by Jackie Walsh
‘Andriu,’ I say, faking a smile. I don’t quite know how to play this. This was not part of my plan.
‘Tara doesn’t want to see you, Faye,’ he says.
I look around at my empty surroundings. What will I do? ‘I just want to wish her well for the wedding, I won’t be long.’
‘She knows what you did.’
‘What?’
‘She knows you killed Avril Ryan.’
My body shudders. My biggest fear is being realised. Andriu has convinced Tara that it was me. I need to get to her somehow. She needs to know the truth.
‘Let me go up to her,’ I say.
Andriu steps closer to me. Then, out of nowhere, he pushes me against the wall. ‘Go home, Faye, or back to the asylum you came from.’
I’ve never felt this threatened before. Every part of me is trembling, standing here staring down at a murderer.
‘No, I need to talk to her.’ I step away from the wall. My body is trembling but I have to be strong. I have to get to Tara.
‘It’s over, Andriu. I know it was you. You had our phones the night of Electric Picnic, the night Avril Ryan sent me a message telling me I was in trouble. You read the message. You deleted the message. But not before arranging to meet her. You killed her. She was warning us about you.’
Andriu says nothing. Grabbing me, he puts his hand on my neck, pushing me further down the hallway behind the stairwell. I struggle under the pressure, trying to keep my feet on the ground. No one can see us here. I can barely breathe in his grip. I’m panting, dragging in air. My throat gurgles. I can’t speak.
‘No one is going to believe you, Faye, you’re fucking mad. Certified. Everything points at you. Even Tara believes me.’ His words burn like flames of fire. His eyes, blazing with hate. Andriu is framing me and Tara is backing him up. I want to say that Tara will believe me when I tell her how he contrived to turn me against her. But the words are stuck in my throat, choking me.
The front door opens and I can hear someone walking into the building. Andriu lets go of his grip on me and I drag as much air into my lungs as possible. One more minute and I would have collapsed. Andriu would have left me there. Maybe I’d have died. Maybe I’d have lived… I wanted to live.
I realise I’m in a lot of danger here. But so is Tara. What if he hurts her and disappears again? My fingerprints are on the elevator. The buzzer. I broke out of the clinic. I’ll be blamed. Rubbing my neck, I step away.
‘Go away, Faye. Leave us. There’s a great big river out there if you’re looking to escape.’
Bastard. I drop my head as if defeated and I cry. ‘I’m sorry Andriu… I just thought we could get back together. I won’t say anything. I know no one is going to believe me.’ I sound as pathetic as he wants me to. Then I walk towards the exit like I’m giving up but my head is in overdrive planning what to do next. I push open the door and walk outside.
The detective hasn’t returned my call, so I try her number again and this time I leave an urgent message. I tell her to get over to Tara Moore’s apartment quickly, that she’s in danger. At this stage, I don’t care what trouble I get into; I just want to make sure Tara is safe.
After hiding around the corner for a few minutes, I go back to see Andriu has left the hallway. He didn’t leave the building, so he’s gone back up to Tara. I’ve never seen him like this. Crazy with anger. I’m scared now. Scared for Tara. What will I do?
I need to get to her to warn her but how? I could knock on her neighbour’s door and tell them she’s in trouble – maybe they’ll have her fiancé’s number or a key. Time is ticking. I look to my right to the bright lights of Reilly’s Bar in the hope that Lucas or someone who knows her might be in there.
Chapter Sixty-Three
Tara
I walk around the apartment with tears flowing down my face. My teeth are gnashing with fear. Faye has come to my apartment just like Andriu warned me she might. I’m finding it hard to believe Faye would hurt me, though. She might just have wanted to confront me. To tell me how I destroyed her life just like she did that night on the phone when she was drunk and she blurted out her hate for me.
Of course if Andriu is right and she did kill Avril Ryan, accidentally or not, it means she is capable of some level of violence which, accompanied by rage, could result in disaster. I could have been in real danger if I was here on my own. I’m so lucky Andriu called tonight.
