“No bother, I already know I’m getting the chicken. It was lovely last time.”
Chapter Fifty-Eight:
It’s way past closing time when Ava and Robyn finally fall out of the bar into the corridor, forcing a rather impatient and tired looking barman to fail to hide a smile as he closes the door behind them. They roll around the floor laughing for a while, holding onto each other. They had drunk a lot. This is the drunkest Ava has been since she was a teenager. Robyn just kept refilling her glass.
“Here, I’ve an idea,” Robyn struggles to her feet, holding out a hand to pull Ava up along with her. “Let’s go to the beach.”
For some reason, the idea is hilarious. They race each other down to reception and out of the door, panting down the drive until they come out onto the lane. Discarding their shoes at the top of the steps, they hop down them and onto the beach, the sand slowing them down, sucking them under as they desperately try to fight their way to the sea. Only when they’re ankle deep in the cold water do they stop.
Holding onto each other, still laughing while gasping for breath, they look out onto the vista. The moon is full and bright as they survey the beach. The night air tepid to stop them shivering. When they finally catch their breath, the water sobering them slightly, they migrate up the beach and plonk themselves down on fluffy sand, metres from the waves.
“It’s so beautiful down here,” Ava observes, running a hand through her hair, knowing she’ll be picking sand out of it all tomorrow morning but no longer caring.
She knows she should be looking out to make sure no one’s watching her. Coming up behind her. But she doesn’t care about that either. She’d taken many winding roads, dodgy pull-outs in traffic and ran a few too many red lights to make sure they weren’t being followed here. She loses herself for a few moments. Pressing down her fear. Daring something to happen. The serenity of the night floods through her. It’s perfect.
“Your mum loved the beach,” Robyn stares straight in front, right out into the sea.
Ava looks at her desperately. Robyn hardly ever mentions her sister, and if the subject is breached, she quickly changes it.
“Used to love collecting shells. I remember saving up and buying her a plain wooden jewellery box for her birthday one year. She fell in love with it, like I knew she would. We spent all day gluing the shells onto it, and the ones we had left over we stored inside it. She kept it on her bedside table for a long, long time.
“We had a massive row a few years later, and I smashed that same jewellery box against the wall. God, did we fight growing up. Her wanting to be old before her time, me still wishing I was as young as her.”
There was an impressive 12-year-gap between Robyn and Ava’s mum. She used to joke that she was the ‘oops’ baby, as her parents had been defiant that they would only have one child, Robyn.
“She was always so mature, so driven… I have no idea where she got it from,” she laughs, choking up. “Probably Mum and Dad. They saw themselves in her.”
Ava watches her aunt as she, understandably, remembers her dead parents. Her dead sister. Her eyes glazed over with memories and tears. Putting an arm around her, Ava presses her head into her shoulder. They sit for a while longer before Ava finally spits the request out.
“Tell me about that night again.”
Robyn stiffens.
“You don’t want to hear that.”
“I do.”
“Once was enough.”
“You told it to the police countless times,” Ava pulls away from her embrace.
“And every time it hurt less and less until it numbed me. I don’t want the same thing to happen to you.”
“It won’t, I promise. I just want to… Remember her.”
Robyn stares at her for a while before finally nodding her head, tapping her knee for Ava to lay her head down properly. They lie and listen to the waves crashing, sinking into the sand, while Robyn thinks about where to start.
“She texted me to tell me she couldn’t do it anymore. That she needed to go. I always knew she had problems. Problems she kept hidden from you for your own sake. She said she loved me, and she loved you, but we were better off without her. Told me she was leaving all her possessions to you for when you turned 18, and for me to make sure that you got them.
“I just instantly knew what she was doing. I jumped in the car and sped towards the bridge, finding her about halfway over. One leg on either side of the railings. I got out of the car and sprinted towards her, shouting for her to stop. She looked up at me and I could see she was crying. She told me to look after you… And then… She did it. She just slid right off.”
Both of them are crying freely now, clinging onto each other for entirely different support than a half hour ago.
“I ran over to the railings, but she was already gone. I rang the police and they got in contact with the Foyle Search and Rescue. They patrolled that river for hours, and I sat in the back of a police car with a stupid tinfoil blanket wrapped around me. Feeling completely useless. Just hoping and praying that they’d find her alive. That they’d drag her out of that awful river… But they never did.”
****
And then Chris died. Just like that, he was gone. Not that he was ever present. But I still saw him a few times a year. And knew where I could find him on any given Friday or Saturday night. I never spoke to him, of course. But it’s just odd that someone that once meant so much to me, and helped procreate the most special person in my life, was just… No longer there.
Robyn told me. A girl in her work who was friends with Lisa on Facebook had seen it. I spent all day wondering whether to tell Ava. Why should she care? Would she want to go to the funeral? Make amends with the family? With her half brothers and sisters? I didn’t want that. What if they didn’t know about her? If they were never told? What kind of can of worms would that have released into our lives? And theirs? But I couldn’t be selfish. Ava had to make her own decision. This was the only chance she would ever get.
