“Aye, you asked if we could do something?”
“Aye, on the Saturday,” he looked over his shoulder again towards Lindsay, who was still standing where he left her, kicking stones across the pavement and out onto the road.
“I’m sorry… Er… I wanted to surprise you?” I narrowed my eyes at him.
“And that’s nice and all… But…” He seen my grudging stare. “What’s this really about?”
Lindsay coughed dramatically, only stopping when we looked over and composing herself with a fake ‘excuse me.’
Chris expanded his eyes at her, before turning back to me. Grunting with disgust, I stormed off, ignoring his calls as I started to cry in the middle of the street.
Chapter Thirty:
The screams and laughter of kids reverberate across the field, primarily used for football in the centre of the running tracks. Hundreds of people have turned out to enjoy the evening. The bouncy castle wobbles with the mass of children inside, the owner having to stand at the front and dictate a one-in, one-out system for health and safety reasons. The sides of the pitch clogged with vans selling chips, burgers, kebabs and other festival style foods. The small stage at the top gathers the performer’s fans, singing along to the rendition of ‘Wonderwall’ blasting through the speakers.
Ava stands and examines her creation. What a success. Dozens of newly retired men and women and homemakers with their kids going to school in September have approached her to say they want to volunteer when the new space opens. Whether with admin or a listening ear, it’s all more than Ava expected. Much more.
Her eyes settle on Robyn, who staggers towards her and her heart drops. She did say she was going to call over, but Ava didn’t expect her to be drunk. Hurrying over towards her aunt, she fakes a smile before linking arms with Robyn and twirling her around towards the steps and back up to where she came from, Browning Drive.
“Robyn, you’re plastered!”
“Am I fuck,” Robyn hiccups. “I just went for my lunch over the town and had a few glasses of red before tottering over to see you.”
She attempts to pull away from Ava, turning her top half in the direction of the fundraiser. But Ava strives on, dragging Robyn’s wonky, jelly-like body along with ease.
“Lunch? It’s past seven o’clock, for Christ’s sakes. You need to leave. Everything’s going well. I can’t have…”
Her voice falters as they reach the top of the incline, the carpark in sight.
“You can’t have – me embarrassing you?” Robyn mutters.
Ava’s heart sinks.
“Look, Rob… This is a big deal, okay? If you were sober, of course you’d have been welcome. But no… I can’t have any drunk people at this. It’s family friendly. I’ve already had a few side-eye complaints about there not being a bar here. Please, Robyn. I need you to leave. I’ll come over and talk later. For Mum’s sake?”
She knew she’d pressed the right button before she had even said it. But she can’t feel guilty. Nothing can go wrong. Not tonight. Tears collect in the corner of Robyn’s eyes.
“For your mum… I… I did have a contribution, but…”
Ava shakes her head, both with acceptance and annoyance, and goes to soothe Robyn before she stumbles forward. But instead of heading up the drive towards home, she crosses the road and heads for Ebrington Square, en route to the Peace Bridge which will allow her access over to the Derry side once more.
The Peace Bridge is a footbridge across the River Foyle that was opened in the summer of 2011 in a desperate attempt to bring unity between the predominantly Catholic Derry side and the primarily Protestant Waterside after a troubled past. Ironically, there have been spats of sectarian attacks on and around it to make the local community wonder whether the £14 million development was even worth it. Despite this, it attracts countless number of tourists and helps decrease parking in the city centre.
When Robyn finally reaches the corner and disappears from sight, Ava returns to her charity night. Stepping down the first few steps, she casts another nostalgic overview of the area, only to gasp when she sees who is lurking in the shadows of the hot dog van.
Chapter Thirty-One:
Taking the steps two at a time and marching across the field, her scowl prominent despite the throng of people, she spits venomously when she reaches the hideaway.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Darrell Boyle breathes in, bringing himself to his tallest, which isn’t very effective at five foot nothing.
“Free country, isn’t it, McFeely?”
Ava narrows her eyes at him, very aware of the people around her. No one has given them a second glance… Yet. She instantly turns to work mode.