I hope he’s talking her down. Trying to get her to leave me alone. He has been gone a long time. Opening the door of the balcony, I see that the night sky twinkles like a scene from a Disney movie. It feels more like a Stephen King movie down here.
I look over the side of the balcony to see if I can spot Andriu and Faye out on the street. There’s no sign of them. The street is empty. A stray black cat crosses the road, bringing me luck, I hope. Its tail sways from side to side as if conducting its body. I consider how free that cat is. How lovely it must be to be the conductor of your own symphony, your own life. I take a deep breath in an attempt to calm myself. That will be me soon, I hope, when I get to Australia.
I take one last look down the street but I can’t see either of them. They must be in the lobby. Maybe Andriu has brought Faye inside to calm her down. Maybe he called her a taxi and is waiting with her for it to arrive. But what is she doing here in the first place if she’s supposed to be in hospital? Did she just leave? Is she really that unhinged?
My phone rings. I rush to answer it, hoping it’s Lucas but it’s not. It’s the detective. What the hell does she want? Maybe they know about Faye. Maybe they’re ringing to warn me too. For a split second I consider not answering it because I don’t want to hear any more bad news but then my finger swipes the screen. I have to know what’s going on.
‘Hello.’
‘Tara, this is Detective Lee. I’m calling because I received a message saying you were in danger. Are you okay?’
‘Yes.’ I struggle to sound confident. What will I do? Will I tell her what’s going on? That I think Faye could be the person they’re looking for and she’s downstairs now trying to get to me? I feel so bad, hanging her like this, especially when Faye is right – this is all my fault. If I hadn’t asked for her help for my mam, none of this would have happened. But if she has lost control… I am paralysed with indecision, not knowing the right thing to do. But then it hits me – how did Lee know I might be in danger?
‘Who called to say that I was in trouble?’
‘Faye Connolly.’
‘What?’
‘Yes, she left a message on my voicemail. She seemed pretty anxious. I know she’s not well but I have to follow through.’
‘She’s downstairs trying to come up to me,’ I say, realising none of this makes sense. If Faye is dangerous she wouldn’t be reporting herself, would she?
‘Tara, I’m going to send someone over. Keep the door closed. Stay calm, Tara.’
Jesus, my head wants to burst. I can’t believe what’s unfolding. My breath is catching but I manage to utter the words ‘I’m okay here, Andriu is with me.’
‘Andriu?’
‘Andriu Fitzpatrick.’
‘Oh we’ve been trying to contact him, he’s there now?’
‘Yes, he’s downstairs talking to Faye.’
‘Okay, Tara, there is someone on their way over now.’
With a trembling hand, I take the phone from my ear. I’m confused by what Lee said. Andriu told me he had talked to the detective yesterday – or the day before, I’m not sure. But why did Lee say they’ve been trying to contact him? Does she need to see him again or has she not spoken to him at all yet? My head is spinning; it’s impossible to make sense of what’s going on. I decide to ring Lucas and ask him to come home as quickly as he can.
A knock on the door makes me jump.
‘It’s only me.’
I rush to the door to let Andriu back inside before turning my attention back to the phone in my hand. I notice I missed a WhatsApp message that
Sean sent earlier. A screenshot of the man who Avril Ryan had charges out against. Sean’s friend in the courts must have sent it to him. I click on it while asking Andriu if Faye has left and telling him the cops are on their way.
‘She won’t be back tonight, Tara,’ he says. ‘Who are you calling?’
‘Lucas… I—’ The face on the screen causes me to freeze. Andriu is looking over my shoulder at an image of himself on my phone.
Chapter Sixty-Four
Faye
‘Is there a Lucas Jones here?’ I call out over the music at the small crowd in Reilly’s Bar. But no one seems to know or else they’re just ignoring me. I notice a blond man with his back to me at the far side of the bar so I rush over and step in front of him to see his face. It’s not him though. The barman reads my anxiety. He comes out from behind the bar and asks me what’s up.
‘I’m looking for Lucas Jones. I need to find him. He might be in here.’ My head darts from table to table, searching for the tall, blond Australian man. But I can’t see him.
