by Naomi Joy
I looked forward to the day he screwed her over too. You’d find me sitting in the front row with a box of popcorn cheering for an encore, clapping like a Seaworld seal. I dragged my reluctant body upstairs and changed into my go-to tunic dress, the smell of it – vinegary – wrapped round me as I pulled it down over my head, the underarms still damp.
*
I took the bus into work, selecting a seat on the top deck towards the back. It occurred to me as I tasted the beer on my tongue that I’d neglected to brush my teeth. I shoved my finger into my mouth and scraped it roughly along each line, pausing to shovel out a build-up of plaque nestled away in a crevice towards the back. I watched as a young couple took the two spare seats ahead of me. I eyed the backs of their heads angrily as the man tucked himself under the woman’s chin and slid his hand inside her coat. I scowled. Commuting was no time for affection. This was probably a new relationship; few established couples feel the need to shove their happiness in other people’s faces. I thought about her poor colleagues who’d have to endure the story of her latest escapades with ‘gorgeous’… hmm, he looked like a Michael. Gorgeous Mike. It sounded like an oxymoron. I bet that’s what her workmates thought. They’d be right. What kind of lothario uses his date’s shoulder as a pillow? I bet he was the kind of modern-day man who’d force her to get rid of a spider in the bath, leave her to put up the shelves in the spare room, but also expect her to cook and clean and wash and iron. I had half a mind to follow her into work and set the record straight. This guy was the worst. About as house trained as an alpaca, with similarly shaggy, unkempt hair… which she’d probably had to tie up in that ridiculous man-bun this morning because he couldn’t even do that himself.
As I stared daggers at them, imagining how much her colleagues must hate her, I pulled out my phone from my rucksack and clicked into my gallery, scrolling through until I landed on the picture of David and Ava. I zoomed in, examining it from different angles, staring into the haunted pallor of her face. I guess this was what she’d look like dead. I smiled. I’d enjoy showing this to Josh.
The bus sat in traffic and the windows steamed up. I leant my head against the mist and let the condensation wet my hair. I thought about the day ahead, about the satisfaction of wiping the joy from her face. You know, there should really be a limit to how long you have to work with someone you don’t like. The first few months are fine, then every day starts to wear you down, you stop pretending to hide your distaste for one another and, before long, you’re lying awake at night fantasising about ways to kill them. Where I was with Ava now, I was ready to actually do it.
Payback.
That shouldn’t be it though.
You need to go further, grander, end this once and for all.
You need to taste her blood.
35
Ava
Kai’s number illuminated my desk phone and I picked up, trying to pull my head from the doom.
‘Ava, I’ve been thinking about goody bags for launch night.’
None of this was important any more.
‘Uh huh…’ I replied testily.
‘Shouldn’t we have separate ones for the VIPs? Maybe I should write a personal note to each celebrity saying, you know: welcome to the collection, thanks so much for your commitment and love for our new activewear line, if you have any questions don’t hesitate to contact me directly, here’s my number…’
I raised an eyebrow. Who had commitment and love for an activewear brand for God’s sake? What kind of questions was Kai expecting to receive on his help-with-activewear hotline? This was all such complete and utter rubbish and it was all I could do not to smash the receiver down into the phone. But I didn’t, and Kai’s shallow and vacuous ramblings continued.
‘I’m just thinking, you know, it’s going to be great once we get these A-listers on side. Perhaps I could take them for dinner? Give them some merchandise, then call the paparazzi to take photos of us leaving. Or I could do it all on my Instagram? Is that something you could arrange?’
Kai just wanted to bag himself a celebrity pal and five minutes of parasitic fame. His plan was transparent and tragic in equal measure. Unfortunately, though, I couldn’t tell him that.
‘I think that’s a great idea, who would you like to go for dinner with first? A Kardashian?’ I was being sarcastic, but his delusion managed to cloud reality and he didn’t realise I’d checked out, that I was saying yes to any and every thing because I just didn’t care any more.
‘I love the Kardashians! I’d like to choose the venue, though. And I’ll have to get a stylist for the night. Wait, no, a glam squad.’
