by D. E. White
* * *
‘Make me one now!’ Ellen threw the bag of cotton at Ava. ‘Please. It can be a special one.’
‘You’ve already got loads of friendship bracelets.’ Ava laughed at her best friend’s intense expression.
‘This one would be the most special because you will have made it. All these’ – she indicated her skinny wrists, which were loaded with cheap bracelets – leather, metal and fabric – ‘were bought from the market. Please, Ava. Look, purple, blue and gold, like the football shirts Coach Thomas is totally going to let us have!’
‘Okay, I’ll do it. But he is not going to let us play in the match next weekend.’
‘He is!’ Ellen was triumphant. ‘Penny said she’d have a word after school on Wednesday if he was in a good mood, and then he phoned my mum last night to say we’re playing. He’s picked Huw as Captain too, so that’s another hot boy to look at.’
‘Bloody hell. And Coach Thomas is not a “hot boy”, he’s all grown-up. You haven’t got a chance there.’ Ava deftly twisted the cotton, entwining the colours quickly, and knotting the ends. She was absorbed in her task, head bent, long dark hair hiding her face. ‘I wonder how Pen managed that. She should be here soon. She said her uncle had a few jobs for her, but then she’d be down.’
‘Great.’ But Ellen’s voice was slightly dismissive.
Ava looked up sharply. ‘What?’
‘Oh, nothing. Does she always have to come with us? I love Pen, you know I do, but she can be so happy about everything, like all the time. I mean, is she ever in a bad mood?’
‘Not everyone’s a grumpy cow like you. I thought you liked her?’
‘I told you, I do, it’s just that she always seems to be tagging along.’
Ava peered at her friend. ‘Or could it be that you’re pissed she got off with Jesse last week? We all just had too much to drink. He prefers you.’
‘No! Of course not…’
Ava shrugged. ‘Whatever.’
‘Look, Leo’s coming up the hill with Jesse and Rhodri,’ Ellen said suddenly.
‘I’m nearly done. Come on, let’s go!’
‘Don’t you want to see them? Leo fancies you, and okay you’re right, Jesse is hot too.’ Ellen smiled, stretching her legs out in the warm grass. ‘Pleeeease.’
Both girls’ feet were bare, and for a moment they leant back in the sunlight, admiring twenty carefully painted pink nails wriggling among the greenery. The blue sky overhead stretched across the hills into infinity, and the air was sweet with the scents of summer.
‘Only for a minute,’ Ava relented, her stomach churning as the boys saw them and waved. Of course, Ellen had no idea what Ava had been up to last night, or who with…
* * *
Ava touched the faded friendship bracelet, just her fingertips brushing the threads. Tears blurred her vision, and although her brain seemed to rattle when she swung her legs over, the fear was breaking through. Had she picked it up somewhere last night? Had someone given it to her?
She stumbled towards the bathroom, crashing clumsily into the door, as though she was still drunk. Of course she did occasionally get hammered, but not often. And she never drank whilst she was on a case. Collapsing onto the toilet, head in hands, she tried to force her brain to respond, searching frantically for any memories. The dinner, the pub, and the door closing behind her as people called their goodbyes. The air outside had been icy enough to make her gasp. Had she been holding on to someone’s arm?
The nausea passed, but realising her left leg was stinging, itching even, Ava leant down, puzzled by the long livid scratch. What the fuck had she been doing last night?
Now Mrs Birtley was rapping smartly on the door. ‘Ava? Are you all right? There is a man here to see you. I’ve asked him to wait downstairs.’
‘What? To see me?’ The pink bathroom was spinning slowly again, a vanilla-scented nightmare that prodded at Ava’s unsettled stomach.
‘Ava!’
She gathered herself, flushed the toilet and hung on to the sink for dear life. ‘I’m fine, Mrs Birtley. Who… who did you say was here to see me?’
Ava could hear the note of malicious excitement in the older woman’s voice. ‘He’s a Mr Jennington, and he says he’s the private investigator Jackie and Peter hired. Apparently you agreed to speak with him yesterday. He’s a lovely man, and we’ve already had a chat, so no hurry for you to get yourself down, if you’ve been having a lie-in.’
