Her White Lie Page 7

  Emily is standing in front of them, attempting to hide what’s going on. I know I’m drunk but I also know what’s going on. She’s buying drugs from someone. It wouldn’t be the first time and Tara is going to go mad because she warned her. And now the stupid bitch has called her dealer and they’re in our garden handing her a packet. I’m all into the ‘hear no evil, see no evil’ crap but if Larry finds out there are drugs being dealt here, we’ll lose the house and my dad will flip.

  ‘Tara, Tara.’ I pull at Tara’s shoulder, dragging her from the embrace and force her to look down the side of the house.

  ‘You’re going to have to do something about that,’ I say.

  ‘Shit,’ she replies, rushing over to Emily. ‘What the fuck are you doing?’ she says.

  The dealer walks away to the front of the house and out into a waiting car.

  ‘I’m sorry Tara. I… I needed something. I’ve been so… I promise this is the last time.’

  ‘Fucking sure it is,’ Tara says, walking away from Emily, muttering something. I feel sorry for Tara; she only puts up with the girl because she’s her cousin and now she’s at this crap.

  ‘Don’t think for one minute that you’re bringing that shit into the house,’ I say. Then I follow Tara into the kitchen.

  When I get inside, Andriu is listening to some guy who’s making everyone laugh by doing impersonations. He smiles over when he sees me and puts his arm out for me to join him. I dance my way over to his side and stumble into his body. Andriu is holding me close, but I pull away when I glance out the window and notice that the dealer friend of Emily’s is in the back garden. I thought he had gone off in the car that was parked out front, but no. He’s mooching around like he’s casing the place. Planning to rob us, maybe? But why is he so interested in the garden? Is he planning his escape route? I’d tell Andriu, only I don’t want any more trouble. The last party left us without a pane of glass in the front door when someone tried to gatecrash and Andriu grabbed him to throw him out. It was scary but it also made me feel safe that we have Andriu living here with us. This place is so isolated, anything could happen.

  I’m about to go outside and tell the imposter to leave but he turns and walks towards the side entrance. Andriu is calling me over the boisterous laughter that’s ringing in my ears but I keep my eyes on the dark shape, making sure he leaves. When I’m happy he’s gone, I move away from the window and back into the arms of the man I love. Not wanting to spoil the party for Andriu or Tara, I decide to wait until the morning to let them know what I saw. But I’m worried. What the hell has Emily brought into our lives?

  Chapter Eighteen

  Tara

  I’m actually believing my world has returned to normal when the body found at Huntley Lodge hits the number one spot on the news again. It’s all over social media. There are even pictures of the dead woman. Avril Ryan, aged thirty-five, was last seen alive on September 7th 2016. I move closer to inspect the photo. Avril looks happy, smiling. She has a big gap between her two front teeth. Her dark hair settles on the furry collar of her white jacket. Her eyes are hazel-green and she doesn’t seem to be wearing any make-up. Her skin is blotchy, probably from the cold. Avril looks like any other normal person. I graze my finger over her image and wonder, did she know she was in trouble when this photo was taken? Was she hiding something behind those big hazel-green eyes?

  Sitting with a cup of coffee and looking through whatever I can find about Avril Ryan on my computer is making me anxious because I know this is not just some news story I can close down, then move on to the next. This could ruin my life. The autopsy has confirmed what the evidence found at the scene was suggesting. The body of thirty-five-year-old Avril Ryan who went missing in September 2016 was found in suspicious circumstances. Which I’m pretty sure means murder. It says that the body was found in a disused pit at the bottom of the garden during recent renovations. The pit was ten foot deep with two big heavy steel doors covering it over.

  I remember that pit. The owner warned us it was there. Otherwise you’d never notice it. He said it was dangerous; we were advised to keep away from it. Which was easy to do because it was surrounded by brambles and twigs and impossible to get at. Or so I thought. But obviously I was wrong because someone got at it. But who?

