The Liars

by Naomi Joy

  I started to pace, piecing it all together. ‘She wanted to humiliate me. She was doing everything in her power to stop me from getting the Team Head position. It’s exactly the kind of thing she’d do. I’ve been so stupid. I can’t believe I didn’t realise it until now.’ I mused and muttered then noticed Olivia standing in the doorway. I shouted at her to leave us alone.

  ‘Slow down…’ he said, his eyes pleading with me. ‘Wasn’t it George who took the job from you? Couldn’t it just as easily have been her?’ Georgette’s smug face smacked me sideways as I thought of the way she’d looked at me as she’d taken my seat. Then of the large pictures that had been printed out and stuck up all over my office on my first day in charge.

  ‘She betrayed me, too.’

  ‘Everyone’s out to get you, aren’t they?’

  He said it like I was imagining things.

  For a moment everything fell quiet and I watched as Josh rubbed his tired eyes with the back of his hand.

  ‘Where do you think she is, Jade? Where has she gone?’

  I looked at him.

  ‘You actually love her, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes,’ he answered.

  Slashes across my heart.

  ‘What about me?’ I squeaked, not looking him in the eye, already knowing the answer. ‘Do you even like me?’

  ‘Of course I like you Jade—’

  ‘—just not like that,’ I finished.

  He looked at me and raised his shoulders to his ears.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ His face fell as he let me down.

  A short time later smoke billowed out of the top of the oven and, though I’d been sure I’d set the oven to fan, it had somehow switched to grill. The pie was burnt and I binned it. Instead we ate cheese toasties together and shared a bottle of wine. We talked about work, we shared stories about Olivia and, when I returned home in the early hours of the next morning, despite the fact that the love of my life had rejected me, I reflected it had still been the best night of my life.

  BOYFRIEND OF MISSING WOMAN ENTERTAINS LATE NIGHT GUEST

  Joshua Stein, boyfriend of missing Ava Wells, was paid a visit by a late-night guest last night.

  The woman, identified as Jade Fernleigh, Joshua Stein’s colleague at top PR agency Watson & Stein Partners, is reported by sources close to those involved to have an ‘unhealthy infatuation’ with Josh, and a ‘bitter rivalry’ with missing Ava.

  Our exclusive pictures appear to show the pair sharing a bottle of wine and enjoying a cosy night in at the property where Ava had been living before she disappeared.

  ‘If I was missing, I wouldn’t be very happy if my boyfriend spent the time drinking wine with another woman. I think it’s suspicious,’ said @MaryF1 on Twitter.

  Despite these pictures casting a whole new light on the situation, police maintain Ava Wells is a runaway, regardless of there being no word from authorities in Ireland as to her whereabouts.

  If you have any more information about the woman in this picture, please ring our newsdesk. And remember: we pay our sources!

  41

  Jade

  I woke up in my own bed, my mind tired, but relaxed. Last night had been good for me. Finding out Josh wasn’t behind the messages had knocked me for six, but his honesty had given me a renewed sense of calm.

  And then I’d turned on the radio.

  ‘Reports are coming out this morning that Josh Stein is keen to distance himself from Jade Fernleigh, the woman he shared a cosy night in with last night. He said in a statement: “The pictures surfacing this morning have been taken wildly out of context. Jade Fernleigh is a colleague, she is barely a friend, and she stopped by last night to discuss work-related matters. I hope by speaking out I can end these rumours and focus the investigation back on what really matters: finding Ava.”

  ‘We’ll bring you more updates on the fascinating case of Ava Wells as we get them.’

  His statement would only fan the flames. Didn’t Josh realise that? Didn’t he know anything about the industry we worked in?

  I made my way shakily down the stairs, I wasn’t sure what time it was but the air was heavy and the sun had revitalised the smell of last night’s mince in the kitchen.

  Hang on, I thought. Josh knew exactly the effect a statement like that would have on the media.

  Had he done it on purpose?

  Why was he trying to poison the public against me?

