The fruit seemed almost too bright, the colours too perfect, given what they had witnessed.
It was annoying, that smear, spoiling my view, spoiling my happiness. But whoever knew that blood could gush and spurt so far? I licked my finger thoughtfully and leant across the sink to remove the offending stain, inhaling a lungful of bleach as I did so. Cleaning had been easy – I was used to it, and had got stuck in. I’d given myself twenty minutes to finish, and the tick-tock of the yellow alarm clock had driven me on. When I was done, the house was looking like a normal home, as opposed to somewhere social services would have been called to in an instant. That’s what I mean about taking time with appearances. People see what they want to see, and if you can help them along…
By the time the uniformed police officers arrived, I was sitting on the bottom step, teary-eyed and snotty. They fell for it, of course. It was the easiest thing to do. The alternative was to believe a thirteen-year-old was capable of murder. She always said I looked like butter wouldn’t melt, with my charm and wide-eyed stare – well, in this case blood didn’t stick either.
‘Oeddet ti’n gwybod, Ava Cole?’
‘Did you know, Ava Cole?’
‘Did it go well last night? I expect that boy of yours was pleased to see you?’ Mrs Birtley was sitting at her little mahogany reception desk in the pink hallway as Ava passed.
Ignoring her questions, Ava zipped up her jacket, smiled and pointed to her earbuds. Luckily, like several women of her generation in the village, Mrs Birtley was not familiar with the latest technology, and clearly assumed Ava couldn’t hear her. Ava was able to escape unscathed and un-interrogated into the icy air. Her friends all laughed at her fondness for country music, but alone on a run she could indulge unhindered. Thomas Rhett and Miranda Lambert filled her head as she warmed up.
The crisp beauty of the frosty hillside and the pain in her leg muscles as she ran up the steep, muddy inclines quickly drove everything else from her mind. Her lungs burned and her breath came in gasps. Despite the cold of the morning, she was soon wiping sweat from her face. The sky was spread above like a baby-blue sheet straight out of the wash, and even East Wood, down to her right, was cloaked in glittering, mystical beauty. The ugly, pebbledash houses of Aberdyth were given a sparkling makeover that turned the place into a fantasy wonderland. Forcing herself not to consider what lay beneath the frosty charade, Ava paused at the top of the hill, glancing at her watch. Twenty minutes for a 5km. Not bad, despite the jet lag and the hills.
Her phone vibrated, and she checked it out of habit. But it wasn’t her friends back home, her mom, or even her on-off boyfriend who she hadn’t checked in with yet.
‘Cofiwch fi’
‘Remember me’
‘Oh fuck off, Leo!’ she said out loud. She didn’t doubt it was him. When the messages had first started coming she had been shocked, even scared, thinking that the horrors of her past had finally caught up with her. There had been no question the messages were related to Ellen. Only seven people knew about the carved letters on the oak trunk. Only seven people in the entire world knew exactly how much it would rattle her to get a message like that. It was more than a shadow across the sunny beach – the darkness she kept locked away had started to seep into her carefully constructed life.
Safe on her icy hilltop she allowed her mind to drift back to the first message. That had been a hell of a night shift, starting with Paul’s email of course. Her regular partner, Pete, had noticed her lack of attention on their first shout.
* * *
Pete slammed the car door. ‘Coffee and doughnuts?’
‘Please. I’m going to stay out here for a bit. I just need some fresh air.’
‘Fresh air down here? You sick? If you aren’t feeling well, go home and sleep it off. You do realise you just ran a red light back there?’
‘I’m fine. Three doughnuts and black with two sugars please!’
She could tell he wasn’t fooled for an instant – with all the smog, fresh air in LA was a joke unless you were hiking in the hills. For a moment she was tempted to bail out and go home to an empty apartment. Darkness was sneaking in from the sea, the long black fingers of shadow triggering the familiar slash of neon lights slicing along the streets. Shouts and music mingled with the smell of fries and vomit and the hot air curled around her like a snake, oppressive and threatening.
As Pete shrugged and shambled off in search of food, Ava’s phone pinged again. She dragged it out, stared at the screen, and instinctively found her hand on her gun holster.
No name in the sender box, and just two words:
Cofiwch fi?
Remember me?
* * *
Coming back from the farm last night, she’d taken a long time to get to sleep. In the end, she’d downed a couple of glasses of duty-free whisky. There was no ice at the B&B unless you counted the frozen trough outside the front door, so she drank it straight, with a dash of water from the tap. The comforting smoothness of the alcohol had knocked her out for a good eight hours. So now what? She had three weeks’ leave to hang around Aberdyth, to get to know her son, and she supposed, to say goodbye to her ex-husband. To talk to Ellen’s parents… and what could she really do but offer comfort again? She could never tell the truth about Ellen’s death, but now she was an adult, it would be good to offer something more. Perhaps elaborate on Ellen’s reasons for going, and make it sound like she was definitely heading off on a big adventure. That would give them hope that their daughter was somewhere, living her best life. But it would also be cruel to give them false hope. How did you make something right, when it was all wrong?
From this height she could see all the way to Big Water. Her gaze sharpened as she spotted figures scurrying like ants at the water’s edge. The early sunlight caught flashes of metal or mirrors, and a few more trucks were pulling up next to a copse. Of course, that must be Leo’s film crew. He’d mentioned they were filming for Tough Love up there.
After a few more calf stretches, she jogged slowly back down to the Birtleys’, dodging a couple of flocks of sheep, seeing nobody else but a pair of hikers in the distance. She already missed the beach and her surfboard, the sweaty little gym where she did kickboxing a couple of times a week, and even her job. It was hell having to leave an open case, but her boss had been very understanding, and promised to keep her updated. Exercise always helped in times of stress. So here, with no gym, no sparring partners, and no icy waves, she would need to run off her emotions.
She had just jumped in the shower back at the B&B when her phone rang. Swearing, she leant out, across to the pink bath top and grabbed her mobile.
‘Hallo, Ava. I hope you slept well. It’s Penny… I just wondered if you’d like to come down to the pub later for some dinner?’ Her voice was eager and girlish, but that hint of sharpness still played at the edges of her lilt.
Shit. It was not what she wanted to do but – ‘Yes, Penny, that would be great. I… is Stephen around today?’
‘Okay. If you get there for about five, we can have a few glasses of wine, and a good chat before the boys arrive. Stephen and Bethan are staying at Kai’s house tonight, but they have promised to join us for a meal.’
‘Kai?’ queried Ava, trying unsuccessfully to reach the pink fluffy towel on the wash basin, whilst continuing her conversation.
‘Oh, I forgot you probably wouldn’t remember. He’s Jesse’s son. Of course, Jesse went off to stay with relations in Yorkshire after we left school, didn’t he, and stayed up there when his girlfriend got pregnant, so you probably never met Kelly. They came