  I stare at the screen. Huntley Lodge. It all seems so long ago. It’s only three years since I lived there and yet so much has changed. Mam is dead. I met Lucas. I’m moving to Australia. I’m no longer glued at the hip to Faye. I never could have imagined any of these things back then. I thought I knew what was coming down the line. Not that I thought about it often because back then I very much lived for the moment – the party at the weekend or the guy I fancied. But when I did think about the future I never considered the loss I would experience or the strength I would find buried deep inside me.

  * * *

  Faye hasn’t been in touch for a few days so I’m guessing that if the detective did get to talk to her, it mustn’t have alarmed her. Maybe they have an idea who killed that poor woman and left her to rot at the bottom of a pit. Her family must be devastated knowing she was lying there, all alone in the cold and the damp. A shiver runs through me when I think about it. Hopefully she was already dead before her body was put into that pit.

  The police have to know it’s possible she was killed somewhere else and just dumped in there… but not many people knew that pit was there. You would have to be told. But there were other people renting the house before we took it over. They would have known about the disused pit. And even though it was hidden below a lot of brambles, it is possible someone who partied at Huntley knew it was there. In fact, come to think of it, lots of people could know about it. Those detectives will have their work cut out for them.

  The pathologist must be finished with the body because the funeral went ahead today. It was sad to see it airing on the news on the salon TV. I was booked into Blush Beauty for a facial as part of the wedding day grooming package that my bridesmaids kindly gave me. It was presented to me at the bridal shower that Amy threw for me, amid a fanfare of cocktails and prosecco. That was a month ago, happier times. Before anyone discovered a body.

  With my face covered in cream, I listen to the choir singing in the background as the family follow the coffin out of the church. Hearing the voices reminds me of Mam and I feel painfully sad. Singing was Mam’s favourite hobby and the first victim of her illness. I remember her crying when she was told she should no longer sing in the choir. They were the heaviest tears she shed throughout the whole nightmare. I think it was the start of her realization that her life was being shut down bit by bit.

  The illness teased her. Mam never knew what would be next to go. There was no mercy as it slowly stripped her of her identity. Today you can walk, tomorrow you can’t. Today you can feed yourself but this time next month someone else will be holding that spoon and lifting it to your mouth. And as for using the toilet, I’ll take that too.

  I shake my head. I don’t want to go there. I don’t want to know how desperate it must have been for her. I like to remember my mother singing, laughing, making Halloween cookies. Dressing the Christmas tree, slagging my father off when he came home drunk on a Friday night. She was good at that, and he took it like any loving husband who was drunk should, by going to bed.

  * * *

  When I finish at the beautician’s I walk down the road to visit my dad. It’s only about a mile and the fresh air revives me. I need to forget about Avril Ryan and focus on what’s happening in my life. I’m getting married.

  Amy is going to pick me up when I give her a call. She wants to drop off some bottles at my apartment to kick off the hen party tomorrow night. Amy, Emily, Sonya and Emer are meeting at my place first so we can get a head start before meeting the others in Brogan’s Pub. Then, hopefully, all hell will break loose.

  Lucas is having his stag party tonight in some pub on the south side that I’m not familiar with. It’s near his office and they’r
e heading straight from work. He says he expects a good crowd will show up because it’s Friday and also because he’s using the occasion as his going away party too.

  Lucas is going to be in some state tomorrow. I’m not sure he knows what an Irish stag party entails. It’s a license for madness – the compulsive drinking, the pub crawls, the no-holds-barred nightclubs and… people have gone missing for days. Christ, I hope he’s safe. And that they don’t shave his head or his eyebrows or something. Thank God that’s not usually a risk with hen parties. They might be just as crazy but there’s no disrespect shown for eyebrows.

  Pulling my jacket tightly across my chest, I continue my journey towards my dad’s house and think about tomorrow night. It’s my hen party, for Christ’s sake. I can’t let this detective business ruin it. Everyone is so looking forward to it… and so am I. It’s the perfect opportunity to drag my mind away from Huntley Lodge and concentrate on my wedding.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The tall oak trees lining both sides of my father’s street are now completely bare. The golden leaves that had gathered in bundles by the side of the road last month are all gone. As a kid I used to love playing with those leaves. The council would gather them all up into bundles in the morning so they wouldn’t block the drains and as soon as school was over, we’d jump in them, scattering and kicking them in the air.

