The Liars

by Naomi Joy

  A yellow glare filled my rear-view mirror and I looked up, stupidly, blinding myself. It flashed again and again, and I blinked quickly trying to rid my retinas of the misshapen objects temporarily tattooed across them. The car behind was an SUV of some kind. I slowed my pace, perhaps they wanted to overtake?

  Wrong.

  The beams fired again in my mirror, longer this time, and my heart started to race. I turned off the radio and pushed my foot to the floor, accelerating away with a determined growl of the engine. With the music stopped, the situation felt all the more threatening and I hummed quietly, pretending to myself that everything was fine. I kept one eye on the road ahead, one eye behind. I didn’t know what to do. The car flashed its indicator and the driver, who I couldn’t make out thanks to their blinding light show, was waving their arm out of the window. They wanted me to pull over. I kept driving for a moment but, when the headlights flashed for a third time and the indicator went on, I decided to comply.

  My car’s engine spluttered as it idled by the side of the road, the indicator ticking away rhythmically. My breath was short and I wiggled my toes in my trainers as I waited. Was it an undercover officer? Maybe my brake lights were faulty. A problem with my insurance? I heard a car door opening, the leather of my car seat squeaking as I lent closer towards the rear-view mirror, but I could only make out shadows behind the headlights. Perhaps it was just a concerned member of the public letting me know my boot was half-open, or that a pheasant was trapped on the back bumper. The door slammed shut decisively.

  I knew I should get out of the car to talk to the stranger, any normal person would, but I felt uneasy and kept my hand locked round the steering wheel in case I needed to make a quick getaway. The figure came into view. My body braced, confused. What are you doing here?

  I didn’t understand what was happening until it was too late. My foot searched for the accelerator and my hand flailed, trying to release my seatbelt, but I hadn’t managed to make contact with either before the window had smashed next to me and a gloved hand raced to cover my mouth, strong and synthetic, forcing the scream that was hurtling out back inside my body. The engine cut as the key was pulled from the ignition and I grabbed for my attacker’s face, hair, anything that might have hindered their progress. But it was futile. My attempts to escape ending with my wrists being bound, the strength of my attacker’s one arm completely outmatching my two. Before I could breathe, one hand had clamped round my mouth, the other round my wrist, so hard I could feel my pulse against their grip. Both were steadfast and my eyes darted wildly from left to right inside their sockets. I tried to wriggle free by arching my back and kicking out my legs, bruising them as they came into harsh contact with the car surrounding me. My breathing was frantic, panicked, accompanied by frightened, muffled whimpers. Then, one hand moved away from my mouth and into the attacker’s pocket. They grabbed a dirty rag. I only registered this was happening when it was heading back towards me. At that moment, my brain engaged its ill-trained survival instinct and I used everything in me to scream, as loudly as humanly possible, guttural and savage, for anybody nearby. The person moved faster, unnerved by the strength of my cry, and I snapped my head rapidly from side to side, changing tack, gluing my mouth firmly shut – knowing they wanted to muzzle me with the cloth.

  My attacker’s gloved fingers prised open the corners of my mouth and I resisted as best I could, the smell of the mouldy rag enough to engage my gag reflex. My jaw ached as I fought against the force and I could feel my reserves burning up. Soon I’d be fighting with adrenaline alone. I knew if I didn’t break free now I never would. The headlights still burned brightly and streaked across my line of vision as I looked up momentarily, then, I disarmed my attacker for a moment by opening my mouth wide, biting down, quickly, hard, on the hand trying to push the rag inside me. I heard the crunch, the break of fragile bones underneath my determined teeth, but the person didn’t let go, stifling a cry before summoning some super-human strength to finally force the wet cloth into my mouth. I choked as my tongue tried to escape down my throat to avoid touching its surface. They tied the ends of the gag behind my head and pulled it tight, ripping the corners of my lips open, fresh blood spilling from each. Barely able to breathe, tears streaking down my face, I looked up, right into those eyes, silently pleading. Please don’t do this.

