‘Steady!’ The back turned and it was Danny now, moving from side to side in front of her. She wished everybody would keep still. She’d been dancing with Danny before, moving slowly in a circle. She wanted to go back to the feel of his arms holding her close. Maybe they were on a boat? She tried to speak, but her mouth wouldn’t move into the right position. Something very strange was happening to her. Air, she needed air. There was a glass of something red in her hand, and she took a long drink.
‘Ava!’ A flash of electric pink appeared in front of her, and recognition flickered in her mind. Her friend, she had been looking for her best friend, that was the thing she’d been trying to remember before all the noises and light started interfering. She wanted to speak, opened her mouth again, but it still wasn’t working properly. She felt as if she were in a dream.
‘Ava!’ The brilliant pink person in front of her was speaking again, grabbing her arm, shaking it, waving a coat at her. She wanted her to stop. ‘What are you doing?’
Ava’s mind was full of mist again. She knew who this girl was, but she couldn’t grasp her name. The word was slipping about on her tongue. Something wasn’t right. The pink person pulled her arm, and a face loomed in front of her eyes. A pretty rounded face, pale skin, the mouth painted cherry red and forming words, words she couldn’t catch. The face moved in and out of her vision. The pink girl was still clasping her wrist. Lena, that was it! How could she have forgotten the best friend she’d ever had?
‘Lena,’ she managed to say, leaning into the girl but missing and lurching forward, onto the floor. There was a tinkling sound as the glass she had forgotten was in her hand shattered, spilling bright red liquid and ice. She watched an ice cube bounce across the floor in front of her face. It would be good to sleep for a moment, she thought, but the ceiling seemed to be on a merry-go-round and she didn’t know how to get off.
Forty-One
Lena
‘Lena, it was great to catch up.’
Relief mixes with rage as Kate throws the dart – it’s a deliberate barb, but Ava follows her out seemingly without noticing as the volume of the music next door increases. When Martha speaks, however, her words are slow, her tone icy, cutting through the thumping bass of the track.
‘Why does Ava think you don’t know her?’
‘I don’t,’ I say.
‘Liar.’ She grabs my arm, her fingernails pressing into my skin.
‘Get off me.’
Her phone buzzes and I rip my arm away. She stares at the screen, an incredulous expression on her face. ‘This is proof,’ she says. ‘I’ve just had a message from Ben.’
‘I don’t believe you. Why would he have your number?’ I ask.
‘I asked Mum to get him to message me. No wonder you didn’t want Ava to contact him.’ She holds the phone in front of my face, her fingertips colourless where she’s gripping it hard. ‘Don’t even think about grabbing it.’
I read the screen with a sickening lurch in my stomach. I guess I’m guilty of keeping secrets too. I never told Ava about the last time Ben was over. He waited until she’d left for work. I was spreading raspberry jam on my toast and he asked if he could have a word. He stood over me, his voice soft. Said he’d never understood the power I had over Ava and that I’d been holding her back for years and it had to stop. It wasn’t long after that that she told me she was off to New York, Ben smiling at her side, his arm around her waist, the glint in his eye a reminder of his words. His threat. For that was what it was.
Martha! What a surprise. Ava’s party is next Saturday. Be great to catch up.
‘Why does Ben think the party is next weekend, Lena?’ She’s shaking her head, her mouth pinched. ‘This is the proof I needed. And it’s not the only proof I’ve got, either.’
‘You’re mad. Proof of what? Ben’s got confused, that’s all.’
‘Ava told me you said he didn’t tell you what flight he was getting but you expected him to be here by now. Implying he was reluctant to come so she would worry. Why would you do that? You’re a liar. Wait until I tell her what you’ve been up to. You’ve been seeing him, haven’t you?’ She reaches into her bag. ‘And there’s more.’ She pulls out a passport. ‘Look what we found in your room.’
The music gets louder, roaring in my head, and I want to stop her mouth from moving, from spilling out all her poison. My phone buzzes from where I stashed it behind the punch bowl. Martha reacts to the sound.