  The letterbox rang out as I stood still on the sticky linoleum floor, its tinny timbre reverberating through my ear canal before snaking its way up to my brain. I swivelled my head towards the noise. I didn’t like the sound of it. The way it had opened slowly, then banged shut. I turned on my heels and opened the door to the hallway area. The smell of dank, leaking pipes was overwhelmingly strong and I covered my nose with my pyjama sleeve to avoid breathing the mouldy air directly. The blood drained from my cheeks as I saw my face staring back at me from the newspaper front cover just delivered. Dishevelled, scared and hollow: the sixteen-year-old me. The girl I’d tried so hard to bury was back with a bang, this time on the cover of one of the country’s most popular tabloids.

  I picked up the crisp paper in my hand, the corners shaking as I failed to control my grip. I hadn’t ordered this, someone had put it directly through my letterbox.

  COLLEAGUES CLOSE TO MISSING AVA WELLS SPEAK OUT

  It was as though the headline had sprung out from the page and hit me with a lethal left hook. I was momentarily breathless and took a couple of uneven steps backward before the wall broke my progress. I slumped down, my muscles providing no resistance, sending me to the floor amongst weeks and weeks of unopened letters and overdue bills. I devoured every word.

  Colleagues close to Ava Wells, angry at the lack of action in her case, speak out today in an exclusive interview. They highlight what they feel have been ‘catastrophic failures’ in the Metropolitan Police Force’s handling of the investigation, which they believe should be re-classified as a kidnapping or suspected murder.

  Their explosive claims will add to the already heavily scrutinised case which now enters its third week without any word from Irish authorities on Miss Wells’ whereabouts.

  Meanwhile, public pressure mounts on the Government, with many taking to social media to lambast the Prime Minister for further police cuts. Roy Turnbull, a former officer, said, ‘The force is squeezed enough focusing on protecting our borders; there’s no money and no time for fighting crime at home. It’s a disgrace that we can’t look after our own.’

  A protest will take place outside Scotland Yard this weekend if a major breakthrough in the case isn’t made, or more police funding isn’t pledged specifically for solving the Ava Wells mystery.

  I skimmed over the rest of the words, my ragged breathing keeping me alert, my rough, dry tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth.

  Josh had something to do with Ava’s disappearance. He must have orchestrated this witchhunt: the timing was too much of a coincidence. I had to see him again. I had to know.

  42

  Jade

  I shifted my weight from side to side, nervous as I waited for him to answer. The news crews recognised me from yesterday and had started to appear from their vans, cameras in tow. I knocked again, harder this time, more urgently.

  ‘Josh!’ I shouted. He flung the door open, but pressed his body in the space between, stopping me from coming inside. I made a move forward but, when he didn’t budge, got the message.

  ‘Jade, this has to stop. I’m in the middle of something.’

  ‘Why is everyone talking about me Josh? Why is everyone online saying I’ve got something to do with Ava? What did you do, Josh?’

  ‘Did you, Jade? It’s just – your behaviour…’

  I swore loudly at him and he looked at me pitifully.

  ‘Jade, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to come here again.’

  A switch inside me flicked and I stuck my foot in the doorframe so he couldn’t close
it on me.

  ‘She wasn’t so perfect, Josh! She was cheating on you!’

  ‘What? Jade, please, keep your voice down …’

  A sinister grin wrapped its way round my face.

  ‘She was seeing David behind your back! She was, I have the proof!’ My voice was high pitched and jubilant.

  But he didn’t believe me.

  ‘You need to leave,’ he said, firmly, pushing the door against my foot.

  ‘Josh. Listen. I just want to talk…’ I was fumbling in my pocket for my phone, I wanted to show him the picture of Ava and David together. Then he’d believe me. Then he’d realise it was she who’d sent me the messages, that it was her devious lies that had got her into some other mess…

  His forehead tightened and he took a step back inside. At last he was letting me in. I pulled my foot back to join him and, at that moment, he thudded his palm against the door, slamming it shut in my face. With that final, brutal, rejection a tidal wave of emotion ripped through me. I’d lost everything: my job, my future, my Josh.

