“Mark, I’m gay!”
Cathal shouts the last word, making several people at neighbouring tables turn their heads. Mark just stares at him, trying to detect a hint of a lie. But he stands there proud. Shoulders back. Not so much as a tremor in his voice.
“You’re… You’re gay?”
Chapter Seventy-Five:
Despite it being night time outside, the change from the darkness still shocks her as he opens the boot. She strains her eyes against the newfound light. The rain thunders down on top of her. She catches a few drops on her tongue and the rest is shrouded over her. Dampening her clothes within seconds. It’s as if she’s experienced a new lease of life. The air and the rain bring out all her conserved energy that she didn’t know she had. Her elbows help her bolt upright, ready to jump out of the boot.
But before she has a chance, in one swift movement he has a knife pushed against her neck, starting to break skin. She turns to him in shock. He’s still got the hood up, but his piercing eyes can’t hide in the shadows.
“Get out slowly and get into the car.”
She struggles out, both from fear and slipping with the wet, before pulling open the back door to the car and sliding in. She’s shocked to see him joining her, slamming the door and cutting off the sound of the storm and the world outside.
“I take it you and your ma have had a nice catch up and you know who I am?”
Ava’s eye flickers with an idea.
“Look, you’ve got the wrong person. My ma is dead. She killed herself years and years-“
Without warning, he grabs the back of her head and slams it off the headrest in front of her. So hard she hears a crack and the blood splatters down her front, making her even damper.
“Don’t fuckin’ lie to me, girly. I know exactly who ye are. If your ma wasn’t dead, ye wouldn’t have rushed over to the Bull’s Horn, now would ye? Ye would’ve taken me up as a prank caller or something. Now, where’s my money?”
Ava opens her eyes and splutters through the blood. Only now does she realise that she’s in her own car. She takes a side glance to the front passenger seat, but can’t find her phone. Maybe it’s on the floor? Or slid down the side? If she can get him to leave, she could find it and call for help. She has no idea where she is, but she doesn’t dare check her surroundings while that knife is millimetres from opening a wound in her neck.
“What money?”
She screams as he goes to grab her again. This time grabbing the back of her head and pulling her closer to him, until they’re inches from each other’s faces. His breath stinks of ale and his nose looks like it’s been broken more than once.
“You’re not stupid, girly. And neither am I. We know exactly what’s happening here, so unless ye want me to start taking fingers off, I’d play along nicely. Ye hear me?”
She sobs a while longer before nodding. He shoves her away with such force she bangs her already throbbing head off the window. Moaning and reaching around to massage it, she decides to have a quick glance out of the front window whilst her neck is free. It’s too dark and the rain is coming down in sheets. She has no idea where she is. She could be anywhere.
“Now, where is my money?”
“It’s in the charity’s bank account.”
“And how did ye get it?”
She goes quiet. She doesn’t want to get her mum in anymore trouble. She just stares at him with pleading eyes. Trying to think of a way out.
“Your ma gave ye it, didn’t she?”
“What have you done with her?”
“Didn’t she?”
The knife is back at her throat again. One fist clenched around her front, pulling her torso closer to him. She continues to cry before nodding sullenly.
“Which card is it?”
He lets go of her jacket and reaches into the front driver’s seat, bringing back her handbag she’d left in the car. She thinks against pretending that she doesn’t have the card, deciding cooperation is going to be the only way to keep her mother alive. She brings out the card from her purse and everything is snatched out of her shaking hands.
“Pin?”
She gulps.
“Pin?” Emmet spits, more aggressively now.
“0215.”
“The month and year your ma left you. How fitting,” he chuckles darkly, before taking the knife from her throat and stepping out of the car.
Slamming the door behind him and locking her in straight away, she immediately dives across the car and starts tearing around the passenger seat. Trying everything short of ripping holes in the fabric. Where is her phone? Her heart beats in her throat as she ignores the groans of her delicate fingers as they snag on bits of chair as she digs around underneath and either side.
A knock at the window makes her jump. Pushing her hair out of her face, she sees Emmet standing with his face pressed against the window, a smirk engulfing his features. In his free hand, he shakes something at her. Something she now realises, upon closer inspection, is her phone.
Chapter Seventy-Six:
He returns about a half hour later with a bundle of money. Clutching it in his greedy hands, he pockets it once he sees she’s noticed. There’s no way he could’ve taken everything in that account out of an ATM. There are limits.
“Just making sure ye gave me the right pin, girly.”
It’s like he read her mind.
“I’ll go about different ones and fish out the rest once I’m done with ye.”
Panic rises. Done with her?
“Now, unlock this phone.”
He brandishes her phone in front of her eyes.
“The pin ye gave me doesn’t work on the passcode. So either tell me or put your finger against it. Whatever stupid burglar-proof shit they have on ‘em these days.”
Doing as she’s told, Ava presses her thumb against the home button, her phone lighting up in front of her. She notices all the missed calls and messages. How long had she been locked in that boot?
“Now, what’s that big hunky boyfriend of yours called, eh?”
Her heart stops. What is he going to do?