‘Let me see your phone, Lena.’ The table is vibrating, giving away its hiding place and she lunges for it. I slam my hand over hers and a bottle topples over, spilling beer all over the table. I dig my nails into her wrist, my grip claw-like. My fingers are slippery with the spilled drink.
‘Stop!’ Ava appears, a horrified expression on her face. ‘What are you doing?’
Martha loosens her grip on my phone and I swipe it away from her.
‘Your sister is deranged.’ My breath comes out in fast bursts with the adrenalin of the tussle.
‘She’s trying to hide her phone from you, Ava. Do you know why? Tell her, Lena.’
‘Shut up. You’re twisting everything. Don’t listen to her, Ava.’
‘I’ve had a text from Ben. He thinks the party is next week.’
‘No, he’s on his way, isn’t he?’ Ava sounds hesitant. She frowns, looking from me to Martha as if she’s watching a tennis match.
‘Here’s the proof.’ Martha presses buttons on her phone, then holds it out to Ava, who moves towards her, strands of blonde hair falling forward over the screen.
‘It’s not from Ben, Ava. Don’t trust her,’ I say. ‘She’s the one who’s been sending the roses.’
‘She knows we’ve found the passport,’ Martha says.
‘Why was my passport hidden in your room?’ Ava asks. ‘Why would you do that?’
‘I haven’t touched your passport. Who found it?’
‘Martha.’
‘For someone who’s supposed to be clever, Martha, you’re being incredibly stupid. That’s not proof of anything. She obviously planted it there, Ava. Why would I want your passport? None of this makes any sense.’
‘You want to stop her going to New York. That’s been obvious to me ever since I got here. Ava says you’re even talking about going with her. Pathetic. Why can’t you make your own way in life? You’ve been stuck like a leech to Ava since the first day you met her. And you’ve fooled everyone, even our parents, for God’s sake. Ava, please, what is it going to take for me to convince you?’
‘Are you seeing Ben?’ Ava asks in a trembling voice.
‘No, how could you think that?’ My stomach twists and I feel like I’m going to be sick.
Martha is scrolling through her phone. ‘Got it. There’s an easy way to find out who’s telling the truth. Call Ben.’ She hands it to Ava. ‘I bet she’s taken your phone too. Go on, call him.’
Ava looks between us again, gripping the phone. ‘If this is true, Lena – and I hope to God it isn’t – whatever happens between me and Ben, whether I go to New York or not, I never want to hear from you again.’
She taps the screen and I’m gripped by the urge to stop her. I have to stop her. I lunge forward and grab the cake knife from the table.
‘Don’t touch that phone.’
Martha hurls herself towards me. ‘Run, Ava!’ she says. ‘Get out of here. She’s deranged. If anyone gets hurt here, it will be me. I won’t let her touch you.’
Ava hesitates. Martha hovers, eyes fixed on mine, a glare sending a current of hatred towards me. There’s a shout from the other room, and I glance to the left. My attention is only distracted for a fraction of a second, but Martha pushes Ava out of the room. She’s between me and Ava, and I push the knife towards her, making contact with her arm. I have to make her stay away.
Music thuds out from the living room. A dull bump that pulses inside me along with the blood that pounds in my head. Ava’s running away from me, and I have a knife in my hand. I don’t
know how it’s come to this. Martha yells, and I shove past her, barrelling her out of the way. Ava is running, pushing through people to get to the front door. ‘Go!’ her sister shouts. But I won’t let her go, not ever.
She has reached the front door, and is struggling to open the catch.
‘Stop, Ava,’ I say.
She totters, almost falling backwards as she wrenches it open and bursts forward into the street. I follow her, pausing to shut the door behind me, but I’m too late. Martha emerges clutching her arm with her hand, blood covering her fingers.
I’m aware of a roaring noise, a car engine. A white car is barrelling down the street, too fast, too loud, and I watch transfixed as Ava runs down the path, through the open gate and straight into the road.
It hits her with a sickening thump, her body flung up into the air. The squeal of tyres is deafening as the car screeches to a halt. I’m not sure whether it’s Martha or me who screams loudest. For a second, everything is frozen, like a deathly version of musical statues, but the music plays on, blasting out from the house behind us.