“Of course it is, Boyle. But why would you come to such an event? I don’t condone fox hunting, so I wouldn’t go to a fundraiser to support keeping it lawful. I’m merely asking of your intentions here?”
Boyle smirks discreetly.
“Clever girl. I never thought that about you, you know that? You might be young and innocent looking… But the woes of the world have lit a fire in you. A fire I admire, if I’m honest.”
His eyes sparkle as he talks to her, leaning forward ever so slightly until she can feel his breath in her face.
“There’s no need to go through all this trouble, you know? Getting Z-listers and pizza vans infested with salmonella on your side. Just to make a bit of extra cash and to prove a point to me. We want the same thing, you and me.”
Bile rises in Ava’s throat.
“We definitely don’t.”
“No?” Boyle raises his eyebrows. “We want to stop people committing suicide. We should be on the same team here, shouldn’t we? Could be…” He winks. “Partners.”
Ava makes a guttural sound.
“I would never be partners with the likes of you.”
Boyle’s gaze travels down to her top, her breasts bulging out as she stands defiantly. She sheepishly wraps her jacket tighter around her. Boyle looks back into her eyes with an even bigger grin. Almost as if he won.
“You know… My wife’s away this weekend. I’ll have the house all to myself… If you wanted to-“
“Darrell Boyle, I didn’t expect to see you here.”
Darrell visibly retreats back a few inches and turns to the intruder. Ava has never been so happy to see Cathal.
“You know,” Darrell clears his throat dramatically. “Just eyeing up the competition.”
His eyelid closest to Ava flickers as he smiles professionally.
“Lovely to see you again, Ava. And good luck with all this,” he wavers his hand towards the pitch as a whole before turning and sauntering further into the park, leaving Ava, Cathal and the rest of the fundraiser in his wake.
Ava and Cathal watch him go before finally resting their eyes on one another, each smiling slightly.
“You came?”
“Of course. Sorry I’m a bit late. I tried my hardest to persuade Orla to come, but she’s getting big now. Doesn’t want to be seen with her older brother. I thought a few friends from school would be here, but turns out they’d rather hang out outside the library on Foyle Street instead.”
“No need to apologise, although it would be much better if your sister was hanging out inside the library rather than out.”
The two share a laugh.
“I… I’m sorry about Saturday night, Cathal. Mark came down and saw me and asked if I wanted a lift home. He’d ordered the taxi already and it was sitting outside. I tried to wait for you, but the driver was an impatient ol’ bastard.”
Why is she lying? Cathal nods along regardless.
“Mark?”
“Aye, Mark…”
Oh, my God, Ava thinks. Has she really never mentioned Mark to Cathal? This makes her seem even more deceitful.
“My boyfriend.”
The alarm in Cathal’s face can’t be subdued.
“Oh… Right. Well, that’s no worries, Ava. I was there for work a
nyway. My editor wouldn’t have been happy if he’d have known I was sitting having drinks with you instead,” he chuckles.
It all sounds so innocent, but yet…
They gaze around them, taking in the scene, and shift uncomfortably. Their eyes occasionally meeting, an overly eager smile on both of their faces. Each one goes to say something and stops, before repeating the same transaction.
“You go,” Ava points at him lazily.
“Speaking of work, I best be off. Taking pictures again today, but also doing a bit of a colour piece. Going to talk to a few people as well. Could I steal a quote from you later?”
“Of course you can,” Ava nods at him as he shifts off into the crowd, taking in the sweat patches below his armpits and down his back that she didn’t notice before.
Chapter Thirty-Two:
Wandering aimlessly around the pitch, Ava smiles towards people she’d know to see, and exchanges pleasantries to strangers who know of her. Infamous in the city. No longer a face in the crowd. Her smile drops every time she thinks she isn’t being examined, which isn’t very often. She’s the star of the show. Passing the arts and crafts tent, she’s shocked to see her standing there.
“Ava!” Zoe pulls herself away from the table where she had just finished painting whiskers on a toddler’s face.
“What are you doing here?” Ava welcomes the hug whole heartedly.