Clients were, save for a few exceptions, utterly hopeless. Some of the skill in my job was knowing that but making them feel like they weren’t.
‘Was there anything else?’
There wasn’t, and Kai left the call just as I spotted Josh grab his coat and head out to his meeting in Croydon. He didn’t smile at me as he left, not that I was expecting him to, and I turned my attention back to my emails. The one at the top burned hollows through my retinas.
Ava. My office please. David.
The one-line email was only five words long but it turned my world upside down. He knew. He knew about Josh and he was about to fire me. One of my hands developed an involuntary spasm and I considered that if I’d been any older I might have suffered a stroke thanks to the stress. Again, I thought about running, but some stupid part of me wanted to face up to what I’d done: the part of me naive enough to think perhaps I could talk David into forgiving me.
I rose from my desk and took my first steps up to his office. They were the hardest. My nerves were suffocating and the butterflies in my stomach felt more like giant, ugly moths. The last time I’d spoken to him he’d told me in no uncertain terms where his boundaries were: no lies. And no one else. Now I was about to tell him that not only was I seeing someone, that it was pretty serious, and that the man in question was his adopted son and sole living relative.
His PA snarled at me as I sauntered past her, ignoring her as she bleated, ‘Excuse me, you can’t just walk in, I have to check he’s ready for—’
Too late. I closed David’s office door on her, her mouth still moving, her body halfway to standing. She wasn’t a very good gatekeeper; her reaction time was appalling. I didn’t dare breathe him in. The smell of him alone was so intimidating it made me want to run and not look back. I kept the air circulating through my mouth instead. My hand rested on the door handle for a beat after it clicked shut, the contact with the metal strangely comforting. I took a quick, short breath and turned to face him.
He looked up from his desk. ‘Ava.’
His voice lurked from the other end of the room and I watched him remove a pair of reading glasses from his face. ‘Thanks for coming up.’
I hadn’t prepared any small talk. ‘No problem,’ I replied. It was all I could manage.
I took the seat across from him and sat on my hands like a schoolgirl about to be expelled. As I waited for him to speak, I found myself observing the photos on his desk and Olivia’s face beamed out at me from the frames: Spade in hand, ice cream smeared across her delighted, chubby cheeks on a pretty beach somewhere. Next to it a black and white family portrait, Olivia in the middle on her knees smiling seriously into the camera, David and his wife on either side in casual nineties attire: acid-wash Levis and giant patterned shirts. The last was a more recent picture, a selfie I’d seen on her social media: hollowed out yellow eyes, painfully thin arms, heavily overlined lips, blonde hair in waves over her right shoulder. That one killed me. She was crying out for help, the sadness emanating from her so blatant it was impossible to ignore. But we had. We all had. It made me want to weep. It made me want to travel back in time, wrap her in my arms and tell her that I was going to help her get better. But I couldn’t, of course. What was done was done. I swallowed the lump in my throat.
‘You probably know what I’m about to ask,’ he said ominously. My
mouth was completely dry, every muscle tense. ‘Where were you last night, Ava? Who were you with?’ I stopped breathing. ‘I checked the cameras to make sure you got home safely. And last night you didn’t appear. You didn’t tell me you were going anywhere…’ He spoke slowly. ‘So, tell me now. Who were you with? Where were you? This isn’t a great start to your first day as Team Head, darling.’
My hands were clasped together like a corpse. ‘With Josh,’ I managed to croak out after a pause. I could only bear to look at his face for a second as a toxic combination of anger, jealousy, confusion, bewilderment and rejection ripped across it. I felt him steady himself, noticed his breathing turn a little ragged. I don’t think I’d ever heard David breathe before, everything he did was always very purposeful: he didn’t like to be surprised. I looked at the floor, at the sea of wriggling worms I’d spilt all over it.
‘What?’ His eyes flashed dark, almost black.
