She places her hands into her coat pocket and inches closer to the edge; the toes of her Converse trainers hovering over it, only the weight of her heels keeping her alive. Then she closes her eyes and sucks in a deep breath.
‘Hel!’
She twists her head, sees Eddie clambering over the ridge. He has both hands held up and his palms out as he inches slowly towards her.
She wipes at her face, then darts at him.
‘Oh, Eddie,’ she says wrapping her arms around his head and neck. They squeeze each other as tightly as they possibly can. ‘I’m so sorry. So sorry.’
Eddie brings one of his hands to the back of Helen’s head, taking a fistful of her orange hair. Then he yanks it back a little, so that her head tilts and he can stare into her eyes.
‘It’s not you who needs to apologise. It’s me. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for telling you to go home and watch your soaps. I’m sorry you found out about this case. I’m sorry I haven’t been checking up on you as much as I should…. It’s just been such a manic night, a manic investigation and… and…’ He holds a hand to his face, to cover his tears. He hates crying, does Eddie. Only ever cried in his own company after Scott’s suicide.
The two of them shake their heads, then they just grab each other closer again.
‘I just want to know…’ Helen sobs on his shoulder, ‘what happened to them. What the hell went on that night.’
‘Sweetie,’ Eddie says pushing his wife away again so he can stare into her face. ‘How many times do I need to tell you?’
‘I know. I know,’ Helen says, shaking her head. ‘I will never know what happened.’
Eddie purses his lips.
‘You can’t keep punishing yourself. We have to accept that we will never know what happened. We’ll never be able to get inside their heads.’
Helen takes a deep breath, then blows it out through her lips; tears spraying either side of her.
‘I should have known as soon as suicide was mentioned in the station earlier that you would’ve been affected by it. I was too bloody concerned with Alan Keating that I… I…’
‘Don’t blame yourself, Eddie,’ Helen says. ‘You’d think twenty-two years later that I’d be able to hear the word suicide and not have it trigger me. I just… I’m not sure I’ll ever get over it. Not in this life.’
Eddie wraps his arm around the back of Helen’s head and pulls it towards him, so that her chin rests on his shoulder.
‘Well… we’re going to get away from this life,’ he whispers. ‘On the way over here I made a phone call.’ Helen opens her eyes. ‘I spoke with Dickinson, told him I would be handing in my resignation first thing in the morning. I’m done. I’m retiring. And you and I…’
Helen takes her head off her husband’s shoulder, bringing her nose to touch his.
‘We’re moving to Canada?’ she says, unable to hide a joy that bubbles up within her. She laughs as she says it, spraying tears onto Eddie’s face.
Then Eddie kisses her forehead.
‘We’re moving to Canada,’ he says.
Helen wraps her arms as tightly around her husband’s waist as she can and uses all her might to lift his feet a few inches off the ground.
When she releases, allowing his heels to rest back down to the ledge, he laughs.
‘It’s the right time,’ he says. ‘To hell with this job. To hell with chasing around after ass holes like Keating and looking like a mug. I’m done. We spent the last twenty-two years chasing my dream of becoming a superintendent. Now — for the next twenty-two years — it’s all about you. All about us. A new life.’
He brushes a strand of hair away from Helen’s face and the two of them grin at each other as wide as they possibly can.
‘C’mon,’ he says, gripping Helen’s hand. ‘Let’s get back down to earth.’
They make their way to the steps and clunk down them with their arms wrapped around each other.
‘I’ll book the flights in the morning,’ Helen says. ‘When do you think we can leave?’
Eddie puffs out a laugh.
‘I’m supposed to give two months notice, but Dickinson said he’ll do his best to shorten that for me and ensure I get the full pension too.’
Helen squeezes her husband into her hip. It seems strangely eerie that Eddie would inform her of her new life at the exact same spot her old life ended. But she’s super excited. This is the giddiest she’s been in twenty-two years.
‘Okay then… well, I’ll book the flights for two months from now anyway. It’ll give us a chance to say goodbye to everyone, to get the house on the market.’