Fuck, the Smiths and their investigations – she’d totally forgotten. But had she really said today? ‘I’ll be right down… Tell him… I just need to get dressed, please Mrs Birtley.’
As soon as the footsteps tapped away, Ava heaved into the pink toilet, throat burning with bile, coughing and groaning.
Twenty minutes later she was showered and dressed, pale but controlled, and ready to face Mr Jennington. She hadn’t even formulated a proper plan, beyond trying to persuade Ellen’s parents that their daughter really had run away. Was this a sign she could do more? Short of telling the truth, which after all these years she had no right to do, it was hard to see what else could happen. But her mind was still foggy, and her steps were too careful. What had happened last night?
He was younger than she expected, and immaculately dressed in yellow cords and a bottle green jumper. A tweed jacket hung over one of the chairs and a leather satchel was open on the wooden floor. PIs were a bit of a wildcard. She’d worked with good ones, and shit ones. There were a lot of ex-cons and a lot of ex-cops. It didn’t always make for a great mix on a case. Fingers crossed Ellen’s parents hadn’t hired a lemon. Or maybe fingers crossed they had?
‘Miss Cole, thank you for agreeing to meet me.’ He rose from his chair, to shake hands. ‘I’m Alex Jennington. I understand you’re with the LAPD?’
His face was thin and pale, grey eyes small, like hard pebbles. Although he smiled, there was no warmth in his tone or expression. He had a slightly upper-class English accent. Shiny shoes, too.
Ava sighed. ‘No problem. I’m not sure if I actually fixed a time, but as you’re here… Like I said to Ellen’s parents, I’m not sure how I can help. Everything I know was said at the time. Sorry, I was meeting up with old friends last night, and we had a few too many. I feel like death this morning.’ She returned his smile with a cold one of her own.
‘Well… oh, thank you, Mrs Birtley.’ This, as the landlady carefully laid a flowered plastic tray loaded with cups, teapot and a plate of biscuits onto the small table.
Ava was desperate for a coffee, and the smell of the biscuits and tea made her want to gag again. She forced the sickness down and hastily poured herself a glass of water from the pitcher on the sideboard. ‘You were saying, Mr Jennington?’ Out the corner of her eye, she could see Mrs Birtley lurking just outside the door, fussing around with a curtain drape.
‘Call me Alex, please. If we could just run through a few questions, Detective… I assume you have no objections to me recording our conversation?’
She shook her head, coolly meeting his gaze over her water glass. ‘“Ava” is fine.’
‘Good. I apologise in advance if any of my questions upset you.’ He flicked a button and recorded the date and time.
‘It’s not my favourite subject, but I would be very happy if Mr and Mrs Smith were able to find closure on Ellen’s disappearance. Therefore, I am happy to help you with your enquiries.’ The brain fog was still there, dulling her intelligence, making her movements clumsy and uncoordinated. When she sat down, she nearly missed the chair. Something about being back in Aberdyth was interfering with her usually sharp brain. That, and the fact she was still half-pissed.
Alex looked hard at her, but didn’t comment on her pathetic state. ‘Good. Now in the weeks preceding Ellen’s disappearance, did she seem to have any worries? Any major arguments with parents, or trouble at school that she might have confided in you, but not shared with her parents?’ He was taking notes as well, pen poised to record her answer.
‘None. Well, nothing that would lead to her running away.’ Ava thought quickly, trying to remember what she had said all those years ago. Deny everything, tell them nothing, Huw had ordered. In their terror and grief, the girls had obeyed him, and she assumed the boys had come to their own arrangement too. ‘We had a strong friendship group, with the usual occasional boyfriends.’
‘Any special activities that you all shared out of school – clubs and sports?’
