In Too Deep

by Bradd Chambers

  Chapter Nineteen:

  Cleaning the surfaces of the counters for the fifth time, Ava busies herself with making every watermark invisible. The house is spotless, but she can’t do anything but clean. It stops her worrying.

  Dermott tried to ring twice once Mark came back into the bedroom from the shower. She hung up the first time right away, passing it off as a text. The second time she smothered it in her duvet. Luckily, Mark was too busy getting changed and talking about his meeting to notice. When he was leaving, he asked her again if she was alright.

  “Just coming to terms with things,” she smiled at him, knowing he wouldn’t pry at the front door or he would be late.

  He gave her a kiss on the cheek and squeezed her hands.

  “Remember, be ready for half six tonight. Not a minute later, okay?”

  She nodded.

  “It’ll give you a chance to wear that sexy red number you’ve been saving up,” he raised his eyebrows and clicked his tongue.

  She strained a smile and waved him off. When he was out of sight of the living room window, she checked her phone to see a text from Dermott confirming he’d be there soon. He just lives in Culmore, so it wouldn’t take him long.

  Now, she sits on the sofa in clear view of the window and her drive, perched on the end so she can jump up straight away once she sees his car. He arrives moments later, her frantically fixing her hair in the mirror above her fireplace. Like that would really make much of a difference. But if she opens the front door all wide eyes, tasselled hair and manic looking, it won’t help her case.

  She counts to three after he presses the door bell, before prepping herself and crossing the hall to the door. She smiles sweetly at him as he towers over her. At six foot three she’s sure he towers over most people. His hair has more grey inching its way up from his ears than the last time she saw him. Although his eyes have more lines around them, they’re still smiling down at her.

  “Ava,” he reaches for her hand and squeezes it instead of shaking it.

  She steps back to let him through the threshold and he gazes around at the tiny hallway.

  “This looks lovely. When did you move in?”

  “The start of December.”

  “I like what you’ve done with the place,” his voice booms as he saunters into the kitchen.

  Typical policeman, can encapsulate a whole room and doesn’t feel at all awkward in a new space. She follows, pouring water from the pre-boiled kettle into giant mugs.

  “Oh, none for me, thanks,” he holds up his hand as she reaches for the sugar jar. “Trying to cut down,” he taps his belly as it sinks over his belt.

  She smiles back. He had always been a bit on the heavy side, what with the number of takeaways and ready meals with the stressful and time-consuming job he had faced for the better part of forty years. But now, it seems retirement has taken its toll on him.

  “It’s the lack of exercise,” he sighs as he dips into a chair at the table. “It drives me mad. I tried to join the gym down at Strand Road. But all those Adonis wannabees taking videos and pictures of themselves made me sick. Can’t you go and better your health without telling the whole bloomin’ country?” he shakes his head.

  Ava nods along. Her social media is packed with those kind of lads, and ladies too. He thanks her as she hands over his mug and winces as he raises it to his lips.

  “Too hot? Do you need more milk?”

  “No, love. It’s not that. It’s just without sugar it seems pointless,” he smiles across at her as she takes the seat facing him, her back to the patio doors.

  At the head of the table sit the delivered box with shoes and note inside, right next to yesterday’s Letter with the lily. He doesn’t seem to notice the objects, and if he does, he ignores them.

  “So, what made you want to move out of your Aunt Robyn’s?”

  Ava shrugs.

  “I wanted a fresh start. Somewhere without any memories. I know I had the house in Springtown… But I could barely step foot back there to collect my things, never mind live there on my own. It was too hard. And with Robyn and Damien fighting all the time…”

  She trails off, unsure how much she should say. It’s okay talking to Robyn about it. She’s family. Dermott isn’t, no matter how much he feels like it.

  “Yeah, I was sorry to hear about their split.”

  Ava gives a look that he knows is some unspoken thanks.

  “So, formalities out of the way, why did you text me? Not that you can’t, of course. I’m always on the other line for a chitchat. But it seems more sinister than that…” He narrows his eyes at her.

  The normality of the conversation. It threw Ava. She almost doesn’t want to tell him. Make up some stupid excuse that it had been too long. Or that she was lonely. But she can’t do it. She has to know if there is something that can be done. Or if he knows something. Has heard something.

  “I’ve been getting rather… Strange things left at my door.”

  Dermott’s eyes expand. He straightens his back, fully attentive, back in work mode.

  “Strange things? What kind of strange things?”

  She bites her lip and tilts her head slightly to her left. Dermott gazes at the collection, going to reach out before halting.

  “May I?”

  “Of course.”

  Sensing something is wrong, he leans back in his chair and fishes out a pair of sterile gloves.

  “You still keep a pair on you?” she can’t help but guffaw.

  “Hi, you never know when you’re gonna walk in on a crime scene. I’ll tell you that for nothing. And if not, they’re always handy if the dog drops one at the side of the road,” he winks at her, snapping the gloves on right up to above his wrist.

  He lifts the lily first, the item closest to him. He turns it around in his hands, his face a mixture of curiosity and confusion. The paper’s next.

  “I haven’t seen this one,” his double chin prominent as he looks down his glasses at the story, holding it at arm’s length.

