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The Leaving Party: An absolutely gripping and addictive psychological thriller

Page 9

by Lesley Sanderson


  ‘I should have been here ages ago, but the bus broke down halfway and we had to wait ages for a replacement. I’ve been texting you,’ he added. ‘I wondered why you weren’t answering. Here.’ He held out the rose.

  ‘Thanks.’ It was wilting in the heat, the petals bruised.

  ‘Have some punch,’ Jon said. ‘That will make you feel better. He sloshed some into a plastic glass. ‘I’m Jon, by the way.’

  Gareth glared at him. Ava wished he hadn’t come. She’d been enjoying herself until then.

  ‘I’m Gareth, and I’d like to dance with my girlfriend.’

  Pathetic.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Ava said to Jon. ‘I’ll be back; just something I need to sort out in private.’ She hoped he could hear the words she wasn’t saying: Please don’t let this idiot stop you from being friendly.

  She could feel Gareth’s gaze drilling into her, giving her the momentum she needed to get it over with.

  ‘I need to talk to you,’ she said. ‘Let’s do this outside.’

  As they headed to the back door, Gareth paused to grab a bottle of beer from the counter. Ava felt the prick of the rose thorn in her hand. She hurled the flower across the grass as soon as she stepped outside.

  ‘Hey,’ he said. ‘I gave you that. It was meant to be special.’

  Her mouth was so dry it was hard for her to speak, but she had to tell him. She thought of Lena, and how she wasn’t afraid of anything. Me and you against the world, that was what they were always saying. Time to put it into practice; fake the bravery Lena showed. She lifted her chin and looked at his annoying collar, the way his hair hung over his eye, meaning she was never sure if he was looking at her or not.

  ‘I want us to be friends,’ she said.

  ‘We are friends.’

  ‘I mean just friends. I don’t want to go out with you any more.’

  Gareth’s face crumpled, and she felt swamped with guilt.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, cringing at the situation, then turned and ran back into the house to find Lena. Lena was right, she was always right. Ava didn’t need anybody else.

  Eighteen

  Ava

  Lena leaves the room with a determined look on her face, and I’m transported back to her teenage bedroom, the tiny box room with clothes covering the once-pink threadbare carpet. Her dad was yelling at her, and even though it was nothing to do with me, my heart was thumping with fear. My parents never shouted at me like that. Lena slammed the door and kicked the bedpost. ‘Asshole!’ she yelled at the top of her voice. I tried to put my hand on her shoulder, but she shoved it off as if my palm was on fire. I didn’t know how to calm her then and I am no wiser now.

  My priority is getting hold of Ben, just as soon as I’ve patched up my face. Mascara-streaked eyes look back at me from the mirror, but I’ve only got essentials in my wash bag and wish I’d packed more stuff. Murky foundation mixes with tears and mascara on the cotton wool, removing the external signs of misery from my face. My hands tremble, in contrast to earlier, when Lena applied my make-up with her capable touch. My hair is still in place, but my face is drawn – smiling at the mirror doesn’t work when my eyes are so anxious – and my high cheekbones make my face look sunken. Foundation and bronzer give me a bit of colour. Maybe it’s time to tell Ben the truth, bring everything out into the open. But that won’t make it go away. The thought leaves me feeling nauseous, and the bathroom lock takes ages to open with my fumbling fingers.

  I put my case on its side and unzip it. Everything is neatly packed, and I slide my hand underneath my night clothes and feel for the envelope that contains my travel documents. Looking at my one-way ticket to JFK makes the adventure ahead real. Just the thought cheers me up. My finger traces over my name on the ticket, and I’m about to put it back when fear jolts me, making my hand recoil. Where’s my passport? It should be in the envelope, but nothing slides out when I shake it.

  I let out a cry. For once I’m desperate to see the terrible photo where my fringe is cut too short and I’m scowling at the camera, taken during my first days at university when looking after myself wasn’t a priority until Lena turned up and took me in hand. Reaching under my clothes again, I feel around, but nothing has slipped out. I take everything out of the case and drop it on the floor, no longer mindful of my orderly packing. This can’t be happening.

  I’m on my knees, staring open-mouthed at the case, when the door opens and Steph sticks her head around it.

