Never Ever Tell

by Kirsty Ferguson

  She ended up driving back home; there was no one there anyway. Ryan kept texting her, variations of the same message and so many that she wanted to throw her phone in the wardrobe. She had lost just about every friend she had – which was a small circle to begin with – and she didn’t see her regulars from work because she hadn’t gone back yet. She missed her independence, not to mention making money. She just couldn’t go back; Billy thought it would be good for her, that it was time, but who was he to tell her what to do? Suddenly she was irrationally angry at Billy again. But what else was new?

  Her world had started dying the day Wren took his last breath, the color and happiness leaching from everything around her. She knew she was bitter, but she couldn’t help it. Justin would walk with a limp forever? Well, Wren was dead. So who got the better deal here? She didn’t want these boys dead; she wanted her son alive.

  Later that night, after a tense dinner which Vanessa barely touched, she went into the lounge and gave Ty a kiss goodbye.

  She returned to the kitchen. ‘Where are you going?’ asked Billy in surprise. ‘It’s past seven.’

  ‘Thanks, I can tell the time.’ Sarcasm was not a good look on her, but it seemed like one thing she couldn’t avoid these days.

  His face hardened. ‘Do what you want.’ He stood up and began to scrape the leftovers into the bin, all but throwing the plates into the sink. His body softened. ‘Ness?’ he said quietly as she picked up her bag. She stopped. ‘Do you want company?’ His offer of support.

  She could see he was trying, today at least, but she wanted – no, needed – her space. ‘Billy… I don’t want to hurt you, but you’ve got to let me go. I need to be alone. One day I’ll take you with me again, but today’s not that day.’

  His face sagged with her rejection. She desperately wanted to tell him that she still wanted to be married to him, but the words got stuck somewhere between her mind and her lips. Instead of saying all the things she wanted to say, she just left.

  She revved the car out as she was reversing and ran over the curb on her way out. This time she knew where she was headed.

  She rang the doorbell and the front light flicked on.

  ‘Vanessa?’

  ‘Hey, Mark, can I come in?’

  ‘Sure.’ She followed him inside his new place. It was clean and tidy – two things he’d never been when they were married. Actually, it looked nice.

  ‘I like your place.’

  ‘Thanks.’ He looked at her, really looked at her. ‘You OK? You look like shit.’

  She burst out laughing before covering her mouth like she’d committed a sin. ‘You’re the first one to tell me that.’

  He smiled. ‘Want a drink? Of tea, of course.’ She knew he didn’t drink anymore. It also showed in his body, which was beginning to lose its beer gut. He put the kettle on. ‘So, what’s up?’

  ‘I don’t have anywhere else to go.’ She burst into tears. His arms were around her in seconds, her head on his shoulder, closer than they had been when they were together.

  ‘It’s all right. Let it all out.’ He patted her on the back while she cried. Finally, she pulled back and he handed her a tissue.

  ‘Sorry. I just… I thought I’d found a safe place with Olivia’s dad Ryan, but it turns out that he blames Wren for his daughter’s suicide.’ She sighed. ‘Can you believe that? Now he’s harassing me to forgive him. Well, fuck him.’

  Mark let her talk. He went into the kitchen and brought back a cup of tea, which he sat on the dining-room table. There was a drawing that Charlotte had done, just a scribble of color, but it made Vanessa smile. ‘Nice drawing.’

  ‘Actually, that’s me,’ he said proudly. ‘Ty’s is already on the fridge. He drew him and Wren. Nearly lost my shit at that, it was brutal.’ He paused. ‘Ness?’

  ‘Mmm?’

  ‘You were right to leave me. I haven’t admitted it to myself before but you were. I hated you for a long time, but you were just doing what was best for our boys and I should have understood that. I don’t know how you’re even friends with me.’

  ‘Well, we’re not at the friends stage just yet, but we are parents to a beautiful little boy. Speaking of, I’d better get home. Thanks for the tea, and the talk.’

  When she got home the door to the spare room was already closed, so she crept down to Ty’s room with the intention of kissing his little face. He was still awake, staring at the ceiling.