  A noxious smell surrounded me and I shook my head frantically, kicking my legs up against the steering wheel once again and away from the poison cloth in their hand. It was a useless protest and my vision soon cut out as the smell covered my face, eyelids twisting against the material, lashes folding inwards. My heart thundered. Adrenaline saturated my body. Fight, fight, fight. My breath was shallow and incredibly fast, trying to keep up, forcing my brain away from the darkness and its gaping, black, terror. My body tangled and turned, fighting until the end, until there was nothing.

  7 Days Later

  PUBLIC APPEAL AGAINST POLICE DECISION TO RULE AVA WELLS A RUNAWAY

  Seven days ago, twenty-eight-year- old Ava Wells was reported missing from her Pimlico home by her boyfriend Joshua Stein. Today, Ava Wells’ parents are urging the public to ‘stop turning up at their home’ and to ‘respect the Met’s investigation’, as concerns mount against the force’s decision to downgrade the search in the light of evidence unearthed during their brief investigation.

  Ava’s final moments have been released by the police in their entirety as they defend their move to scale back the operation amidst public pressure, which started on social media but has transformed into a very real-world presence. Detective Inspector Frederick Crow said, ‘As has been widely reported in the media already: Prior to her disappearance on the afternoon of June 12th, Ava Wells packed a bag, bought a one-way ticket to Dublin, ordered 1,000 Euros, and drove from her central London home on a route towards Heathrow Airport. Ava’s car was left in a short stay car park at the airport and no unusual DNA or fingerprints, other than those who had access to the car, were present. Ava sent a text message to her parents in the hours before her drive to say that she needed to get away. She told her parents she was stressed at work. Ava Wells boarded her flight to Dublin International Airport that same day and we are in touch with Irish officials to pinpoint her exact location.

  ‘We would like to take this opportunity to remind the public that it is an adult’s legal right to leave the country without necessarily telling their loved ones why they are leaving. We understand this is an incredibly difficult time, but the Wells family does not doubt that Ava left London willingly, and we ask that the media, and members of the public, respect their privacy. We will continue to work with our counterparts in the ROI to come to a swift resolution on the matter.’

  36

  Jade

  The entire office had descended into chaos as soon as Ava was reported missing. Josh still wasn’t at work – everyone knew about their relationship now – Georgette was inconsolably hysterical, Kai was acting like Queen Victoria in her mourning years, and I was left to pick up everything Ava had left behind.

  David had hastily organised a meeting with me this morning, he was back in the building after helping the police with their enquiries, and my hands wouldn’t stop shaking as I knocked apprehensively on his office door. I prayed his head was full of Ava and that he’d put his investigations into my whereabouts on the night Olivia died on hold.

  I’d just about been allowed past by his fire-breathing gatekeeper and her questions had already put me on edge. It was the first time I’d been permitted into his lair and my brain was scrambled, vividly depicting catastrophic events I might have to contend with in the coming minutes. He might accuse me of something. He might fire me on the spot. He might kill me. I clamped my right hand into a fist. It was time for fight not flight, and a super-human voice somewhere above me shouted over the negative and repeated phrases of encouragement. I drew that voice to the foreground for once and allowed it to give me the strength to keep putting one foot in front of the oth
er.

  This is it. This is the moment you’ve been waiting for.

  It’s all going to be yours.

  Forget about her.

  You’re doing the right thing.

  Everything in David’s office was designed to intimidate. From the throne-like chair he occupied, to the black marble decor that made the room feel like an exclusive members’ only club in the Far East rather than an office in London. It hadn’t been very long since we’d sat face to face in that awful interview, David issuing questions, doling out veiled threats, and his haunted irises were all I could think about as I approached. I persuaded my reluctant feet to keep moving, to take a seat opposite the man who struck fear into me, and timidly shuffled towards him, my hands clenched together, my heeled brogues scuffing against the floor. ‘One moment, Jade.’