  The cold air is making its way under my coat. Winter is well and truly here. Thank God it’s dry. I look up at the blue sky dotted with white fluffy clouds and hope this is the kind of weather we’ll have next week. I never thought I’d be hoping it wouldn’t snow on my wedding day. A winter wedding had never entered my head when Faye and I imagined our big days. But back then I never thought I’d be marrying a man from Down Under whose job would determine the date. If Lucas didn’t have to be back in Australia next month we could have waited until the summer when the days would be longer, there’d be no need for heavy coats and the sun might even be shining.

  I continue to walk towards my father’s house. As I pass Mrs Sweeney’s house she waves at me from her front window. I wave back, drop my head and quicken my step. I don’t want her coming out and engaging me in conversation. She’s a nice old lady but she’ll ask loads of questions about the wedding and I don’t really have the time now. I must remember to call in to her before I leave for Australia.

  When I get to the gate of my family home, I push it open. I remind myself to make sure that the gate is fully open when I walk through it in my dress next week. I don’t want the beautiful lace getting nicked off that rusty handle.

  Dad opens the door as I walk up the pathway. His tall, straight, athletic body has buckled slightly over the years. He’s grown a beard over the past few months but he promised to shave it off before the wedding. It’s not that I don’t like it – I hate it.

  Dad smiles as I approach him and a rush of happiness flushes over my body. I’m going to be walking down this pathway next week holding a bouquet of flowers with my father by my side.

  ‘Hi Dad,’ I say.

  ‘Hi, Pet.’ Dad walks down the hallway in front of me and into the kitchen.

  ‘Have you been winning any chess games lately?’

  ‘No, I haven’t played much at all this year.’ He pushes a box out of my way when I enter the room. ‘I’m trying to clear things out to make room for next week,’ he says, moving over to lift some envelopes off the table which he hands to me.

  ‘These came in the post. I hope they’re full of money,’ he chuckles.

  ‘Lovely. Thanks.’ I take the cards and put them in my bag. I’ll open them later with Lucas. Or in the morning. I doubt Lucas will be in any state to open wedding presents tonight.

  ‘Did you get measured for your suit?’ I ask.

  ‘Yes, I did, we’ll all look great.’ He opens the fridge door and hands me a block of cheese that he says he picked up in Aldi. He must think we don’t eat. He’s always buying me food. It was the same when I lived at Huntley Lodge. Food would arrive out of nowhere. We regularly came home to fresh bread, cheeses, meats, biscuits, veg, tins of soup or boxes of cereal. There was never any question who had left it there because my dad was the only other person with a key. He didn’t use the words very often but I know it was his way of saying, you’re still my baby, I love you and will always take care of you. And now he won’t be able to do that. My heart sinks when I think of how much he will miss me. How will he take care of me from the other side of the world? When he sees something in the shop he thinks I might like, what will he do? Will he pick it up before he realises I’m not here anymore, then put it back on the shelf? I’m gutted with sadness when I think how lonely he will be.

  ‘You should try this, it’s lovely,’ he says, so I put the cheese in my bag too.

  ‘I’m going to miss all the treats, Dad,’ I say, looking into his eyes. For a moment we pause, looking at each other’s pain, knowing how much we will miss one another. Tears wet my eyes. I don’t want to cry, so I pull away from his stare.

  ‘Have you got your speech ready?’ I ask, sitting down on the nearest chair. It was hard to sit here when Mam first died. I could see her everywhere but over time it got easier. Dad owns the space now. He’s the one I see.

  ‘Ah, I tried, it’s hard… what do I say about your mother?’

  ‘Just say what you want to say, Dad, don’t make it hard on yourself. A few words.’