  ‘There you are. You’ve been gone for ages. I came to see if you were all right. Oh love,’ she says, when she sees the terror in my expression. ‘It’s all got too much for you, hasn’t it? I’ve been waiting for you to crack. You’ve been like a coiled spring lately, so tense, what with Pete and everything. It was bound to happen; you have to let it out some time. Downstairs just now, with Gareth, what was all that about?’

  I’m shaking my head at her words, which I can’t think about now, dislodging my hair from the elegant updo I so carefully set it in earlier. ‘My passport’s gone.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  I nod, picking up the envelope. ‘It was in here, I was just looking at my ticket, reminding myself that I really am going. My passport was in here, I’m sure it was.’

  ‘Let’s think. When did you last see it?’ She goes into the bathroom and gets me a glass of water. I sip it slowly and consider.

  ‘I checked in on my phone. That’s the last time I remember having it … Yes, I packed it when I was at Mum and Dad’s.’ My head is aching with everything that has been happening, hundreds of thoughts hammering at my brain, and I’m unable to recreate the scene in my mind. ‘I was in the kitchen, Mum was talking to me. I guess I was distracted. I could ring her.’

  ‘It’s bound to be there.’

  ‘I hope I’m doing the right thing,’ I say.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Going to live with Ben.’ The scar on my shoulder is burning, and I rub at it with my fingers. ‘It’s hard being apart. I can’t help wondering what he gets up to out there.’

  ‘Ava! He wouldn’t have asked you to move over there if he wasn’t sure. And why would he want anyone else? Look at you, you’re beautiful.’

  I give a rueful smile. ‘Sometimes lately my mind works overtime.’ The kiss with Gareth flashes into my mind. If it can happen to me, what’s to say Ben wouldn’t do the same? ‘But I’m sure you’re right, and once we’re living together, I’ll realise I’ve been imagining things.’

  ‘Of course you will. And if it doesn’t work out—’ She sees my stricken expression. ‘Don’t look at me like that. Nothing in life is certain, but whatever happens, we’ll all be here for you.’

  A burst of loud laughter interrupts us. Steph takes my hand and pulls me up.

  ‘Let’s go down and join in, see what’s so funny. It’s your party, Ava; all these people are here for you. Ignore those few idiots that you don’t want to see – you’ll never have to speak to them again after tonight. It’s a really good party. Lena has put a lot of work into organising it. Loads of people are dancing, badly. It’s worth seeing – might even cheer you up.’ She moves a strand of hair from my cheek. ‘Come on, let’s get drunk together; it’s the last chance we’ll have for ages.’

  ‘But what if I can’t find my passport? I can’t bear to even think about that.’

  ‘And you mustn’t. Promise me. Tomorrow you can worry about it all you like, though you won’t need to because it’s bound to be at your parents’. Tonight is hedonistic decadence from now on. OK?’ She grips my shoulders and looks at me with determined eyes.

  She’s right. I’ll forget about the passport for tonight, as well as my missing phone. And since I’ve no way of getting hold of Ben, I’ll just have to be patient and wait for him to get in touch. He will, I know he will. I rub my finger, imagining my ring shining there, and feel better just thinking about my precious secret.

  ‘You’re on. Let’s go and get a drink.’

&nbs
p; I check my face briefly in the mirror before following her down the stairs. Esther, my friend from the gym, emerges from the lounge.

  ‘Ava, there you are. Everyone’s been wondering where you’d got to.’ She gives me a hug. ‘Lovely party, thanks so much for inviting me. Lucky you, eh, gorgeous fellow, the Big Apple. Want to swap lives by any chance?’

  The doorbell goes. ‘I’ll get it,’ says Steph. ‘Be with you in a sec.’

  I’m relieved to see that neither Lena nor Gareth is in the kitchen.

  Esther peers into the punch bowl. ‘We’re running low – can’t have that.’

  She looks around the kitchen, spots a bottle of rum on the side and pours in a generous slug, topping it up with orange juice and lemonade.

  ‘Here you go,’ she says. She hands me a glass and touches hers against mine, rather too forcefully, as the liquid sloshes over the rim of the cup, leaving a red drop on my hand. I rub it away. ‘To you and your big adventure.’