‘Ellen and I loved sport, and the three of us – Penny was the only other girl living up this way at the time – spent most of our time together.’ She made her eye contact steady, inviting confidences. Her hands were laced firmly around the water glass, in an effort to remain casual and keep her sweaty palms from shaking. But surely any odd behaviour could be explained away by the subject of the interview? She would be slightly tense at having to relive painful memories anyway. She just needed to make sure Alex Jennington had no idea how painful they were.
‘Boyfriends? I know Ellen was seeing Jesse, wasn’t she? Anyone else you were aware of? Perhaps she had her eye on someone she hadn’t mentioned to her parents, but she might have told you about?’
‘I really can’t remember who was seeing who, but I do know Leo and I were an item. You’re right, Jesse was very keen on Ellen, and maybe Paul and Penny, or sometimes Ellen and Rhodri if she’d had a row with Jesse… It was all fairly amicable, and never anything serious. Hell, we were young, experimenting with first kisses and all that. It was pretty innocent stuff.’ She stared him down. After seeing Jackie and Peter, she had panicked all the way back to the Birtleys’ that the PI would discover the truth. She dragged her thoughts together. ‘Even when we left the village school and took the bus to Cadrington for secondary school, we retained our strong friendships. It was always “the Aberdyth kids” all lumped together. We liked it that way.’
‘When Ellen vanished, would you say she and Jesse were still a couple?’
‘Yes… I mean, it wasn’t serious or anything. We were fifteen, you know what teenagers are like! It was Ellen’s sixteenth the week before, actually.’ Ava watched his cool expression, listened to the smooth, emotionless voice and allowed herself to wonder what he had been like at fifteen. She often played this game during interviews. It gave her an insight into the perp’s mind without them knowing. But in this particular interview, it was she who was on the wrong side of the law. The nausea rose again and she reached for her water.
‘Had she argued with anyone of your group in particular?’
‘No. Not really. I mean we all argued occasionally. She had a right row with Huw at football, because she thought he had her playing the wrong position. He was team captain most of the time. And another with me because I forgot our kit. Nothing serious.’
The interview continued. He was methodical, and occasionally asked her to repeat herself, or asked the same question in a slightly different way. She kept ahead of him at every stage, checking her voice, her posture, her facial expression. This needed to be real, despite her current state. He was very interested in the relationship between Ellen and Jesse. Perhaps this way would be better, shifting blame onto someone who could never defend themselves. But someone who had left a girlfriend and a child. The part of her that shrank from the truth applauded this idea.
‘And you last saw her after school that Friday evening?’
Ava made herself answer that one promptly and as convincingly as she could. ‘Yes. She said she might come out later, but had stuff to do, so she might just see me tomorrow. Ellen gave me the letter, and I never saw her again.’
‘You were the last person of your group to see her?’
‘I believe so, yes. The others saw her at school, but then we usually split up for various sports clubs. Often we would meet up later in the evening, but it wasn’t unusual for one or more of us to be missing. I know Jackie said previously that Ellen seemed fine, did her music practice, and spent an hour on the computer before she went to bed.’
‘Finally, Ava, what do you think happened to Ellen? I think we have agreed that she would surely have made contact if she was still alive. It would be very unusual for a runaway like Ellen, with a stable background and no apparent reason for going, not to get back in touch, or even return home after all this time. Her note telling her parents she was bored and off to have a proper life, simply isn’t enough. It makes one wonder what she was covering up…’ His voice trailed off with the faintest hint of a question, and he closed his notebook, but kept the recorder running.
For years she had thought of what she would have liked to say, what she felt would give Jackie and Peter peace and closure. ‘Of course, it has always been at the back of my mind. I was surprised, and hurt that she never contacted me, never confided in me. And I can’t tell you the number of times I wished I had looked inside the damn letter, instead of stuffing it in my school bag, and forgetting about it until the next day…’
She could see the scrawled words as they had been when she wrote them, with Leo and Huw arguing about the content of the letter, and Paul adding that they should send a text from her phone to her mum, instead of writing. He was overruled, and Ava, with shaking hands helping to mask her own handwriting and focus on Ellen’s, continued to form the sentences.