‘Oh no,’ a woman says. A car door slams across the street, and it’s as if a shot has been fired. Music plays out from the house as if in mockery of this horror which is unfurling. The driver appears transfixed, rigid arms gripping the steering wheel, head bowed.
‘Ava,’ Martha shouts and I unfreeze.
Martha gets to her first, charging over to Ava’s body which lies motionless on the ground. I drop down next to Martha, her deep breathing heavy against my face as she touches Ava’s forehead, where blood is colouring her hair red, spilling onto the tarmac. Horror fills me at the sight, and the years are rolling back like giant waves in my head. Martha presses her fingertips frantically to Ava’s neck feeling for a pulse; my own heart is hammering in my throat, so loud I’m sure Martha can hear it too. Time slows, and it feels like I’m leaning over them forever, unable to process what I see in front of me. The car door slams.
Martha jumps to her feet. I look up, shock reverberating through me when I see who the driver is. It’s like a kick to my stomach. Kate? She laughs and claps her hands, then swivels, preparing to run, but Martha is standing in front of her. She grabs her with bloodied hands and shoves her back against the side of the car, red streaking the white paintwork.
It’s only then that I realise I’m still holding the knife, which is smeared with dark jam from the cake and I hurl it away from me, appalled. I press my shaking hands to Ava’s neck, refusing to give up hope.
People are emerging from the house and I’m aware of a male voice asking for the police in a gasping tone. The music stops, and I realise the party is finally over.
‘Oh my God, oh my God.’ I’m repeating the phrase over and over, bending down to Ava, stroking her hair, unable to stop touching her. She’s cold, but she has to be alive. She has to be. A figure kneels down beside me. It’s Steph, who’s brought my old raincoat from the hall. I help her cover Ava. I need to stop her getting any colder out here in the freezing temperature.
‘I can’t tell if there’s a pulse or not,’ I say, and I’m sobbing. I move my hands over her chest and start to attempt to resuscitate her, with a horrible sense of déjà vu. Steph reaches for Ava’s wrist, but she doesn’t say the words I need to hear.
Next to us, Martha is struggling to hold onto Kate.
Felix appears from nowhere, slamming Kate against the car. ‘Call the police as well as the ambulance,’ he says. Ice-cold fear slithers down my spine. Kate did this deliberately? Is that why she was here?
Martha speaks into her phone, her voice calm and authoritative, even in a crisis. She’s watching Kate the whole time, and when she ends the call, she points at her.
‘I know who you are,’ she says, taking a step towards her. ‘It’s been bugging me all night. Katie Davies, Tess’s little sister.’ Her face crumples, and for the first time ever, I see her lose her composure, her shoulders sagging, legs faltering. ‘You tried to kill my sister.’
Kate holds her stare. ‘Like she killed mine,’ she says coldly.
Forty-Two
2005
‘Christ, Ava! Help me, will you, she’s too heavy. Let’s get her outside.’
Ava closed her eyes and allowed herself to be dragged along. Her knee banged on the floor, but she didn’t feel anything. She must look really silly, hilarious even. A strange noise gurgled in her throat.
Strong hands held her arms and it was easier to walk. Then she was outside, the pulsing still there, but now it was right inside her head. What was she doing outside? She wanted to go and dance. She tried to stand, but the hands pushed her back down again. It was a boy; he was looming over her, breathing a tobacco smell into her face. A hand took hold of her chin and she was looking into a girl’s face again. Lena was a girl. She giggled. Of course it was Lena, how could she have possibly forgotten? She recognised those unusual yellow-brown eyes, eyes that glinted with anger. Not at her, surely; had she done something wrong?
‘Ava, listen, we need to get you home. How could you do that to me?’
‘I don’t want to go home,’ was all she could manage.