  The punch leaves a fiery taste at the back of my mouth, making me cough.

  ‘Whoops, have I overdone it?’

  I can’t stop coughing, and I indicate to Esther that I’m going outside. In the garden, I breathe in deep lungfuls of air, welcoming a moment to myself. The bonfire is still going and one of Felix’s friends is standing beside it. I fancy talking to someone completely new who knows nothing about me, who doesn’t see the layers that cover me like a shroud, and I’m about to go over when a figure emerges in front of me. It’s Pete.

  ‘Don’t look so alarmed,’ he says, but he’s blocking my path and nobody else is around. An image flashes before me – me backed up against the wall, him close enough for me to see the silver flecks in his beard – and my throat tightens. Just like last time.

  Over his shoulder there is movement in the kitchen, and I hold my breath, hoping that more people will come outside, but whoever is in there moves over to the table; they’ll be making choices about what they fancy to eat, and I wish I had the choice not to be here with this man who I loathe and who has no right to be here. I feel a flash of anger at both Lena and Steph for letting this happen. Steph should have made sure Pete knew he wasn’t welcome tonight. But I know I’m being unfair. She’s been the one making me coffee and providing a sympathetic ear during my many shaky moments at work, when I’ve caught Pete looking at me from behind his office window, always watching.

  ‘Can we talk?’ He lights a cigarette and I take a discreet step backwards.

  I notice there are three people over by the tree, and the girls from the office are talking to Kate by the back door. Why can’t Pete be interested in any of them?

  ‘You didn’t bring your girlfriend?’ I ask, a redundant question, but I want to remind him he’s spoken for.

  ‘We split up months ago. I don’t see your fiancé either.’

  ‘He’s not here yet,’ I say, finishing my drink so I can get away from this hulking man in his too-tight shirt, whose aftershave reeks even out here in the garden with the bonfire blazing. The threesome under the tree are going into the house, and my pulse rises.

  ‘I’m getting another drink,’ I say, trying to sound strong. Lena would have no problem telling Pete where to go. I glance at the kitchen door, which looks so inviting, willing her to appear, but the same group of girls are there, Kate throwing her head back with laughter. She looks good fun and I wonder why she’s never been out to the pub with us. I avoid looking at Pete and take a step towards the house, but he puts his hand on my arm to stop me. I shake it off.

  ‘Leave me alone.’

  ‘Please, Ava,’ he says, pulling his hand back. ‘I just wanted to apologise for that little misunderstanding we had. You don’t have to leave; it’s a total overreaction. You’re an asset to the company. We can discuss your role, look at your salary, see what other perks are available.’

  Watching him standing there pleading with me, I see him for what he is. An insecure middle-aged man unable to admit what he’s done. The alcohol I’ve consumed fuels my bravado. I won’t let him spoil anything else in my life. Especially not my party.

  ‘You did me a favour, actually,’ I say. ‘You helped me make up my mind.’

  ‘Ava.’ Steph emerges from the back door and walks across the lawn. ‘I wondered where you were. More people have just arrived; a couple of friends from your old music club, I think.’

  I flash her a smile to convey that I’m grateful, and move towards her.

  ‘You OK?’ she asks as we walk back to the house. ‘I freaked out when I saw you stuck out there with him. How did that happen?’

  ‘I stepped outside for some fresh air, didn’t see him lurking. He tried to persuade me to stay at the charity. Unbelievable.’

  ‘No way. He’s such a creep. I hate him for driving you away. Why doesn’t he ever go anywhere with his girlfriend?’

  ‘They’re over, so he says.’

  ‘He shouldn’t be here. I’m sorry about the mix-up with the invite. I’ve spoken to Lena and we both feel terrible about it.’

  ‘Forget it, it’s done now.’

  ‘Exactly. Two days and you’ll be out of here.’

  The drone of an aeroplane overhead makes us both look up. I see the faraway dot of light in the sky and my heart thuds. What if I can’t find my passport? Without it, I won’t be going anywhere.

  Nineteen

  Lena

  Gareth is standing by the bonfire, staring into the flames.