I told her after school that day. I collected her and we walked through Brooke Park as it was a nice enough day. Her expression changed when I told her the news. She was more confused than upset. She asked me what she should do. Everything screamed at me to tell her to run from it. Forget about it. Good riddance. But I couldn’t. I told her it was her decision.
She agreed to go to the funeral. She didn’t have anything black, so we went to Next to get her a dress and a cardigan. When I went up to pay, she said she felt sick. Running out of the shop, she stood overlooking the railings in Foyleside Shopping Centre. I really thought she’d vomited over the side. Thankfully, she hadn’t. I took her hand and walked her home, before nuzzling onto the sofa with her. Her favourite soup boiling on the stove and her reign over the remote control.
She didn’t go in the end. We were all set and ready, me walking her there, obviously. Damien ready to go and sit in the church with her. But once she came down the stairs, I knew she wasn’t going. She was pale white, no colour in her face. The black on black didn’t help. She always wore colourful garments. She stopped a few steps from the bottom and shook her head. We asked her if she’d regret it. If she wanted to go and stay in her car. Watch the burial from afar. She didn’t say anything, just shook her head once more, before turning and marching straight back up the stairs again. My stubbornness shining through with every ascended step.
Chapter Fifty-Nine:
She wakes with her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Reaching out blindly to the bedside table, she fails to grab hold of any form of liquid. Squinting one eye open, it takes her a while to realise where she is. She twists around and sees Robyn snoozing beside her. Still no sign of water anywhere. She tears her lips apart painfully, remembering the bottle of Diet Coke in her bag.
Sipping on the warm flat liquid, she thinks back on last night. She doesn’t even remember leaving the beach or getting back into the hotel, never mind to bed. Resting on the seat by the window, she looks o
ut onto the dreary day, her eyes settling on the beach. Remembering everything that was said.
She’d heard it all before, of course. Three years ago. At her mum’s memorial service. Robyn crying outside the chapel, confessing to her what had happened. Tight lipped for weeks before. She was scared in case Ava would blame her. Ava had told her she was being ridiculous.
Bringing her phone out of her bag, she switches it on. As soon as she crossed the border, she had got attacked with text messages and e-mails about different deals and tariffs, so she’d turned it off to give herself a bit of peace. Switching it to silent mode in fear of waking her aunt, she sends Dermott a quick text asking for progress. She doesn’t expect him to text back first thing on a Saturday morning, but he does.
‘Only managed to get Robyn’s done last night. Over at yours this morning. I’ll leave both keys in our safe place. D x.’
Ava throws him a quick thanks as she hears Robyn stirring. Switching her phone off again, she waltzes over and sits at the foot of the bed. Ava smiles down at Robyn as she looks up, bleary eyed, her cropped hair dishevelled.
“Alright, love?”
“Aye, you?”
“Apart from my mouth feeling like a fur boot?”
Ava snorts as she hands Robyn the residual Coke.
“I had fun last night,” Ava blushes as her aunt drains the bottle.
“Me too, we should do it more often,” Robyn smiles. “But, the fun’s not over yet. Let’s get ready for our fabulous spa day, darling,” she puts on a posh English accent that leaves Ava cackling.
Chapter Sixty:
The pair laugh and share stories the whole drive home. After an immense breakfast, the day was spent lounging around in dressing gowns and a full body massage that was so relaxing it almost made Ava forget about the trouble of the past few days.
When they pull into Derry City, Ava remembers about the new key and starts panicking. Thinking of different ways she can present the story of getting brand new keys cut without Robyn speculating that anything sinister is going on.
“I had a lovely night and day,” Robyn squeezes Ava’s hand as it rests on the gearstick. “Why don’t I treat you to dinner?”
Ava’s smile breaks out and she nods. Forgetting to act noble, trying not to arouse suspicion, she half attempts denial, but thankfully, Robyn insists. She parks by the quay, the river separating them from Robyn’s house. Robyn goes to get out whilst Ava fights with her handbag, finally finding her phone.
“Er… Go and grab us a table, will you? I need to make a quick phone call. Business,” she adds as Robyn gives her an odd look.
Shrugging her shoulders, she makes a start across the road whilst Ava turns on her phone. She’s bombarded with text message tones, but she ignores them as she rings Dermott’s number.
“Alright, stranger?”
“Not so bad, Dermott. You’re not going to believe this, but I need one last favour. I haven’t told Robyn anything that’s been going on. I’m too afraid it’ll upset her and set off one of her moods. And after the past few days, I’m scared of what she’ll do. She’s taking me out for dinner here, is there any chance you could meet us at her house? Pretend you’re just calling around to check up on her, like? And pass me the key? Then I’ll change her key for the new one whilst you distract her. I know I’ve been asking a whole lot of you recently, I owe you about twelve pints. But this is the last one, I promise.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep. And don’t worry about it. I’m happy to help. Past few days have been great for me. I’m fed up with pottering about the house. Sick to the teeth of crosswords and word searches. It’s good to be out and about, even if it’s just running the odd errand or pretending to be back in the force.”
That reminds Ava.
“You’re a gem, Dermott. Sure, when we get Robyn settled, I can show you the picture that was left on my kitchen table?”
“Do rightly.”