‘Do you know Tara? She was in here last week? Tara is in trouble and I need to find her fiancé.’
‘Sorry but you’re going to have to leave, you can’t come in here shouting all over the place.’
‘But Tara’s in danger.’
‘Of course she is,’ he says, putting his hand on my shoulder. I shrug it off.
‘Don’t fucking touch me,’ I say. ‘Listen, there’s a woman in trouble in the apartment block beside you. She could get killed. I have to get in there.’
‘Ring the police then,’ the barman says, standing in front of me, making sure I don’t go any further. Everyone is looking at me now. They all think I’m mad. I look mad standing here in a light tracksuit top with no jacket in the freezing cold, shouting at customers. My head is a mess, my eyes red from crying. My face is probably flushed due to the lack of oxygen getting to it when Andriu was crushing my neck. These people probably think I’m high on drugs. That’s what it looks like.
I turn to leave. The barman is walking behind me as I make my way to the door.
‘I’m not a junkie, Tara is in trouble, we were here last Friday night. Do you not remember me?’ The young man is ignoring me. He might not even be the same guy who was working on Friday because they all look the same to me. Even the women. In my head they’re all blended into the one person. The person in black who serves alcohol.
‘I didn’t look like this. I was in disguise,’ I say, realising the more I speak, the madder I sound. I walk through the door out onto the street.
The barman shouts after me: ‘And don’t come back.’
I look up at the apartment block and think, what can I do now? My stomach is swirling and I feel like throwing up. I’ll have to knock up one of the neighbours but first I have to get into the building. My head is aching from worry when I notice a police car coming around the corner. Is it here for me? Shit. Will they believe me? The clinic must have discovered my escape. But how would they know I was here? Unless there’s a find-my-phone app on Aoife’s mobile. Whatever it is, I don’t care anymore. My mouth tastes like acid. I’m dragging air into my lungs with no rhythm whatsoever. Just dragging and holding and breathing out and in and… I have never been this scared but I have to do this.
I jump out onto the street in front of the police car, waving my hands to force it to stop. The car pulls up an inch from my body.
‘What the hell?’ the policeman says, opening the door and jumping out.
I rush over and beg him to help me. ‘My friend is in danger. She lives up there.’ And then, as I glance up to where I’m pointing, I see two bodies on a balcony. The man is pushing up against the woman, forcing her to the edge. It’s them. It’s Tara. I recognise her hair, the bob hanging over the glass balcony wall. He’s squeezing her neck, pushing her backwards over the balcony.
‘There, there,’ I shout. ‘Look!’ I’m pointing up to where Tara is fighting for her life.
The second policeman is out of the car now and both of them race towards the building. They push on every button and immediately the door is released. I run after them.
‘It’s the fourth floor, number 431,’ I tell them, then return to where I can see the balcony.
‘Tara,’ I scream ‘Tara!’ I want her to hear my voice. I want her to know help is coming. But she’s slipping, I can see it. ‘Fight, Tara, fight.’ A few people have gathered now; they must have seen the police car from the pub window. What’s keeping those policemen getting to her? ‘Tara!’
Then I see the dark shape of the two policemen rushing onto the balcony. Tara is grabbed by one of the men while the other one struggles with Andriu before pulling him to the floor. They have him. They have her. I collapse to the ground with relief and put my head into my hands. Someone sits down beside me and puts their arm around me. The stench of body odour assaults my senses. But I welcome it; someone is holding on to me. I cling to the stranger’s arm, tears soaking the sleeve of their hairy jacket. My body is shaking. Out of somewhere a coat is put over me. I can’t look up anymore. It’s over. There is nothing left in me to give.
The barman has joined the commotion, bending down to apologise to me for not taking me seriously, but I shake my tortured head and smile at him. It’s not his fault. He didn’t know, how could he know? He can only judge from his experience and to him I look like one of the druggies that he has to throw out of his bar on a regular basis.
‘It’s okay,’ I manage to mutter.