  ‘Honey, what are you doing awake?’

  ‘I just wanted to make sure that you were coming back to me.’

  It broke her heart. She took hold of his hand. ‘Baby, I will always come back to you.’ He smiled and she kissed his cheek, then left the room.

  She whispered, ‘I love you.’

  ‘I love you’ covered a multitude of sins. I love you because you’re mine. I love you because you’re beautiful. I love you because you’re my son. The list was endless. I love you, I’m sorry we fought. I love you – something she’d never say to Wren again.

  When she was heading to her bedroom, it occurred to Vanessa that if Wren didn’t know Olivia was suicidal, then her close friend might. She had come round to Vanessa’s house with Olivia one day. Lisa something. Lisa Peterson. A new plan falling into place, she drifted off to sleep.

  28

  Vanessa had sworn that she would never go to Wren’s school. This was the place where Wren had hung out with his girlfriend, his best friends, took classes and played soccer. There were just too many memories.

  She pulled into the parking lot and headed to the main building. She went up to the receptionist’s desk and waited.

  ‘What can I do for you?’ asked the ancient lady behind the counter.

  ‘Hi, I’m wondering if you wouldn’t mind paging a student for me. Her name is Lisa Peterson.’

  ‘And you are?’

  ‘My name is Vanessa Wright, and I need to speak with her. It’s very important.’

  ‘Are you a family member?’

  ‘No, but, as I said, it’s important.’

  ‘I can’t just pull a student out of class because you want to chat.’

  Vanessa’s eyes welled with tears. ‘My son recently died in a car accident. Two weeks beforehand, his girlfriend committed suicide. I think the two are related, and I think that Lisa might be able to shed some light on why two seventeen-year-old kids are dead. That good enough for you?’

  She was breathing heavily by the time she’d finished, gripping the edge of the counter tightly.

  The lady pressed a button and called for Lisa Peterson to come to reception.

  ‘Thank you,’ Vanessa whispered as she went to sit down on one of the couches pushed up against the wall.

  She saw Lisa coming down the stairs. ‘Mrs Wright?’

  ‘Hi, Lisa, how are you?’

  ‘Fine,’ she said, looking confused.

  ‘Can you sit for a moment? This won’t take long.’

  She sat next to Vanessa, smoothing down her dress.

  Vanessa hadn’t really thought much about what she was going to say, so she just winged it. ‘I know you haven’t seen me in a while or know me that well but I’m hoping you can help me and Olivia’s dad. Did Olivia ever tell you that she had thoughts about harming herself?’

  ‘No. Never. I would have told somebody.’

  ‘Of course you would have. So do you know why she was acting strangely in the weeks leading up to her death? Not going to school, not wanting to see friends?’

  ‘I don’t know about any of that, all I know is that she stopped returning my calls and texts after the party.’

  Vanessa tried to think of which party she meant. There were so many, so she asked.

  ‘The end-of-year soccer bash?’

  I didn’t go, I was grounded. I heard she spent the whole night with the three boys, but that’s not unusual. I’m not much help, am I? Mrs Wright? Are you OK?’ Vanessa could feel the blood draining from her face.

  ‘Uh… I’m fine, thanks fo
r your help. I have to go now.’ Vanessa staggered out the front doors and over to her car. Once inside the car, she needed to take a few deep breaths to calm herself down. She held down the horn for a few seconds while she screamed.

  She knew what happened.

  Olivia went to a party, disappeared with the three boys, didn’t speak to anyone again, then two weeks later, she committed suicide. It was so obvious now. Why hadn’t she seen it before?

  Justin and Wade had raped her. It was the only scenario that made any sense.

  It all came rushing back to her. Seeing Wren that Sunday morning with a black eye, a split lip and holding his ribs as he walked funny. He said he’d been mucking about with the boys, that it was just normal boy stuff. But Wren had actively avoided Justin afterwards and to her knowledge, he never spoke to Olivia about the party, about what happened. It all made sense now. Wren had taken a beating trying to protect his girlfriend from being attacked by his two best friends. Justin would have initiated it; Wade would have just followed. Vanessa wept, remembering her own experiences with Mark. The pain, the fear, the isolation. Olivia wondering what she’d done to deserve that. She would have been so scared. Vanessa sat in the car, crying for Olivia. For the young girl who’d had her innocence and her dignity taken from her.