Hanging up shortly after and shoving her phone in her handbag, before pushing it underneath her seat, Ava hurries across the street to where she can see Robyn leaning out of the restaurant doors, waving her inside.
Chapter Sixty-One:
After dinner’s finished, Robyn continues to complain about the draught coming in every time the door opens, her jacket collar pulled up to protect her neck.
“Gone you ahead into the car, I’ll get this.”
“No, no. You paid for the spa and the hotel. I can at least get your dinner.”
Robyn pulls out a crisp £50 note from her purse and places it on the table, before squirming deeper into her jacket as the door opens once more. Ava picks up the note and tosses her aunt her car keys.
“Gone, get yourself comfortable. I’ll wait at the bar.”
Silently thanking her, Robyn stands and slinks off outside. Ava joins the throng of people queuing to pay for their meal, ignoring the eyeballs from the people still waiting to get seated. It’s a Saturday night, they were lucky there were only two of them or there’d be no hope of getting a table. They’d had to settle for one down by the bar, next to the kitchen and the toilets. Constantly getting elbowed by people making their way past them.
She gazes at the stairs leading up to the main seating area, thinking about the last time she was here. How she climbed them same stairs in the new shoes, believing that Mark was going to propose. The first unsettling feelings in this very place. The feelings that haven’t been erased in the fortnight since. Only grew with more adding to the mix.
It takes her a while to realise that someone has stopped on the stairs and is waving at her. Cathal. He struts down the remaining stairs and joins her.
“How’re you doing?” he asks after the greetings are made.
“Aye, grand. Was just in Donegal with my aunt for the night.”
But I’m sure you already know that, Ava feels like saying before stopping herself. Cathal is innocent in all of this. She’s too hypersensitive.
“Lovely. It nice down there?”
“Bit nippy at night, like. And the weather wasn’t great. We were inside all day anyway. Getting spa treatments,” Ava rests her hands under her chin and gazes to the roof dramatically.
“Oh, excuse us,” Cathal snorts. “Most luxury I’d get is a bubble bath.”
The two giggle before Ava asks him what he’s doing here. Turning and pointing through the bannister, he shows Orla digging into an ice cream float.
“It’s Orla’s birthday. Big 15 today.”
“Oh, that’s lovely. Tell her I wish her a happy birthday. Is that who they were singing to earlier?”
Ava had saw the float with the sparklers dive past her table, but because of their position downstairs, she hadn’t seen the recipient as the birthday theme had boomed over the speakers.
“One of many,” Cathal rolls his eyes. “She’s a bit ragin’. Must’ve wanted all the attention on her.”
The restaurant had sung happy birthday to at least three different people, including Orla, since Ava had been seated.
“Anyway, just nipping to the bog here and then we’ve got to run. She’s looking to have friends over tonight. Scary DVD and Christ knows what else. I’m in for a fun night.”
Ava sniggers as Cathal nods to her and heads towards the toilets. Turning her attention to the bar again, she’s annoyed to see someone arguing with the staff member over something on his receipt. She just wants to get home. She’d asked Dermott to be at Robyn’s a good hour ago, she thinks as she checks her watch. He must be on his way over now.
She sees someone out of the corner of her eye staring at her and she freezes. Never did she think she’d feel so vulnerable in a space full of people. But when she turns in their direction, she sees it’s only Mark.
“I was like ‘who’s that staring at me?’” she smiles, going to grab his arm, but he swings it out of grasp. “You alright?”
Mark shakes his head, his jaw stiffened, eyes furious. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen him this angry before.
He goes to storm off, but the restaurant’s too packed and he draws to a halt, fighting to get past people. Luckily, Ava can grab his arm, but he drives on, pulling her along behind him. She apologises as she knocks into some people, their drinks spilling on the floor, as they curse after her.
When they exit the front door, he makes a right towards the town centre, but Ava gives one last hard tug and it unbalances him.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Mark?”
“Me?” he spirals around, squaring up to her. “Me? What the fuck is wrong with you, Ava? You know, I actually felt sorry for you there, for a while. Using your aunt as a fuckin’ sympathy card. I’m not having it any more, do you hear me? We’re finished!”
Ava rushes in front of him and pushes him into the wall. Aware that people around her will think that it’s a bit early on a Saturday night for this drunk couple to be having a domestic, but she doesn’t care. She needs to get to the bottom of this.
“Why are you being like this? Please talk to me, Mark?”
“Oh, but I’ve tried, Ava. I’ve tried. I rang your phone and it went straight to voicemail. Sent you a text asking what you wanted to do tonight. See if we can sort something out. Hearing absolutely nothing from you, I decided I’d go out for a few drinks and dinner with the guys from work. Something I called off, may I add, for you! Texted you telling you where I’d be, but naw, that doesn’t stop you. You sat down the stairs at the City Hotel with him, so why would that stop you from having a lovely meal with him here, right in front of my eyes. Eh?”
Ava’s head is reeling.
“Is this about Cathal?”
“I don’t give a fuck what his name is. He’s bloody lucky he sulked off to the toilet, ‘cause I was fit to be tied. I was ready to knock the bastard out.”
In Too Deep Page 15