‘We’re together,’ I managed to say, my focus on a tiny speck of fluff beneath his desk. My voice was meek, wretched, every fibre of my being desperate to escape. I should have run when I had the chance. In return David’s stare was blank, save for a microscopic glint of something in his eye. Had he suspected it?
‘Right,’ he pursed his lips. ‘Like to keep it in the family do you, darling?’
I felt like I’d been kicked in the head and the room span in messy circles, Olivia’s face jeering at me. I thought we were friends, Ava!
‘I feel terrible about this, I really do.’ I fought back tears.
‘You used me. You used me to get away from Charlie and what, Josh was your insurance, was he? Your back up plan? When he finds out what you’ve done, the lengths you’ve gone to, he’s, well, I guess you haven’t told him. Just as well.’ His fist connecting with the desk was furious and final. A picture frame fell from its position due to the force of the impact and scattered shards of sparkling glass across the floor. I jumped back in my seat, quivering, fear across my face.
‘Get out,’ he sneered, fire licking from the corners of his mouth.
*
The streets were empty as I jumped off the train at Pimlico station. Hot summery rain battered me from all angles, slapping against my face like it was teaching me a lesson and I walked as fast as my feet would allow through the back roads to Olivia’s house. There was only one thing I could do now.
The wind was picking up and a warm gust caught my hair, throwing it behind my shoulders, thunderous rain following like a flood; drenching me completely. I focused my attention back on the pavement ahead of me, willing it to shorten so I could reach the front door faster. In my peripheral vision standing out in the rain, I gradually became aware of a figure. Still. Tall. Obscured by the shadows. Waiting. There was no mistaking who it was.
Josh.
My heart sank as that powerful, striking face beamed at me through the drizzle. What was he doing at Olivia’s? We’d agreed he wouldn’t come here until things were ironed out with David.
‘Good timing!’ he shouted over the elements. The opposite, actually.
‘Croydon was depressing,’ he said, the normality of his conversation making me feel a thousand times worse. We’d never get back to this. Inside, I wrapped my arms as far round his back as they would go, holding him close, not caring about the rain on his trench coat, or the make-up running down my face. He kissed me on the forehead and I pulled back, looking into his eyes.
‘What are you doing here?’ I asked.
‘David called, he wanted to meet me here… He’s coming over in a bit.’
We broke apart, pulled wet overcoats from limbs, my legs almost giving way under the weight of his words.
‘How was your afternoon?’ he asked. ‘You seem a little down.’ He ran a hand through my sodden hair and lifted my chin up, forcing me to sink into his perfect proportions. ‘Does David know already?’
I paused for a moment, not quite knowing what to say.
‘My mum’s not well.’
‘What? Oh God, I had no idea, I’m so sorry.’ He angled his head slightly and looked deeper into my eyes. Could he see right through me?
‘I need to drive home tonight to see her. You’ll have to tell David on your own, I’m sorry.’
I convinced myself I was doing an OK impression of togetherness on the outside but inside my body was running riot. Light head, fast heart, shallow breath. The hallmarks of an imminent anxiety attack.
‘Can you wait half an hour?’ he asked, hopefully. ‘I’ve ordered pizza…’
If only things were that simple. My knees knocked as he went through to the kitchen and my head flipped the world a quarter turn, my ears ringing so loud it was as though it would drown everything out and break my head in two. But something pulled me back from the brink. My survival instinct, perhaps. My next step.
My escape. I rushed upstairs and flung everything I could into a suitcase. Most of this stuff probably used to be Olivia’s, but I didn’t care. I didn’t have anything of my own any more. I didn’t know what my next step was, I just knew I had to leave. I wasn’t applying any kind of considered thought process to what went in the bag. If I happened to pass it on my journey round the bedroom it was going in. If I didn’t, it wasn’t. I could go home tonight, maybe, then head for the coast. Or overseas? Amsterdam? Spain? America? I sensed Josh close in on the bedroom door and a shadow fell across the room.
‘Is everything OK?’ I jumped out of my skin as his voice cut through my planning. I took a short, shaky breath, ‘Yes, yes, of course. I just need to get back.’