Mum and Dad,
It is really hard to do this, because I love you both so much, but I need to get away. I feel like there is so much I need to do and see, and I need to be away from Aberdyth. It’s closing in on me. I know you don’t even want me to go to uni because it’s too much of an adventure, which is why I’m going like this.
Love you forever,
E xx
‘You were just a child, and if there was nothing to suggest urgency when Ellen gave it to you, it is perfectly reasonable.’
‘We often gave each other silly notes, and we always just put the initial of the sender on the back, and the recipient on front.’ Ellen had had very distinctive writing, and Ava had always been able to copy her extravagant, looped letters easily enough.
‘Your thoughts?’ The man prodded softly.
She met his gaze, wide-eyed and calm. ‘As we got older, we occasionally hitchhiked into Cardiff, or even just to Cadrington if the bus wasn’t running. It seems a ridiculous thing to do now – three girls alone on the roads at night. We would go to a couple of clubs where the doorman didn’t look too closely at IDs, and go dancing. Penny and I would get tired, but Ellen could dance all night. So, I have two theories. Firstly, I think Ellen may have met someone on one of those nights out. Someone she didn’t mention for whatever reason, to either Penny or me. Perhaps he was older, or… I don’t know. More than any of us, she was impatient to grow up, impatient for new experiences and excitement. She may have run away with, or to someone. Secondly, she might have had a bit of a row with Jesse, and planned to scare him by running away for a bit. Their relationship was very on and off. She was a drama queen and would have loved to cause a bit of a stir. Ellen may have tried hitchhiking on her own and run into trouble.’
Alex was shaking his head slowly. ‘The police never found anyone linked to Ellen from the clubs, did they?’
‘No, as I said before I went through everything with the police at the time. Every detail I could remember, I shared with them. Jesse was grilled about his relationship with her, but he didn’t know any more than I did. Obviously there was no body, and no leads. I know Jackie and Peter think that the police didn’t bother to look for Ellen, because she was just another runaway, but from what I remember, and obviously what I know now, I think they were very thorough. Eventually they had to close the case, simply because there was nothing to go on.’
‘Quite. I agree, this certainly isn’t a case of police incompetence, but you and I know that Ellen’s case is unusual, for the reasons we have mentioned previously. Ava, do you think it’s possible that Jesse could have killed Ellen? I appreciate this is difficult because you are so involved in this.’ Alex wasn’t writing now, he was drawi
ng doodles – neat little gridded boxes over and over again.
He would have been a complete idiot not to try this line, especially after all the crumbs she had tossed during their conversation, and the Smiths’ insistence that Jesse had been going to tell them something important about Ellen.
She pretended to think about this, but something just wouldn’t let her go down that path. ‘No. Jesse wouldn’t have killed her. I agree his death may well have been suicide, and he certainly indicated to the Smiths that he knew something. But I just can’t see it.’
‘Even if he found out what she had planned, and intercepted her on her way out of Aberdyth?’
‘Possible, but unlikely. Jesse was with us in the woods, drinking vodka and smoking until past midnight. Yes, all this was relayed to the police as well. Ellen’s parents know none of us, including Ellen, were angels. We were normal teenagers. I can’t see why, if Jesse did kill Ellen, he would suddenly feel the need to confess. Or if he did kill her, then where is the body?’
‘Yes. And of course, if she was killed in a lovers’ tiff in her home village, or surrounding countryside, then surely we might have a body by now? You know how many bodies are discovered by walkers and their dogs, or farmers ploughing fields…’ He looked slightly dubious at this. ‘Although I admit the terrain is pretty wild around here, and the odds would probably be against this.’
‘Exactly.’ Ava’s mouth felt stiff, her limbs wooden. She moistened her lips and forced herself to smile at him, but Ellen’s face was everywhere, as though the photographs hung around the room were not of animals and flowers, but of her best friend.
‘Well, I think that’s it. Thank you for your time. I have obviously made extensive enquiries and done a lot of research since the Smiths asked me to take on the case, so this really is just confirming my theories, and seeing if anything new comes up.’