‘Can I get you something? A brandy maybe,’ he says. I think about the strong alcohol hit at the back of my throat, dissolving into a bitter fruit flavour in my mouth. Then the burning heat travelling through my veins, doping every cell in my body. It would be easy, very easy. No one would blame me after what I’ve just been through. But I would.
‘No thanks, I don’t drink.’
Chapter Sixty-Five
The ground is the first thing I feel. The cold, damp stone freezing my bottom as I sit here and wait. I don’t know what I’m waiting for. What to expect now. But I don’t care. Tara is safe.
A car pulls up behind the crowd that has gathered, and I look up, hoping it’s my dad. It’s not. It’s Detective Siobhan Lee. She steps out of the vehicle like John Wayne getting off a horse. Lee stands with her hands tucked into the pockets of her jacket, surveying the crowd and looking up at the balcony. I’m really not up to answering her questions now. But I know I have to. She needs to know this has nothing to do with Tara. It was Andriu who received the message the night of Electric Picnic when he had our phones because of our bid to create the perfect alibi. Andriu who deleted the message from Avril telling us we were in danger, then texted Avril back and arranged to meet her at Huntley Lodge. It was Andriu who sent me the message from Avril Ryan’s phone the day he killed her. ‘I can destroy you.’ He was trying to freak me out, setting in motion his plan for a cover-up.
When I think of Avril Ryan arriving at Huntley Lodge expecting to meet me and Tara, a shiver travels deep through my body. The poor woman must have got the fright of her life when Andriu opened the door. The man had robbed her of everything she had, including her confidence, then disappeared into thin air when she found the courage to take him to court. Avril would not have stood a chance against him. Andriu would have been well prepared, knowing that if Avril Ryan did ever get to speak to us, his true character would be revealed. His depraved past, out in the open.
I thought it was the end of my life when he left. How wrong I was. Avril Ryan tried to save me from him and it turns out she did. Her death forced him to abandon his plans to manipulate me, to control my money and my life. He had to run away in case the body was discovered. But he couldn’t just leave us like that. He had to destroy my friendship with Tara. He wanted us to be enemies so he could easily manipulate an alternative reality of what happened the day Avril Ryan was killed.
Andriu knew that if he let me think it was Tara he had slept with he would drive a wedge between us. End ou
r friendship. If Avril’s body was discovered, his plan to frame Tara would be easier if she and I were not in touch and hated one another. But then, when the body was eventually discovered and he found out that I wasn’t the respectable Dr Faye Connolly he was expecting to find, he switched plans. I became his perfect candidate – unhinged, alcoholic Faye, driven mad with guilt about what I had done. A credible murderer. Andriu decided to frame me for Avril Ryan’s murder and it almost worked. But there’s one thing he didn’t allow for. Tara and I had been friends since we were kids. She knew me.
* * *
Tara is hugging me, the warmth of her body a welcome, familiar comfort. We stand, locked in our embrace, afraid to let go of one another. I see my father a few feet away. His tall strong frame stands like a warrior against the dark night. Mam is with him. Crying, of course. Crying like me. I let go of Tara and rush over to them. They both embrace me, wrapping me up between them, making me feel safe.
In the distance I see a man running towards us. It’s Lucas. He rushes over to Tara and holds her tightly.
‘I’ll be back in a minute,’ I say, unlocking myself from the comfort of my parents and walking over to Tara and Lucas. Tara can barely speak she’s crying so heavily in his arms. I place my hand on her back and offer my other hand to Lucas.
‘Hi, I’m Faye, Tara’s best friend. I’m pleased to meet you.’
Lucas smiles at me. God, he really is handsome. Lucky bitch.
Chapter Sixty-Six
Tara
I am now Mrs Jones. Wife of Lucas Jones. I’m about to walk onto the dance floor for the first dance of the evening. The wedding was as perfect as I could have hoped for. The church was wonderful. When I pulled up outside, I could see the bridesmaids waiting in the foyer and I began to shake. My father noticed.
‘Everything is going to be great,’ he said, urging me to relax. ‘Remember, Tara, your mam is by your side.’