  His words were direct, but his focus was on the screen in front of him as he finished up typing. I sat, then tucked and crossed my feet beneath me. Even the whites of his eyes were tinged yellow today and he squinted slightly as he concentrated. I guess he hadn’t had much sleep. I stole a look outside the floor-to-ceiling window to my right while I waited for his next instruction. The height we were at distorted the view of the people below so that from here they looked like nothing more than busy little insects buzzing from A to B. Even though each of them must have had a mission, a purpose, it seemed so insignificant from all the way up here. One group would cross at the traffic lights below, then, just a few seconds later, a new, identical group would take their place. It was hard to care about people when they were that small: such little people with their tiny little problems. Not like mine.

  ‘Nice to see you,’ he said, and I snapped my head back towards him, finding the courage to look into that chiselled, cavernous face.

  ‘Jade, with Ava missing I’d like you to accept the position of Team Head. Staff need strong leadership at times like this and I’m looking to you to galvanize everyone.’

  David liked to get to the point, his delivery stern and sincere. I floundered for the right thing to say, so often tongue-tied in his presence, today no exception. This was slightly different though; it was jubilation bursting from my chest which I had to hide and it was all I could do not to jump up and down and punch the air with glee. I was so proud of myself! He saw in me a strong and courageous leader, which was exactly what I was.

  ‘David, I wholeheartedly accept. Thank you for the opportunity.’

  I heard the words back as soon as I stopped talking and realised too late how much I sounded like an over-eager contestant on The Apprentice.

  Why couldn’t I just be normal? He bowed his head; I was dismissed. I had some questions, though, and I tried my hardest to make my tone more assertive.

  ‘Can I just ask, is this position mine now? There’s no rescinding the offer if Ava returns?’

  ‘The position is yours.’

  David had already turned back to his computer screen.

  ‘I’d like to tell the team today, if that’s OK? Then I’ll move my things into Ava’s office. I’ll make sure all her stuff is kept and boxed up.’

  I rose from my seat, brimming with confidence and pride. I’d done it, against the odds, I’d actually bloody gone and done it!

  ‘Whatever you think is best,’ he replied, but I wasn’t sure he’d heard what I said.

  I skipped back from David’s office as if he’d given me a gold star. My soul was healing at last, this promotion solidifying eight years of blood, sweat and tears, and the feeling of unbridled happiness confirmed to me that it had been worth fighting for. You might have beaten Ava to the job, but she ran rings round you for Josh. And wasn’t he the real prize, anyway?

  I silenced the voice. Things weren’t over for Josh and me. So what if our virtual relationship hadn’t amounted to anything yet? It would. At least I hoped it would, as soon as he knew the truth about Ava. It was just telling him about her that was the problem. It seemed a touch insensitive to show him the picture of Ava and David together when he was out every day trying to figure out where she’d gone.

  As I strutted back to my desk, a foot taller than when I’d left, I thought about the looks he’d given me; there’d never been any malice in his pale, husky eyes or deceit in those thick, dark lashes. He hadn’t deserved to be chewed up and spit out by someone like her. But, when the time was right, I would heal him, I would teach him how to love again.

  Perhaps all of this was meant to happen? I thought, as I kicked out my padded chair, turned, and let my weight fall into it. The Universe, in her divine wisdom, always did exactly what she was supposed to do – it just sometimes took a while before it all made sense. I picked up a hairband from my desk and fixed my black locks into a high ponytail, scraping the wisps at the back of my neck up into it, not bothered that they’d come loose in a matter of moments. I glanced at the empty seat that used to be Georgette’s, still covered in long strands of her dead, dyed hair. She’d barely spoken to me since Ava went missing and had moved her stuff back to the main bullpen with the rest of the team where she used to sit. Their desks were small and cramped, table-top plants grew on top of swollen in-trays, old make-up sat drying out on their tables next to highlighted notes and old client presentations. I didn’t care. I mean, I didn’t understand why she’d want to go back to that, but I didn’t care.