  He closes the door of the fridge and sits on the chair opposite me. ‘I’ll do it later.’

  ‘You know you don’t have to mention Mam if it’s going to upset you. I can get Lucas to do it.’

  My father moves his head back and looks at me like I said something illegal.

  ‘Sure, he never met her.’

  ‘I know but…’

  ‘No. I’ll be fine, I just never imagined she wouldn’t be with me on this day.’ Tears are beginning to twinkle in my father’s eyes, so I look away. I’m not good at that sort of stuff.

  ‘She often spoke about it, you know. Your wedding day. She always hoped you’d find someone who loved you dearly and who would let you be yourself.’

  ‘Dad, Mam will be there with us on the day.’ I’m trying to comfort him but I can see he’s getting more upset. He’s not normally like this and I can tell by the redness in his eyes that he must have been crying earlier too.

  ‘I tell her.’

  ‘Tell her what?’

  ‘I tell your Mam that you did find someone who loves you dearly. She should know.’

  Oh Christ, I really can’t handle this now. If he starts me crying, I won’t be able to stop. ‘I miss her too, Dad. I wish she was here on my wedding day. But I’m grateful I have you to walk me down the aisle.’

  My father stands up and walks over to the fridge again. He opens the door.

  ‘Did you try this yet?’ he says, taking out a packet of smoked salmon. ‘Take it. Lucas might like it.’

  I take the salmon and put it in my bag. I had planned to ask him if he saw the news about the woman whose body was found at Huntley Lodge. But I decide not to. He seems too sad for me to introduce dead bodies into the conversation. And I’m pretty sure he must have seen it, as it was all over the papers. He’s probably hoping I didn’t see it.

  ‘The suits are going to be lovely,’ he says, trying to perk himself up. ‘Is there anything you need me to do?’

  ‘Not that I can think of but if there is I’ll give you a shout. Other than that, it’s the church rehearsal on Thursday evening at six, followed by dinner in the Phoenix Bistro.’

  Dad rubs his hands together. ‘That all sounds great.’ Then he walks out of the kitchen. ‘The match is starting in a few minutes,’ he says, disappearing into the TV room.

  * * *

  Amy is outside the door within a few minutes of me texting her. She must have been waiting down the road. Her face is bursting with enthusiasm when I get into the car.

  ‘Only one more week to go,’ she says, squeezing her face with excitem
ent. ‘I have the bottles: vodka, gin, Bacardi, red wine, white wine, a bottle of Jägermeister, beers for the lightweights and, wait for it…’ She reaches over into the back seat with both her hands and lifts up the biggest bottle I’ve ever seen. It’s about two feet tall and it’s full of prosecco.

  ‘What do you think of that?’ she declares.

  ‘Where the hell did you get that?’

  ‘A policeman wouldn’t ask me that.’

  And there it is; the mere mention of the cops and I feel my nerves kick in. Luckily, Amy can’t see my face. She’s too busy looking at the bottle resting on her lap.

  ‘There’s enough there to get an army pissed. I thought it was just the four or five of us coming to my apartment first.’

  ‘Slight change of plan,’ she says, returning the bottle to the back seat. ‘Apparently they all want to come to your apartment, so I said yes.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Ah what the hell? Sure, you only get married once.’ She looks in her mirror before swerving out into the oncoming traffic. Someone beeps and I jump in the seat.

  ‘I don’t know why you bother with mirrors, Amy, you just drive out anyway.’

  ‘You’re okay, aren’t ya?’ she laughs, with a big grin on her face.

  The news that there’s going to be about fifteen girls instead of four at my apartment is good. Amy’s right. I’ll only get married once. Well, that’s the plan.

  ‘So they’re all coming?’

  ‘Yeah, we can get pissed. If it drags on we can skip Brogan’s and go straight to Coppers.’

  ‘Whatever, I’m easy.’

  ‘Great, I knew you wouldn’t mind.’

  We joke and laugh all the way to the apartment. Amy, as usual, pulls up outside the apartment block where she’s not supposed to.