  And now everyone thought I was guilty of kidnapping, or murder.

  You are guilty of murder, Jade.

  I unleashed a flood of fists on Josh’s front door, refusing to leave, crying out to him to let me in. I didn’t recognise my own voice, shrill and barbaric, as it warbled and wailed.

  He was the way back to my job!

  He was the way back to happiness!

  He was the only one who could help!

  After all the energy had left my bruised bones and I could no longer thump, my voice broken and unable to cry out, I fell down into a crumpled heap, resting my heavy head against the door, my body balanced on the flagstone step below, cold seeping into my bones. I was vaguely aware of the sounds of cameras clicking as I inspected my fists, cut and swollen from their gladiator-worthy effort. I wished I’d been the one who was dead.

  ‘You need to move on from this address, Miss,’ someone in dark trousers said. At that point it hit me and I bolted, running away from it all, away from the rejection, away from the pain, away from Josh. All I could do was go back home, to misery, confusion and loneliness. What was I supposed to do now my life had fallen apart?

  COLLEAGUES OF JADE FERNLEIGH AND AVA WELLS LEND THEIR VOICES TO MISSING PERSONS CASE

  ‘When Ava first disappeared, the first thing Jade asked me to do was clear out Ava’s desk – I think Jade knew she’d never be coming back to it.’ Georgette Giani, 31, Team Head at Watson & Stein Partners with experience working with both Jade and Ava, lends her voice to the missing Ava Wells case, who disappeared from her home address a number of days ago. Ms Giani spoke to one of our reporters in an explosive, tell-all interview, waiving her right to anonymity in a quest to shake up the police handling of the case.

  ‘The first question I want to ask is: do you believe Jade Fernleigh is capable of murder?’

  ‘Absolutely. She’s capable of anything, she doesn’t understand the meaning of the word empathy, she’s one of the most selfish and sociopathic people I’ve ever met. Put it this way, I’ve never met anyone with such a one-track mind as Jade Fernleigh. The only thing that mattered to her was ruining Ava’s life. She wanted to be promoted over her, she wanted to steal her boyfriend, and the thought, even the thought, that she might not be successful at doing so was driving her crazy. It’s awful that the police haven’t come to question us at work in detail about her, I’m telling you: she did this.’

  Freya Hanlin, 22, an Executive at Watson & Stein Partners, also spoke out. ‘Jade’s behaviour completely changed when Ava went missing. She turned into a megalomaniac, obsessed with her new power as Team Head.’

  ‘Just to clarify for our readers, am I right in saying that Jade was promoted to the Team Head position almost as soon as Ava went missing?’

  ‘Correct. There were other things too, she dyed her hair blonde – Ava’s hair was blonde – and she started doing her make-up kind of like Ava used to, she even wore a top that we all knew Ava owned. I don’t know if Ava was wearing it the night of her disappearance, but the police need to find out; if so, it could be a major clue.’

  43

  No, this revelation isn’t part of your plan. You want the police to believe Ava’s gone willingly: no foul play, no investigation, no awkward questions. That’s how you like it: that’s how you’d planned it. Nothing suspicious, nothing messy.

  But you know what has to be done: you have to adapt to the new situation. You have no choice.

  She lies in the room next door, drugged and heavy.

  She hadn’t come without a fight, I suppose you knew she wouldn’t. People tend to fight for their lives, even when it’s futile.

  But taking her had worked. If anyone had seen, they would have spoken to the papers already. The papers make hiding in plain sight so easy. They give people like you all the clues you need, parroting to the masses exactly what the police know, what they don’t, what they suspect.

  She was followed all the way from London, a comfortable distance between the cars. She didn’t notice, she’s not particularly observant. She didn’t watch the roads turn silent and the CCTV non-existent. Didn’t clock the familiar number plate.

  You loved her, you thought she loved you. She was your girl. You should have been together for the rest of your lives, but she ruined it. She ruined everything.