Lena was so close to her that Ava saw a flash of annoyance contort her face, then a stinging slap against her cheek took her by surprise. Angry words were pouring out of Lena’s mouth, but a loud bell was ringing in Ava’s ears and the world was rotating. She clasped her stinging cheek, staring at Lena, seeing two of her. She didn’t understand what Lena was saying. Her words sounded silly, funny, and she started to laugh. She couldn’t stop.
Lena grabbed her arms and pulled her to her feet. Ava swayed when she let go of her. Footsteps sounded and Ava recognised Tess as she passed them, looking in her bag for something. Lena was shouting at her, words pouring out of her mouth, but Ava still couldn’t grasp them.
Forty-Three
Lena
‘You OK?’ Steph says.
‘What do you think?’ I say. I can’t help myself.
‘The ambulance is on its way.’
Steph puts her arm around me; she’s shaking too. I’m rooted to the spot, unable to take my eyes off Ava’s face, her ghostly pallor and the gash on her cheek where blood pools. Her angular face is lit up by the car’s headlights, which cast a yellow shadow over the scene. Voices are talking quietly. I overhear people talking about her being dead and I want to tell them to shut up, but they are only saying what is in front of us. There have been too many lies tonight and it has to stop.
Minutes drag before the wail of sirens shatters the stunned silence. I become aware of people all around me; neighbours have spilled out of their houses, alerted by the awful squeal of tyres, the sickening thud that threw Ava into the air and slammed her back down on the ground. Ava, my best friend. My sister.
I’m aware that Felix is still holding on to Kate. If anyone was going to recognise her, it had to be Martha. The extra years she has on us, the time she spent with Tess, her best friend. The sirens are deafening, and then there are lights and confident voices issuing commands and I’m gently prised away from Ava, my arms aching from trying to bring her back to life. A woman is wrapping me in a foil blanket and I want to scream at her to leave me alone so I can just focus on Ava. She still hasn’t moved and I can’t bear to ask the question. A paramedic removes my raincoat from her and hands it to Martha, and I watch, my fist in my mouth, as he works on her. It’s taking so long and I hate being so helpless. I’m aware of people moving in and out of the house, conversations muttered, a policewoman beginning to move neighbours who have come out of their houses to stare as she secures a blue and white tape with the words ‘CRIME SCENE DO NOT CROSS’ around the lamp posts and down the road. After what feels like forever Ava is lifted into the ambulance. Martha climbs in behind her, clutching my coat as if it will give her strength.
‘Wait.’ I jump to my feet to follow them, but Martha appears in the doorway of the ambulance.
‘Stay away,’ she says. ‘You did this, the two of you; you’r
e in this together. I saw you talking at the party. Don’t let her in here.’
‘No, no––’ I start, but a paramedic takes my arm.
‘There isn’t room for both of you,’ she says. ‘I think it’s best if you come with me. Don’t worry, we’ll be just behind them.’
‘She’s dead, isn’t she?’ I whisper.
The ambulance driver starts the engine, swallowing the paramedic’s reply, and I only catch the end of her sentence. ‘… it’s best if you prepare yourself for the worst.’
The paramedic tells me her name is Julia, but that’s the end of the conversation and we make the rest of the journey to the hospital in silence. I follow Julia through a maze of sterile corridors as she follows instructions on her radio. We arrive at a small waiting room, where two women are talking quietly and a young man sits in the corner, his leg jigging up and down. Martha is on her phone, pacing around the room. She glares when she sees me.
‘Are you two going to be all right together?’ Julia asks.
‘Of course,’ Martha says, her stare burning into me.
I nod. ‘Ava is the only thing that matters here.’
‘I have to get back to the ambulance. The police will be arriving shortly to ask you a few questions. It’s routine, nothing to worry about.’ She squeezes my arm and she’s gone.
Martha finishes her call. ‘Our parents are on their way.’
‘Have you seen the doctor?’
‘Barely. They whisked her off as soon as we arrived. It’s not looking good.’ She slumps onto a chair, folds my raincoat on her lap. Dark shadows ring her eyes. ‘What Kate said, it was deliberate, wasn’t it? I’m going to tell the police you were in this together.’
The Leaving Party: An absolutely gripping and addictive psychological thriller Page 18