  She finally wiped her eyes. Wren, you poor darling. It must have been hard carrying this weight alone, and then when Olivia died, it was so much worse for you. Why couldn’t you have told me?

  She wished Olivia had told someone, got the help she needed. Why hadn’t Wren told anyone? Was he protecting his friends, or had they threatened both him and Olivia? It would make sense as to why neither of them spoke up.

  She had finally put the pieces of the puzzle together, but she didn’t feel any better. In fact, knowing the truth made her feel worse.

  Wren and Olivia had been so in love, their whole lives ahead of them, but that had been stolen from them in an instant, the moment when Justin and Wade had raped Olivia. But how would Vanessa prove it? All she had right now was her theory, which she knew to be the truth. Short of getting one or both of the boys to confess, she didn’t know how to get others to believe her. Their secret had died with Olivia and Wren. How convenient. Suddenly her eyes widened. Was it possible? Surely not. Yet still, convenient. Wren died in a car driven by Justin. He had swerved to miss a deer, yet there had been no skid marks and they had ended up slamming into a tree and there just happened to be a faulty airbag on Wren’s side. The question was, how far would Justin go to protect himself and Wade?

  Vanessa was looking for her boots in her wardrobe. They were her favorite pair and, for some reason, she was taken over by the desire to wear them. Did it really matter what she wore anymore? She didn’t give a shit most of the time and right now, she looked like crap. She was half in, half out of the wardrobe when someone spoke to her. She gave a little squeal of fright before backing out of the wardrobe. She was so jumpy, unable to concentrate since she’d worked it out, but she’d yet to tell anyone what had really happened to Olivia and Wren. She needed concrete proof, otherwise no one would believe her.

  ‘Can we talk, Vanessa?’ asked Billy. He was running late for work and she guessed it was because he wanted to talk whereas she just wanted to find her damn boots.

  She knew she was in trouble because he never called her by her full name. ‘Sure.’

  ‘I can’t deal with this anymore,’ he said, glancing at her then looking away.

  ‘Are you leaving me?’ she asked in a flat tone.

  ‘That’s so blunt; it’s much more complicated than that and you know it.’

  ‘Is it the truth though?’ She felt her heart beat fast, the rushing of blood in her ears almost drowning out her words.

  ‘I’m not sure. All I know is that you’re hardly ever here and when you are here, you’re not. Ty misses you, I miss you and we both need you.’

  ‘Well, that clears it right up for me, doesn’t it?’ She put her hands on her hips, staring intently at him. ‘Enlighten me, Billy. Please.’

  ‘All right then. You want the truth, I’ll tell you the truth. It’s like we, Ty and I, don’t matter to you anymore. Like Wren has the biggest piece of your heart and always will. You’re walled off and I’m worried it’ll be forever. He’s gone, Ness, and though we all mourn his passing, we’re not. We’re still here. Ty and I are still here. Waiting. For you. I just don’t know how much longer I can wait.’

  ‘Are you leaving me?’ she asked again, painfully aware that this was truly an option, but not willing to back down.

  ‘I’ll give you one more week. One more week of my heart and soul, then I have to do what’s best for me. I’ll back away and you won’t see me anymore.’ He seemed to not know what to do with his hands; he clenched his fists, then crossed his arms, then put them down by his side. Once he’d finished giving her his ultimatum, he left the bedroom.

