator and press the button. When the door of the elevator opens my heart sinks. Shit. It’s him. I was not expecting to see him here.