  Time to focus on my number one priority. I hammered out an email to the team.

  Emergency meeting in the boardroom, reschedule anything, this is important.

  I got up and made my way to the meeting room, waiting impatiently for my lazy workers to peel themselves from their seats and join me. What was it about the word emergency that they didn’t understand? I watched as they moved like elephants through treacle and drummed my fingers against the glass table to externalise my irritation, which was growing by the second as the infuriating tick-tick-tick of the clock on the wall reminded me that precious seconds of my life were being wasted. Finally, once my troops had gathered, I addressed them.

  ‘Right, now that everyone’s finally here, I have an announcement to make.’ I raised my voice in the style of a drill sergeant addressing a fresh intake of soldiers.

  I paused for dramatic effect.

  ‘I am your new Team Head.’ Eyes widened, palms twitched, heads spun.

  I was caught off-guard for a moment, disappointed that there hadn’t been even an attempt at applause or congratulations from my squadron.

  I persevered, my disappointment bringing out my inner dictator.

  ‘And I’ll be starting right away. This team hasn’t had good leadership for a while and it’s time to set that back on track. First of all, I’d like to meet with each of you separately.’

  The atmosphere turned dark and a girl with dimples and gold rings shuffled from one foot to the other, moving her weight to try to relieve some of the tension in the room.

  ‘Georgette, I’ll start with you.’ She looked like she was spoiling for World War III. ‘The rest of you are free to go.’

  Georgette didn’t move a muscle, her lack of respect clearly communicated through her refusal to adopt a less casual pose, and, as we waited for the room to empty, she continued her display of defiance, leaning casually against the glass wall, twiddling her pen between her fingers, a sarcastic smirk across her face. The rest of the girls left without so much as a whisper; the movement of bodies, the hum of tension and the anticipation of a mass-exodus at lunchtime so they could gossip, the only silent sounds.

  ‘Take a seat,’ I told Georgette, once the door had closed behind us.

  ‘I’d prefer to stand.’

  We stood at opposite ends of the room. I thought about a Sheriff busting in and breaking up our duel. But she didn’t realise it was the new Jade Fernleigh she was facing: the one who takes first place, rather than waiting forever for someone to give it to her.

  ‘No, you’ll sit,’ I said again, this time much more deliberately and clearly to put across my meaning; there was no option here, this J
ade did not put up with dissent in the ranks.

  I sat first, to show her, and she followed, reluctantly wrapping her hand round the nearest chair then sliding it out to the side of her, scraping it along the wood floor to cause a set of deliberately piercing vibrations. I winced. She sat in an equally laborious motion and didn’t tuck the chair back in, choosing to sit away from the table. It was pathetic, she was acting like a petulant teenager.

  ‘Georgette, do you like your job?’ I said, looking down at my notepad, then directly at her. My question was greeted with derision.

  ‘What do you think?’

  ‘There’s no need to be obtuse.’

  ‘I’d say I liked it until about five minutes ago,’ she scoffed.

  ‘So, you wouldn’t be too bothered if you no longer worked here?’

  I delivered the question as more of a statement.

  ‘I wouldn’t say that…’

  I detected a quiver in her voice.

  ‘OK… so you want to keep your job? That’s interesting,’ I said, just to annoy her. ‘The problem is though, I don’t believe you, and I don’t have any patience for liars.’ I’d been taking notes from David Stein’s interview technique. The look on her face changed and she took a moment to respond.

  ‘What have I ever done to you, Jade?’

  My jaw dropped at her question and I practically spat out my response, losing my cool for a moment. ‘You chose Ava when you were supposed to work for me! You called me a bitch at the summer party. You take everything anyone says and relay it round the office like a human parrot wearing circus make-up. You’re lazy, sluggish, you make too many mistakes, and it’s all because you don’t respect me and you don’t listen. Well, that’s all about to change.’