He eyed up my suitcase, clothes pouring out of the top, obviously overfilled, never going to close.
‘How long are you planning to be away for?’ He shot me a look. A look that said I know you’re lying to me, but I don’t know why, I want to trust you because I love you, but you’re freaking me out. I couldn’t bear to think what his face would look like when David told him the truth; when David told him what we’d done together. David was obsessed enough with loyalty and honesty, and Josh was just the same. How had I ever thought it would be possible to get myself out of this? I tore myself away from his stare.
‘As long as I’m needed, I guess.’
Under his watchful eye the weight of my regret grew heavier and the faster I tried to move against it to leave, the harder it resisted. I felt like I was trapped in a ball pit, each movement dropping me deeper, using every ounce of adrenaline to build up the energy to thrash free, only to find it was futile. I chucked out some clothes from on top so the case would close, then zipped it up and pushed past him, running down the stairs in my race against time.
‘Call me when you get home, OK?’ His voice came from behind me as he followed me down the staircase.
‘Sure,’ I said, standing on the threshold of the front door. I looked at him from over my shoulder. ‘Apparently the traffic’s really bad. It will probably take me ages to get back. Don’t wait up.’ It took a second for me to realise I was crying. I wasn’t going to call him tonight. I wasn’t going to call him ever again.
‘Don’t cry, Ava, everything’s going to be fine. As long as we’re honest with each other, OK?’
The words hit me like acid and the floodgates well and truly opened.
He spun me round to face him and pulled me close, stemming the flow of tears with kisses and promises that he’d join me at the weekend if I was still at home, rocking us gently back and forth in our embrace, making leaving him even harder than it already was.
‘I’ll miss you,’ I sniffed, pressing my fingers into my eyes.
‘I’ll miss you, too.’
For one, bright, beautiful moment I let myself believe that we’d be reunited one day. I’d write him a letter explaining everything, he’d be angry but would forgive me after a few days of frostiness and we’d move on, eating pizza together again like nothing had ever happened. David would let me back, perhaps I’d have to work a little harder for a few months to prove myself, but then he’d promote me and
everything would get back on track. Back to normal. And it would be feasible, I guess, if I hadn’t done what I’d done. If Olivia was still alive. Because even if we got over this secret, there was another, monstrous one waiting to take its place. I know what you’ve done, the wind howled as it picked up, throwing a new flurry of rain to the ground. Something flickered in Josh’s eye as I pulled apart from him, but it was just that; a flicker. Gone before I could interpret what it meant.
‘I love you,’ I said, feebly, almost to myself, as I headed for my old, battered car.
I texted Mum before I set off, just in case Josh somehow managed to get hold of my parents. If he did, they’d deduce between them that I needed some space and would, hopefully, leave me enough time to escape.
I’m heading away for a few days, work stress, just need a bit of fresh air. Might come and visit afterwards. Ava.
*
It had taken two hours just to get out of the clutches of central London, but I was finally closing in on the countryside and the roads had shifted from wide, four-lane motorways to thin, slithery, trails. The rain had abated and the sun was setting, the sky a watercolour of pinks, greys and reds. I imagined the air outside smelt damp and dewy. I’d decided to drive towards Oxford and stop at the first hotel I liked the look of. My head was still thick and woolly from blubbering through my goodbyes to Josh and, although the panic hadn’t completely subsided, I knew that was just because my body didn’t have the energy to sustain it. I’d spent most of the journey imagining the scenario of David turning up at the flat minutes after I’d left. He’d tell Josh all about us and Josh would be blindsided, trying his best to make sense of it all. He’d be furious. David would calm him down. He’d reassure Josh that I wouldn’t have a job at the agency any more and that he should move on. I imagined Josh saying to David that Charlie had been right about me all along. That I was a cheater. That I was dishonest. That I’d only ever been out for myself. That I’d used them both to get ahead. She wasn’t quite clever enough to pull it off, though, was she? he’d say to David. David would give Jade the Team Head job, she’d move into my office and, soon enough, they’d forget I’d ever worked there. Every trace of me erased.