“Why?” she manages, her voice a squeak, barely audible against the rage of the wind and rain outside.
“Because I’m sure ye don’t want me to find him and put him through a similar situation, now do ye?”
Ava bites her lip.
“Mark,” she sniffs.
“Mark…” He flicks through her phone, looking up to make sure she’s still how he left her every few seconds. “Here he is.”
He begins typing, although slow with the thumb of his left hand, his right still wrapped around the knife pressed against her throat. Several moments later, she hears the signature ‘beep’ that indicates a sent message, before he turns the machine off and pockets it.
“That ought to do it, now… With you,” he smirks again.
She begins to shake uncontrollably, her teeth clattering together.
“What have you done with my mum and Robyn?”
The knife probes deeper into her, making her gasp.
“Your ma and your aunt are somewhere safe. Don’t ye worry. I have ‘em right where I want 'em,” he twists the knife again, she feels a bead of blood slither its way down into her chest. “But you… On the other hand. Are a wee trouble maker. Ye were back then… And ye are now. So, how can we get rid of ye?”
His eyes shine.
“I can see the papers now. ‘Tragic suicidal daughter follows in her mother’s footsteps.’”
Ava begins to blubber. No!
“Has a nice ring to it, don’t ye think? A nice close on the chapter.”
“I’ll never do it, you’ll have to push me.”
A bizarre moment to think of her charity. Of her clients. All the people who came to her for help. She’d never let them down like that.
“Well… Ye are. I’ve noticed cameras are up there now. It’s not as simple as it once was. I can’t just drive ye up there myself anymore. My face will b
e everywhere. I’m not about that life. So, you’re going to get out of this car and climb that hill,” he nods behind him, his rancid teeth glistening in the light above the rear-view mirror. “Come out onto the bridge and jump. And if ye don’t? Or ye try to run for help? I’ll kill ye myself, only this time I won’t be letting your ma and your aunt go. Three in one night would be a record for me.”
“You’re mad!” Ava screams, ignoring the bite of the knife.
“Maybe,” he smirks again. “Now I know ye, Ava. You’re a smart, caring girly. Ye don’t want your ma to end up like my exes.”
“Your exes?”
She’s not sure she wants to know. He brings the knife away, turning the blunt side towards him so the smooth side is against her neck. In a slow motion, he brings it from one side to the other, one eyebrow raised. She starts crying again, the cold metal exposing her vulnerable neck. He’s killed before?
“If ye do this, I promise they will be safe. Your ma can come with me like nothing happened. And your aunt? Sure she’s away mad. No-one will believe a word she says even if she tries to tout. Will find herself locked up in Gransha as a worst-case scenario. So, girly. Are ye going to listen to every single word I say?”
Hesitantly, Ava nods, blinded by tears and the knowledge that she has no other choice.
****
Mark and Cathal laugh as they thank Jordy for the next round of pints.
“I can’t believe all this time she’s been telling the truth.”
Cathal nods as he sips the head of his beer.
“Of course. Nothing ever happened, nor was it going to.”
“In that case,” Mark pulls a face. “Who was sending her all those presents?”
Cathal raises his eyebrow.
“She didn’t tell you?”
“No, what?”
“She started getting gifts to her door. Started off with shoes. Then flowers. She started to get really freaked out. Said she believed it was Darrell Boyle, the politician. That he was threatening her or blackmailing her. I don’t know… It’s been a hard few weeks.”
Cathal nods again.
“She never told me any of this, Mark. It seems like she’s in a really dark place right now.”
Mark shrugs.
“I know… And I haven’t exactly been there for her,” he looks up from his pint towards Cathal. “She needed a friend… Thanks for being there.”
Cathal beams before reaching his hand out for Mark to shake for the fourth or fifth time. It’s cut short as Mark pulls his phone out from his back pocket after his message tone sounds. His eyes widen as he looks back at Cathal, swivelling the phone around so he can read the text.
‘cant do this anymre, mark. i lvoe you but. ur betr of wifot me. this is gdbye.’
Chapter Seventy-Seven:
Now, here she is. On top of the Foyle Bridge. Looking down into the swollen river, the water breaking its banks out onto the surrounding land, close to where Emmet parked. She had found it hard meandering her way up the hill in the dark and wind, but eventually made it. Knowing full well that Emmet’s eyes were glaring into her back.
She stands at the railings, one foot on the bottom, ready to climb over. Shaking furiously. Shocked that she’s doing this. She never thought she’d know how it felt to look down there and know that it’s the last sight she’ll see. Thinking it was the last thing her mother ever seen. Not wanting her clients to feel or see the same. What will people think of her? She can’t think of that, she has to focus all her attention on her mother… And the signal.