Eddie releases his grip on his wife, then jumps down to the pavement before holding his two hands aloft. He catches Helen as she leaps towards him and they wrap themselves in a tight embrace again.
‘Did I get you into a whole load of trouble?’ Helen asks.
Eddie sniffs out a laugh.
‘Not much more than usual. Nothing I can’t handle.’
They smile at each other again, then Helen leans her head onto her husband’s shoulder, offering one more apology with body language rather than words as they stroll onto Rathmines’ main road.
‘I’m parked over here. Where’s your car?’ Eddie asks, pressing at his key ring, making his headlights flash.
Helen squints her eyes a little, then holds her hand over her mouth.
‘What?’ Eddie asks as Helen takes a few steps onto the road.
Eddie follows her, tracking her line of vision down a line of parked cars until he sees what she’s staring at; a cop car, its headlight smashed, its bumper hanging off.
‘Oh sweet Jesus,’ he says.
The End.
Did you…
…miss all of the clues to that twist ending?
Well, watch this short interview with author David B. Lyons in which he talks you through each and every one.
Get ready to kick yourself!
www.subscribepage.com/thesuicidepact
It is estimated that 1.3 million people will commit suicide this year.
That means one person will die from suicide in the time it takes you to read the words on this single page.
If you suffer with depression, please reach out and talk to somebody.
Here is a list of helplines from certain regions of the world.
Ireland: Pieta House 1800 247 247
United Kingdom: Mind 0300 123 3393
United States of America: ASFP 1-800-273-8255
Canada: The Lifeline 1-833-456-4566
Australia: Lifeline 131114
New Zealand: Lifeline 0800 543354
India: AASRA +91 22 2754 6669
Or — from anywhere in the world — visit:
www.befrienders.org
Read more from David B. Lyons
THE TICK-TOCK TRILOGY
Midday
Whatever Happened to Betsy Blake?
The Suicide Pack
THE TRIAL TRILOGY
She Said, Three Said
The Curious Case of Faith & Grace
The Coincidence
Acknowledgements
This was far from an easy write. So a massive, massive thank you to my wife, Kerry, and daughter, Lola, for living with a forty-year-old who was trying to live inside the head of two depressed thirteen-year-olds for a few of months. Your patience is a virtue. You both inspire me every day.
This particular novel is dedicated to my mam – Joan. She’s off-her-head hilarious in that unique way only Irish mothers can be.
Thank you so much for never being one of those parents who said “sure what would ye wanna do that for?” when their son tells them they want to write. When I was transfixed with writing in school, you always encouraged me. When I told you I wanted to quit my insurance job to go back and study journalism, you didn’t question my decision.
When I recorded you and the neighbours up in the local club one evening as research for the first (and only) sitcom I wrote, you never said, “what t
’fuck are ye doing?”
When I quit writing music and football articles for national newspapers and websites in order to study literature you never said “but you’ll be earning feck all money, son”.
You always trusted that I was making the right decisions for myself.
And that’s the sorta shit great parents do.
Thank you for being a great parent.
I guess I gotta thank my sister Debra too… who did in fact ask “what the fuck are ye doing?” on multiple occasions during my life. She still asks it often.
Genuine thank yous (like proper genuine ones) go to Barry O’Hanlon, Hannah Healy and Margaret Lyons who read a very early draft of this book and gave me priceless pointers on where it needed improvement. Your opinions really helped shape the arc of this novel, moreso than any other you have read for me — and I’m indebted to you for that.
Thanks also to the wonderful Rubina Gauri Gomes who was the first person to read the finalised last draft of The Suicide Pact. I knew this was a good book when she texted me a Chris Pratt GIF with his mouth wide open in shock.
Shout outs also go to Susan Hampson and Livia Sbrabaro who gave me huge encouragement and fantastic feedback having read a pre-edited version.
And finally, I owe a huge thanks to the fantastic Maureen Vincent-Northam who edited this book thoroughly with her razor-sharp eye.
Contents
Praise for David B. Lyons
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Did you…
It is estimat
Read more from David B. Lyons
Acknowledgements
The Suicide Pact (The Tick-Tock Trilogy Book 3) Page 26