  “It was only in yesterday’s,” Ava sips her tea, bile in her throat.

  He nods several times as he skims the story. After he’s finished reading, he places the article down beside the flower and pulls the shoebox over. Lifting the lid precariously, he glances at the contents, lifting both shoes up and inspecting them before getting to the note. When he’s finished, he pushes his glasses to the top of his head and raises an eyebrow at Ava.

  “What are these?”

  “I think they’re threats.”

  “Threats?” he sounds astonished.

  “Aye, they’ve only begun to come in since I’ve started being a nuisance in Darrell Boyle’s plot to higher the railings on the new bridge. First the shoes came in on Wednesday, whether before or during our meeting I don’t know as I left the house very early. I didn’t think it was a threat then. But, I have the flower resting on the picture of my Mum’s face last night when I get in. At my back door too,” she thrusts her thumb behind her. “And lilies were her favourite flower. It just seems fishy…” She trails off as he re-examines the note.

  “’M?’”

  “I have no idea. I’ve thought of everyone.”

  “But why would they tell you they love you… If it was a threat? And why such expensive looking shoes? Albeit, they look a bit worn in. Second hand perhaps?”

  “I don’t know. To try and mess with me?” Ava decides against informing Dermott about the two occasions she had already worn them, ultimately taking the brand-new look off them.

  “And how would they know your mother’s favourite flower?”

  “Her memorial service? I mean the place was littered in them…”

  She rests her thumping head on a hand. He’s already beginning to poke holes in her theory, and she doesn’t blame him.

  “I must sound mad,” she laughs.

  “You don’t,” he rests everything back down on the table and struggles to slide his gloves off. “You sound like a gir
l who has been through an awful lot. It’s normal to see evil lurking around every corner after what you’ve been through. Believe me,” he attempts to soothe her, but she can’t take her eyes off the table, constantly picking at a dent in the wood.

  “I guess I just haven’t been getting enough sleep lately. And I’ve just been jumping to conclusions. Having nightmares. That kind of stuff,” she sniffs, begging the oncoming tears to stop.

  “It’s only natural, Ava. You’ve built this charity out of nothing, and now Boyle, who I’ve worked with in the past and can honestly say is an egotistical twat,” he spits out of the corner of his mouth, a hand pressed against his cheek like he’s whispering about him in a crowded room.

  Ava smiles and wipes her eyes.

  “Boyle’s bringing up trauma. Giving you, and the rest of the city, false hope. You want people to see what you’re doing, and he’s quashing that. It’s obviously stirred up your emotions, which will always be there. Some sort of reaction in you that you didn’t know existed. Your head’s a bit all over the show at the moment. I’d take today to catch up on sleep. Get back into your jammies and get something soppy on the Netflix. Or a comedy you can fall asleep to. Don’t be watching some horror film. That’ll just make everything worse, for Christ’s sake.”

  They both laugh and talk a while longer about her situation, the past, Robyn, Mark, before conversation turns to his retirement and his family.

  A little over an hour later, when Dermott is standing at the front door, his shadow hiding Ava from the big bad world outside, she feels a lot better. All cried out and a few laughs. Probably just what she needed after a long hard week.

  “I’ve to head on here, I promised Grainne I’d take her to Foyleside for some new dress she’s been crying after,” he rolls his eyes. “But listen, don’t give any more of this another thought, you hear me? And I won’t ring the boyos in the office and charge you with petty theft of those shoes,” he sniggers.

  He’s right. Mark’s right. She’s looked far too much into this. Saw dark figures when there weren’t any. He gives her a bear hug, making promises of always being a phone call away, before he marches out of the door and waves from his car. A lot more cheerful, Ava takes his advice and digs out the tub of caramel ice cream from the freezer, grabs a blanket and throws on a mind-numbing chick flick. She’s already lost the most important person in her life, she won’t lose anymore.

  ****

  The next morning, I woke feeling like my head had got run over by a double decker bus. Damien made us a good Irish fry, like the ones Da would make, before offering to leave me into town. I completely forgot that I had to open the shop after lunch. I groaned, hoping the shower would do me some good.

  After a not so tactical vomiting session, I’d scrubbed myself as well as I could’ve without bringing off skin. Damien still said he could smell drink off me anyway. As he pulled up on the pavement at the bottom of Shipquay Street, I thanked him before stepping out of his car. Trudging up to the shutters, I jumped when I heard a voice beside me.

  “Alright, gorgeous?”

  Visibly startled, I turned and was surprised to see Chris slouched against the wall beside my store. A single lily in his hand.

  “How did you…”

  “Phil told me. We had a nice chat in the chippie after you left last night,” he winked at me as I took the flower. “Never told me he was gay, now, did you? Trying to make me jealous?”

  I stared at him dumbfounded.

  “No,” I laughed quizzingly.

  “Well, anyway,” he narrowed his eyes at me, “Phil told me you’d be opening today. I did ask if I could see you again… Eh?”

  That cheeky crooked smile. The one that helped me fall in love with him and the one I would grow to hate.

  “And from what I can remember, I didn’t answer,” I coughed awkwardly, blushing at the memory. “And… The lily?”