Emmet had told her what she needed to do. Climb to the top and wait for him to push her car into the water. After all, it is crawling with evidence. Her blood and DNA in the back seat and boot. His fingerprints on the wheel. He couldn’t risk that, could he? So whenever her car enters the river, so will she. He told her it had rained all day. Several rivers in the city have overflowed, with many floods even in residential areas. The emergency services are all busy. If her car is found in the river, it won’t be a surprise. Not tonight. The surprise will come when they find her body…
If they find her body, she thinks. Remembering the facts and figures Zoe had told her over the years. Of course she had thought about running away, but she can’t be selfish. She has to think of her mum. Of Robyn. Of Mark. Mark… Emmet had told her that he had sent him a message telling him she loved him, but she couldn’t do it anymore. The sick bastard even writing her own suicide note for her. But she has that small victory. He’ll have that to remember her by.
Lights catch her eye on the cityside and she squints down through the rain. Two beams of light hobble along the grass at a slow pace. Emmet must have the handbrake off and pushing it from behind. It jolts left and right a few more times, before breaking off into the water, which is so dark you can barely make the lights out anymore.
That’s the signal.
Taking a deep breath and praying to a God she’d long forgotten about, she begins to hoist herself up. When one leg is over and she’s clinging onto the barriers, she remembers Robyn’s story. Her made-up story, she now recollects. Of how Robyn found Ava’s mum in this exact position.
She closes her eyes and thinks of them both. And of Mark. She tries several times to relax her body, so she can just slide off, but she can’t bring herself to do it. She decides she’ll bring her other leg round and just jump.
But just as she’s swinging the leg around, she sees a car oncoming from the Waterside. She gasps. Should she jump now? Get it over and done with? Will they stop? Will they try and talk her down? Can she try and ask them for help? So many thoughts run through her mind before her brain recognises the car. It’s Mark. And right there, in his front seat, is her mother. Her tense body relaxes just as another strong wind comes. She fights to hold on but ends up slipping from the railings.
****
I scream, pushing the car door open and run over to the railings. My baby girl. No, this can’t be happening. This can’t be how it ends. When I reach the side of the bridge, I let out a huge sigh of relief, before calling the rest over. She’s still clinging on with one hand.
“It’s alright, Ave. It’s alright,” I bellow down to her.
She gazes up at me with huge scared eyes, reminding me of when she was just a child. Making me say something I thought I’d never say again.
“Mummy’s here. Mummy’s here.”
With the help of Mark and his friend, we battle the elements and struggle to bring her over the railings, each of us taking turns to embrace her once she’s back on our side. Robyn joining when she hobbles over. She’s soaking and has blood all over herself. What has she done? She hasn’t answered any of our messages since last night. I blame myself. This was all too much for her. It got the better of her.
Only when she’s safely in the backseat of Mark’s car does she indulge us on what’s been happening.
“You’re okay. You guys are okay. How did you escape?”
Robyn and I share concerned looks.
“Escape?”
“Emmet told me he’d captured you both. He texted me telling me to meet him in a bar if I wanted you guys to live. I got there and he knocked me out. I’ve been in my boot for… I don’t even know how long.”
She stares at us desperately,
“When was I at yours?” she glances at Mark’s dashboard, reading the time.
“Erm… You left at like five o’clock yesterday,” Robyn eyes her.
“Fuck!” Ava screams, kicking the chair in front of her. “That bastard had me locked in the boot for nearly 24 hours.”
When she opens her eyes and begins to calm down, she stares at Mark’s friend. As if she’s just registering his presence.
“Cathal, what are you doing here?”
Cathal and Mark now look at one another.
“We were out for a pint,” Mark smiles.
“What?” Ava burrows her brow, before shaking her head.
She must be delusional. Or has decided there’s more p
ressing matters.
“Why are you all here? How did you find me?”
“Well,” Mark grabs her hand. “When you sent that text, Cathal and I were in the Icon. We tried ringing you, but your phone went straight to voicemail. So I tried Robyn. She told me to come pick her and her friend up,” he nods towards me. “And that’s when we came onto the bridge. It was our first choice. Thank God we found you, what were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t thinking. I wasn’t doing it for me, Mark. You all have to believe me. He told me he wanted rid of me. That I was a troublemaker, apparently. He wanted me to kill myself so he could run off with you,” she nods towards me. “And if Robyn tried to tell anyone that no-one would believe her ‘cause she’s mad. Took the charity money and everything. He’s down there now. On the banking. He pushed my car into the water to get rid of the evidence and was waiting for me to jump.”
I shake my head furiously, a blinding rage coming over me. The boys look about them confused but both myself and Robyn are flared with raw emotion. I can’t believe it. And I don’t think twice. Despite their calls of protest and reluctance, I’m out of the car and running for the banking. Down to Emmet, but I don’t care. He can do whatever he wants to me but how dare he come for my daughter.
Chapter Seventy-Eight:
The rain has finally petered out by the time the remaining four get down to the bank. The normal walkway has flooded, so they squish around on the sodden grass, too afraid to shout Fiona’s name. Would he have left once he saw what was happening on the bridge? Ava isn’t so sure. What if he waited for her? Ambushed her? Took her God knows where? They could be halfway to their old life in Belfast, or new life somewhere else, by now.
Ava finds her mother down near where her car had been parked. They can see the tyre tracks from where the car was pushed into the river.
“Fee,” Robyn shouts carry across the wind.
In Too Deep Page 20