“Just volunteering, the usual,” she winks at Ava. “This is incredible,” she says, surveying the scene.
“Aye… Great turn out,” Ava smiles, turning and looking at her masterpiece.
The silence grows awkward. Like it always does.
“How have you been?” Zoe says the inevitable.
“Grand… Grand. Just keeping busy with all this, you know? And you?”
“Aye, I’m okay…” Zoe bites her lip.
Ava’s seen it before. They never want to say they’re more than okay or bring forward good news involuntarily. It’s like Ava’s a wounded animal who will pass away at the prospect of someone else’s life going better than her own.
“How’s Ronan?”
“All good… In fact…”
She blushes as she pats her stomach, her teeth clenched in an awkward smile.
“You are not!”
“Aye… Four months.”
They embrace once again.
“I’m so happy for you.”
“I know. It’s so weird. It wasn’t even planned. I thought Ronan was going to leave me when he found out,” she laughs, making Ava’s eye twitch slightly in shock. “He always said he hated kids. Wanted nothing to do with them. But now… I don’t know. He was over the moon. I always said to him it’ll be different when it’s his own. So, here’s hoping,” she crosses her fingers as she brings them up to her cheeks, happy tears in her eyes.
“I wish you all the luck in the world,” Ava tries to bring the warmth of her smile to her eyes, but she’s afraid she’ll be given away. “I’ll leave you to it,” she directs her head towards the queue of kids waiting. “Thanks so much for coming and please, don’t be a stranger.”
The irony of the statement isn’t lost on her as she trudges off, eager to escape, sure she’ll be avoiding the crafts tent for the rest of the night.
Zoe is a volunteer with the Foyle Search and Rescue. Foyle Search and Rescue is a charity in the city set up over 20 years ago to target the increase of deaths by drowning and suicide in the River Foyle. Zoe was on call the night Ava’s mother jumped. She was still very young, in her early twenties, at the time. She sympathised with Ava immediately as she’d lost her own mother to cancer at a similar age. Zoe was Ava’s source within the group, and often after an unsuccessful search she would land to Robyn’s house for a chat and a cup of tea. Reassuring Fiona’s remaining family that they were doing everything they could to find her body. Unfortunately, with it being the middle of winter, and the water close to freezing, the chances of a body resurfacing anytime soon were slim.
Afterwards, when the search was finally called off, Zoe still visited Ava a couple of times a week. Sharing intimate memories of their mothers. But, as what happens many friendships, life intervened. There were times Zoe was contacted during her visits to say she was needed on the boat. The visits dwindled to a few times a month, to once every few months. Then, eventually, she stopped visiting altogether. Tonight was the first time Ava had saw her in close to a year, although there was the odd Facebook like and comment.
Ava doesn’t hold Zoe responsible for being unable to find her mother’s body. Nor for her not being a main priority in her life anymore. It would be terribly foolish of her, considering the number of people entering the river every year. But seeing her genuinely happy and beginning to start a family of her own, moving on with her life… It struck a cord in Ava. A selfishness that she couldn’t hide, wishing she could do the same.
Zoe had her mourning. She had the weeks and months leading up to her mum’s death to get herself in the mind frame that she was never going to be at her wedding. Or at her bedside when she was giving birth. Zoe had kissed her mother’s cold face goodbye at the funeral. Of course, everyone told her that even if her mum’s body was found, there would be no way Ava would ever be able to do such a thing. But it still stings. It’s made her feel like she’d not moved forward in the past three years. Living life like a zombie whilst everyone moves on with theirs. Like she was stuck in slow motion. Now, with Mark not speaking to her, and the recent depression and paranoia kicking in, it feels like she’s taken a step back, if anything.
Realising she’s at the edge of the pitch, just beside the houses overlooking the night, she turns and stands by the stage, surveying everyone’s cheery faces. Singing along. Laughing with friends. Exchanging gossip. All eyes bright with excitement. They’ve all come tonight for a good cause. She wouldn’t be ungrateful and say they haven’t. But how many of them have truly felt how she’s felt? Lying awake at night wondering why she wasn’t enough? Why her mother felt so awful that she would leave her only daughter alone and scared in the world at only 17-years-old? What she could’ve done to make her stay? To stop her?