  She sleeps now, the girl, blonde-haired and beautiful. She sleeps in the room you set up for her when you realised she’d lied to you. Betrayed you.

  You are alone with her now.

  You watch her.

  You touch her.

  You take off her muzzle.

  The cuts on her mouth have yellowed and scabbed over. You run your thumb along her plump lips.

  You put the cloth back in her mouth, feeling her tongue, and fasten the tie back round her tangled hair.

  Smudges of mascara dirty her pale pink cheeks. You brush them away.

  Her clothes ripped during the struggle. You run your fingers all over her body. You wonder if she still loves you. Your girl. She smells earthier than you remember.

  She doesn’t deserve to die so easily. Not until she knows the reason why.

  44

  Jade

  The police were knocking on my door. I knew it was them, I knew they’d come for me like this and the sound of the heavy knock I’d just heard, rat-a-tat-tat, said it all. I’d endured more than a fortnight of stories and gossip and rumour about my apparent involvement in Ava’s disappearance so in a way I was ready for this. Prepared.

  ‘Miss Fernleigh?’ A muffled voice called for me through the wooden barrier between us.

  My head was a mess and, as I opened the door just a crack, became increasingly aware of the two-week-old clothes I was standing in.

  The main officer noticeably grimaced as the smell of the damp, soggy, pipes escaped from the confined hallway, her chin doubling as she recoiled her head against her neck. I observed her tight little bun and imagined she was the type of person who filled sachets with potpourri and hung them in her wardrobe.

  She regained her composure. ‘We need to ask you a few questions about the disappearance of Miss Ava Wells.’

  I observed her through the thin slither I’d opened to the outside world and thought how easy it would be to shut her out again and turn away from this problem. I would just close the door, walk back into the lounge, and lie on the sofa.

  ‘Miss Fernleigh, we’d like to question you at the station.’ She placed her palm flat against the front door and tried to open it further, but I was too quick and slammed it shut, bolting the top and bottom locks, screaming in my head to drown out the noise of the officers ordering me to let them in.

  The cops crashed through the front door seconds later and ripped me from my home, wrestling me from my hovel out into the unfamiliar outside world, hands tight round my wrists, pressure on the back of my neck. The light outside was blinding and I closed my eyes to stop it burning holes in my pupils, stumbling as
I failed to negotiate the step down to the pavement. New hands wrapped round me, holding my shoulders, one on my forehead. I peeped out from the darkness as they bent my body into the waiting police car and, through the gaps between limbs and armour, I swear I saw her across the street, her yellow hair glowing in the sunlight, squinting her eyes as she peered through the glare to see me properly. She had a child by her side, tugging at her shirt. She picked him up and stroked his tiny head as they watched me drive away, cuffed and cornered.

  45

  Ava

  My heartbeat felt as though it was in my skull, and pain from the swelling on my brain roared and pressed against the bones in my head as I came round. My eyes were so dry it hurt to open them even the smallest amount. My mouth was full, choking on an enormous gritty surface, the corners of my lips cut and pulled taut, forcing me to contort my face into a maniacal grin. I checked my fingers and toes were still there. They didn’t respond immediately and my mind raced to thoughts of paralysis but, after a while, they twitched as the familiar feeling of blood rushed back to revive them. I could tell they’d been bound. Rope burned against my skin as I moved tentatively, testing the barriers of an incredible escape. I dug my fingernails into my hands, cut through the skin and feverishly gathered my own DNA underneath each nail, staining each a rusty brown.

  For a second, I felt there was no point in fighting, my mind had assessed the situation like a computer and decided resistance was futile, but then a breath came sharply back into my lungs and changed everything.

  I waited for a few moments, emptied and filled my body with as much air as I could, then let the memories of earlier re-form, loading the colours, voices, thoughts and feelings back into my mind, the pictures playing before my closed eyes.

  Fear danced round my limp body, but the breath in my lungs willed me to act and encouraged me to fight.

  I tested the rope round my wrists again. Too tight. My skin screamed in protest as I tried rubbing myself free for a second time. I opened my eyes.