  He looked at me with his lip protruded.

  “What about it? Do you not like it?”

  “No, I love it,” I’d said.

  How did you know it’s my favourite? I wanted to ask him.

  “Well, don’t let me stop you from the jobs that need doing,” he raised his eyebrows as Rachel slouched out of a taxi. “But, why don’t you give me a ring?”

  And with that, he took my hand, discreetly dropping a slip of paper with his number written on it, before pecking me on the cheek, turning away and sauntering up the street.

  “Well… Looks like someone got lucky last night,” Rachel nudged me.

  I scowled at her.

  “I did not. He just… Met me here this morning,” I blushed again.

  It sounded ridiculous.

  “Aye, okay. I believe you. Now can you hurry up and open the shutter? I’m in dire need of a headache tablet.”

  Chapter Twenty:

  Smiling at the door staff, Ava and Mark head through the open doors into the reception of the City Hotel. Immediately greeted with the wine-red theme of the upholstery of the hotel in the heart of the city, they trod through and up the stairs to the private function room.

  After paying for their two tickets, they bypass the bar on their left to travel further into the room to be greeted by Paul, the guy from Mark’s work. As the men speculate about business, Ava gazes around at the white washed table cloths fitted to the two dozen tables dispersed throughout the giant room, filled with fairy lights and the sound of the jazz band in the corner. She’s bound to find someone she knows, but with everyone standing and moving about, she finds it hard to judge how many people are actually here.

  “Awk, sorry,” Mark turns and places a hand reassuringly on Ava’s lower back, edging her into the conversation both physically and theoretically. “This is Ava.”

  Paul shakes her hand and gleams down at her cleavage a little too long, making her instantly uncomfortable and not a fan of his. Excusing herself politely, she marches straight over to the bar, ordering a gin and tonic and a small bottle of wine for Mark. Once ordered, she turns and inspects the people in the room again, her eyes finally settling on a purple dress with a sparkly brooch. But it isn’t what she’s wearing, it’s who’s wearing it.

  “Kat,” she exclaims.

  Turning sideways with a smile, Kat’s face instantly falls when she sees Ava. Chuckling nervously as she hobbles over, her clutch pressed against her stomach, no doubt to make her look a little thinner.

  “Ava, hi. What are you doing here?”

  “Mark’s a friend of the organiser,” she smiles at her. “You?”

  “I’m actually dating his brother,” she grimaces, pointing over at the man she was standing beside mere moments earlier. Ava can see a striking resemblance, hopefully he’s not a perv too.

  “I had no idea you were dating,” she mocks punching her on the arm. “Good for you.”

  “Yeah, yeah. The boys are with their da this weekend, so I thought why not?”

  “How long have you been seeing him?”

  “Two weeks,” she nods along, eyes expanded.

  “That’s a bit quick to invite you to something like this…” Ava bites her tongue.

  It’s none of her business.

  “Sorry-“

  “No, no. You’re right. I agree,” she sighs. “But after the stress with the kids, it’s nice to let your hair down every once in a while.”

  They both smile and nod whilst Ava pays the barman. When she lifts the drink to her mouth and takes the first sip, she knows she’ll have a glass in her hand all night.

  “Well, nice to see-“ she begins to pick up the glasses and bottle, before she’s interrupted.

  “Ava, I have a confession to make,” Kat exhales dramatically. “I wasn’t sick yesterday. Garrett-“ she nods in the direction of Paul’s brother, “- got me an appointment with a beautician. I got everything, and I mean everything done,” she raises an eyebrow at Ava.

  Ava smiles through her disgust. Is she imagining it or is Kat swaying her dress a little too awkwardly? She
doesn’t need to know about her bikini wax.

  “Your eyebrows look lovely,” she nods.

  “That’s not all. He got my hair done, it was a bastard to sleep in last night, and took me shopping in Debenhams. Debenhams, Ava. I only walk through there to get to Foyleside. No Primark for me tonight.”

  She definitely is swaying her dress now intentionally, forcing Ava to admire it.

  “And today, he took me to get my makeup and tan done. He pulled out all the stops… And all I can think about is how I lied to you… Well, lied to Michael. When I should’ve been helping… I was off beautifying myself. I’m sorry.”

  Ava waves away her apology.

  “There’s no need to apologise. I would’ve understood. Just tell me the truth next time,” she points her finger at her sternly before laughing.

  It’s a forced laugh, but not as forced as Kat’s is. Through the gaggle of people, Mark finally rests his eyes on Ava and skirts over.

  “There you are, thought you’d got lost with my drink,” he smirks at her, reaching for his wine bottle.

  After making introductions between Kat and Mark, Ava finally gets a respite to take another sip of her drink. The three discuss a bit about charities before the awkwardness becomes unbearable and Ava almost yelps with delight when Kat states she’s going back to her date. But, of course, that means she has to socialise with more people.

  Chapter Twenty-One:

  “Imagine the cheek of her,” Paul shakes his head as everyone laughs along to his story, Ava managing a little chuckle to keep the peace. “And the worst thing about it? She’s married to a politician over all people.”