Instead of having a stupid argument before slopping to bed. Throwing pillows and big heavy jumpers under the covers in the shape of a human. Climbing out of her window and perilously crossing the garden, her mother’s back to her as she watched the TV. Ava’s last ever image of her. Just the back of her head inching out from above the sofa. If she could only go back in time and leave meeting Mark in the car to another night. She’d rush back in through the front door and embrace her mother. Tell her she loved her. Force her to stay. Barricade the doors. Ring an ambulance. A doctor. Robyn. Anyone who could talk some sense into her. Make sure she didn’t leave her.
All these unanswered questions that she’d had running around her head ever since that night. Questions that will never be answered. She wipes the tears collecting in her eyes as she forces a smile, making her way back into the crowd. Determined to make her proud.
Chapter Thirty-Three:
Smiling towards the phone in The X Factor alumni’s manager’s hand, Ava had been oddly confused when he had asked her for a ‘selfie.’ But now as she stands with his arm draped around her shoulder, she realises the true intention. To boost his social media presence. God, she’s nearly as well-known as him around Derry, she doesn’t blame him for wanting to show off and clasp onto his 15 minutes of fame. Fair play to him, she thinks, because ultimately hers came at a tragic price. He thanks her, before moving over to the collection of fans clasping posters and CDs, eagerly wanting his attention. Skirting around the feverish teenagers, Cathal nods in the direction of the ex-contestant.
“Making celeb friends?”
Despite the awkward atmosphere between them, Ava gives an honest laugh.
“You know, getting bored around these parts, no-one but our Nadine Coyle to keep me company. Looking to branch out. Sorry, were you looking for a photo of the two of us?” Ava puts her hand behind
her head and pouts in mock seduction.
“Naw, I’m sure I can just pull it from your man’s Instagram later,” he winks at her. “But I will take a quote now, if you don’t mind?”
Ava nods as they move over to the side of the pitch for privacy. It’s just after 10pm and all that are left are a few stragglers looking for photographs and autographs from the performers, the hospitality crew packing away their things and friends who have obviously experienced an unexpected reunion, as they clutch their irritable kids who aren’t at all happy about their parent’s conversations. The duo take a seat down at the side, metres from the trees separating the park from the railway tracks, their backs to the city they were campaigning all night for.
“Just say something simple like ‘I would like to thank everyone for coming and supporting us. You have all been a pivotal movement in our journey towards success.’ Then ring me tomorrow when we have gathered up all the money, and I’ll let you know how much we’ve raised,” Ava laughs, nodding to Michael as he waves over, making a pantomime of thrusting his thumb behind him towards his rucksack, no doubt filled with all the cash they’d collected tonight.
“That would be perfect. Just in time for publication on Friday.”
“No bother.”
“Wait, one more thing,” he extends his hands before Ava lifts herself up.
Reaching over and grabbing a brown paper bag that Ava hadn’t noticed before, he produces two badly battered tinfoil spheres.
“A thanks for treating me to drinks the other night. I didn’t know what you liked, so I just asked for it plain. But there’s cheese slices and red sauce in here too if you want them?”
Ava undresses the burger and smiles over at him, before requesting the red sauce. With all the stress of the evening she had forgotten to eat dinner.
“Very kind of you, Cathal.”
They eat the cold burgers in silence as they survey the dwindling numbers of people. The man stomping on the deflating bouncy castle to squeeze out the last puffs of air. The boy pulling at his mother’s arm as he drags her away from her friend, who both hurriedly throw across departing messages and waves. The gaggle of girls still drooling over The X Factor star. Three about 14-years-old and a woman with dark spiky hair that Ava guesses is one of their mothers. She can only see her side profile, and it’s hard to make out from this far away, but a stab of recognition hits Ava. She squints her eyes in her direction whilst she hears Cathal’s voice beside her, but nothing of what he says reaches her ears. She can’t take her eyes off the woman. It’s the nose, it looks the absolute double of…
In Too Deep Page 9