  Vanessa sat back on the floor and picked up the one boot that she could find. She should have been thinking about what Billy had just unloaded on her, but she was thinking of Wren, of how devastated he must have been. Frustrated, she blew out a breath that sounded more like the raspberries that she used to blow on Wren’s tummy, listening to him giggling with delight. Instantly, she was transported back. Rolls of baby fat; skin as soft as velvet; wide, inquisitive eyes. Wren had been her salvation. Every day she was thankful that she had him. She suppressed a sob; she didn’t want Billy to hear her crying. It would show too much weakness. She thought about what he’d said, but the desire to finish what she started trumped everything else. Vanessa crawled back into the wardrobe, still looking for her other boot. She touched something hard and felt round the edges. It felt like a book. She grabbed it and pulled it out.

  It was one of Olivia’s diaries. It must have tumbled into the back when she’d thrown them into the wardrobe so Billy didn’t destroy any more. Great, she’d have to return it to Ryan. She wondered if she could just post it. It seemed like both the coward’s way out and a great idea. She looked at it a bit more closely. The other ones had broken spines; you could tell they’d been used. This one, however, was pristine. Like it had never been written in. She opened the book to the first page. There were two words written down.

  Wren knows.

  Wren knows what? A sinking feeling settled over her. Her body turned into a mass of pins and needles that punctured her skin. What did Wren know? That Olivia was going to commit suicide? Maybe she confided in him and that’s why he was so depressed, because he knew what was coming and there was nothing that he could do about it. She put the diary with its offending words down and dove back into the wardrobe, looking for Wren’s phone, which she’d discarded in there after reading his messages.

  She found the phone and held it in her hand for a long time before putting the phone and the diary into her bag. She made her way down the hallway and out to her car. Billy had already left after he’d spoken to her – well, at her.

  She had a week’s grace. A week to solve this mess, to wrap it up and get a confession from Justin and Wade so she could take it to the police. If she hadn’t finished it by then, she had two choices: keep at it and lose Billy, or keep Billy and lose Wren. She wasn’t prepared for either of those options.

  She resisted the urge to take out the phone and start playing with it. She was headed for the river, then changed her mind and began to head to where Wren had died. Vanessa pulled over to the side of the road, carefully crossing before sitting where she had last time. Someone had been here since; a teddy and a bouquet of flowers sat leaning against the side of the tree. She walked around to the back and found more. Had these been there last time? How had she not noticed them before? There were more teddy bears and cards. She read them all, thanking each and every kind soul for caring so much. Finally she came back around and sat back down.

  She took out the last diary and opened the page again.

  Wren knows.

  She knew she should tell Ryan that she suspected that
Wren may have known Olivia was going to kill herself but that would just confirm his theory that he was ultimately responsible when she didn’t know for sure. Justin and Wade were the ones who needed punishing, not Wren. Crucify them, not her baby.

  She believed with her whole heart that Wren had wanted to confide in her but didn’t know where to start. Maybe he would have told her eventually, but then Olivia had gone and done what she had done. He would have been feeling so much guilt. Olivia had committed suicide because she had been raped. It was as simple as that. Wren didn’t rape her, his friends did. Wren was an innocent bystander who’d tried his best to stop what had happened to Olivia but had been beaten down. Perhaps he’d lost consciousness as well. She’d never know but it made perfect sense.

  Her son was a hero, she knew that. He’d always been her hero. He’d taken a beating trying to save Olivia. A real hero. Did she blame him? Wren knows. It wasn’t an accusation, just information. Vanessa ran her hand down her long ponytail, feeling the tangled strands in between her fingers. She couldn’t remember the last time she brushed it, just chucking it up in a bun every morning. What did it matter anymore anyway? She massaged her temples, resting her elbows on her crossed legs. She had the beginnings of a whopping headache and she had no painkillers on her. The hot sun wasn’t helping. She’d have to go home soon.

  She pulled Wren’s phone out of her bag and then remembered the message she’d received from the school. Wren had an English oral presentation due today. He would have practiced it on the voice recording app. He always did that, just to time his speech and to see how he sounded. She was trying her best to remember what this speech would have been on.

  She searched for the app and finally found it on the last screen – always the way. It felt good, holding his phone in her hand; something so important to him, something that was always on him. She looked at the recordings log. There was his speech, recorded a few days before he died. He may have been depressed, but he still did his homework. But then there were two more recordings after that one.