  ‘Ava’s really upset,’ I say, my voice low. ‘Why did you bring the rose? Wasn’t leaving one on the doorstep earlier enough? What exactly are you trying to achieve?’

  His thick eyebrows knit together as he scratches his thatch of hair. ‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about. I brought one rose. It was meant to be a nice gesture. Ladies like flowers, don’t they?’

  ‘It wasn’t exactly beautiful. It had seen better days, you’ve got to admit.’

  He drinks from the bottle of beer he’s holding. ‘If I’d brought a bouquet, it would have been over the top. I can’t win, can I?’ He sighs. ‘If I’m honest, it was on the wall outside; I picked it up on the spur of the moment. Wish I hadn’t now. I didn’t realise it would turn out to be such a big deal.’

  ‘You found it outside. Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  ‘Did you see who left it there?’

  He shakes his head.

  ‘So you haven’t sent her black roses before?’

  The bemused look he throws me convinces me he’s telling the truth.

  ‘You really think I’m a weirdo, don’t you?’ he says.

  We both laugh, and the tension between us dissipates.

  ‘Ava told me what happened,’ I say, holding my hands out towards the fire to warm them. I keep my voice soft; I don’t want to alienate him. ‘She knows it shouldn’t have happened. You’ve got to understand that she’s with Ben now. She’s flying across the world to be with him.’ The words catch in my throat, the sentence strangled into a hiss.

  ‘Why did she kiss me, then?’

  ‘She’d had too much to drink, you know how it is.’

  His cheeks burn and I can’t help feeling sorry for him. ‘Why does she even bother staying in touch with me?’

  ‘Because she likes you as a friend, but if you keep pushing it, you will lose her. She’s really upset. Is that what you want?’

  ‘Of course not. Look, I won’t say anything to Ben. That was bravado talking in there. I hate seeing her upset, just like you do. We’re not so different, you and me.’

  ‘Oh yeah, how do you make that out?’

  ‘We both love her and don’t want her to go. Don’t pretend you’re not gutted too.’

  The wind gets up and the flames flicker wildly, spitting in my direction. I experience a rush of emotion as I contemplate everything and realise what is happening. The roses are driving Ava away; she is running from a past she can never escape. Gareth and I are both part of that past. Tomorrow Ava will be gone and s
he won’t have me to protect her any longer, to cover her secrets. I don’t want this night ever to end.

  I’m not in the mood for conversation when I wander back into the kitchen. The punch is darker in colour than it was, a murky brown now, and an empty rum bottle stands beside it. I grab a mug from the side and fill it. The potency hits me as I take a swig, and my head swirls. I drink some more. Laughter spills in from the garden, while I’m stuck in here feeling like a fool. Ava wants to get away from me. Her words cut into me like knives.

  Two women are standing in the doorway talking. The one with the sharp black bob turns and steps into the kitchen, her dark painted eyes fixed on me. My heart thuds against my chest.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ I ask in a whisper.

  ‘Chill, Lena. I couldn’t resist it. It’s a decent party.’ She helps herself to a cracker topped with a swirl of cheese and celery and bites into it. The crunching noise grates on my nerves.

  ‘You shouldn’t be here. Ava doesn’t know you and I want it to stay that way. This is her party.’

  ‘So what? You organised everything; why can’t you have some of your own friends here?’

  ‘You’re not my friend.’

  ‘Doesn’t matter. She works with my partner. Pete also invited me.’

  ‘You know Pete? How?’ The coincidence makes my head spin. Kate and Pete? It doesn’t make sense.

  She picks up another cracker. ‘Sure I do. Me and Pete go way back. Had a bit of a fling once upon a time. Can’t remember what I saw in him now, though.’

  She’s interrupted by the sound of the doorbell, and I breathe a sigh of relief and hurry out into the hall.

  Someone has left a glass of wine on the windowsill to the side of the front door. The wood of the door sticks and I pull hard. A woman is standing on the step with her back to me. Dyed red shoulder-length hair, expensive leather jacket and tailored jeans, standing tall in her high-heeled boots. Smart, vaguely familiar. She turns, and I see the flawless face I was looking at only last week in a magazine. Ava’s sister, Martha.

 

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