Remember Me Page 11

  The weather was changing. That glittering fairyland of frost and icicles was now dampened by huge grey clouds rolling in from the west. Ava shivered, stamping numb feet as the sunlight disappeared, leaving the valley gloomy and dank.

  The first contestant on the zip line was a blond boy, and he made a competent descent, followed by two girls, who were equally quick, their long hair fanning out behind them as they screamed their way down to the landing platform. The row boats were tied to the raft in the middle of Big Water, and after unclipping their harness, the contestants had to row halfway to the opposite bank, before reaching another platform, putting on wetsuits and swimming the final five hundred metres to the bank.

  Stephen, black hair tousled in the wind, was soon gaining on his competition, but Bethan was stuck at the top of the zip line, apparently scared to take her turn. The monitors next to them showed the girl, apparently gathering all her courage for the steep descent into Big Water. Finally, after coaxing and a few tears, she completed the challenge, hopping neatly into her rowboat, and speeding across the gloom to the next challenge.

  ‘She was faking that,’ Penny said suddenly. ‘I don’t think she was scared at all.’

  Ava grinned. ‘But she did know that all the cameras would be on her if she made a fuss. You know, I think she might be going to have a good career in the media…’

  Finally, with all the contestants safely down the zip line for the first time, Leo approached Ava. ‘What was it you wanted to see me about? Come on, we’ll grab some lunch… Unless you want to come over to my house tonight and I’ll cook you dinner?’

  She stamped frozen feet and frowned at him. ‘I’m not fussed about lunch, and I certainly don’t want to have dinner with you.’ She gave the crew a quick glance, but they were all out of earshot, jostling good-naturedly as they loaded up plates at the catering Portakabin.

  ‘Fine. What then?’ Leo’s eyes narrowed, and his other hand fidgeted with his phone.

  ‘The other night, after we had dinner at the pub – did you walk me back to the Birtleys’?’

  He laughed. ‘Are you embarrassed? You were a bit pissed, darling, but I was a total gent and escorted you back to the door.’

  His expression was so like the teasing, confident Leo of old, she fought an urge to hit him. ‘And then you went home? You didn’t come in at all?’

  ‘No! Come on, Ava, we might have had a little kiss for old times’ sake…’ He stopped, laughing again at her expression. ‘We didn’t, okay? I didn’t touch you, except to stop you falling headlong into the drainage pit by the side of the road.’

  Ava stared at him, anger rising again. She had been so sure… Of course, he could easily be lying. Never mind Bethan, Leo was also an excellent actor. She opened her mouth to ask him about the photos, but then closed it again. He would deny it and she would have to show him the pictures, making herself vulnerable. He would exclaim with horror, and she would kick him in the balls. Appealing though that was, she forced herself to stay calm, focused. The only way to handle this was by outwitting him.

  His expression softened to concern, and his voice was gentle. ‘Ava, why are you so bothered? Has something frightened you?’

  ‘What? Why would think that, Leo?’

  ‘You have that look. It’s the one I remember from when we dated, and you would say that everything was fine, but it actually wasn’t… I saw it a lot after Stephen was born, and you weren’t fine at all.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘So tell me.’

  Ava shook her head; she needed all her secrets safe, whilst she decided what to do. ‘It’s just the situation, you know, with Paul, and Stephen… plus I had an interview with Alex, the PI. He’s a smart man, Leo, and he’s pushing hard for answers. There are a lot of things that don’t make sense.’

  Someone was calling Leo from the office, waving a bit of paper. Leo paused, then turned quickly back to Ava. ‘I know you’re not telling me everything. Someone or something else is bothering you. You’ve got my number now, use it any time. Sorry, I’ve got to go…’

  ‘Leo, just one last thing?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Will you talk to the PI? About Ellen?’

  He smiled, but she could tell it was one of his camera-smiles that he slipped into with the ease of a professional performer. ‘Of course. I would like her parents to be at peace, and I would like them to leave Aberdyth.’ The words were as smooth as his expression, reminding her why he was so good at his job, why he had risen to fame in the first place. He was a game-player, risking the odds to take the prize.

  Ava watched as he ran swiftly towards the office, taking the paper, surrounded immediately by several others from his team. There were sharp questions, and someone was snapping orders into a phone. Far above East Wood, a drone circled, a speck in the clear air.

  Penny had wandered over. ‘Sorry, but we need to go now. I didn’t want to say in front of Paul, but I said to that PI I’d speak to him later, before I take Paul to his appointment. I don’t want Paul upset. You’ve been interviewed, haven’t you? What was he like?’

  ‘Nothing to worry about. He’s just about wrapped it up anyway. He told me that there was nothing new. Ellen is gone, and her parents need to accept it,’ Ava said. She reached out and touched Penny’s arm. ‘He seems like a nice bloke, and at least this way Jackie and Peter can get out of Aberdyth feeling like they’ve done their best for Ellen.’

  Penny sighed. ‘It just brings it all back, you know. I still wonder what she’d be like, what she’d have done with her life… I miss her so much.’

  Ava tried to smile. ‘I reckon she’d either be prime minister or in jail. Ellen Smith would never have settled for anything less.’

  Penny leant in for another hug, promising to call later, after she’d seen Alex. Paul, watching from the Land Rover, didn’t even wave. As they pulled away, sleet began to fall, drawing a curtain of ice across Big Water, and making the film crew curse at the lack of visibility. The drones were landed quickly on the bank and rushed to shelter.

  Ava stood, almost enjoying the change in the weather, the pain of icy bullets on her face, her hands bare and numb, running shoes soaking up the cold. Ellen was back again, a slender phantom called by her former best friends. If Ava strained her eyes, she could see her running down the hill, dark hair flying. Then the image was gone, as the wind gusted the sleet into whirling eddies, and Ava was left alone in the storm.

  ‘I miss her so much.’

  Chapter 14

  I had to use every skill I’ve ever learned to pull that off. But I’ve got her. One last time, so it is right, I suppose, that this should be the most testing game I’ve ever played.

  It’s been difficult in the past, but never quite like this. My blood is burning through my veins, my heart thudding so hard and fast that it beats not only in my chest, but also in my head. I’ve never felt so alive. Or so in control.

  Her hair is long and silky, and her face is softened by sleep. An artificial sleep. I almost had to change my plans at the last minute, but as usual fate stepped in to lend a hand and helped me push that blonde bitch off the hill. The support crews, and the idiots wielding cameras effectively looked the other way whilst I completed my work. She fell with a scream and a satisfying crunch, and the medics were soon crawling over her like orange-suited locusts. Even better, she never saw me, so she’ll tell everyone that she was pushed by one of her competitors.

  It was then that I snagged my player, drawing her in with the care and skill of a fisherman reeling in his catch. She was pleased to see me, never suspecting that I might be a danger. It was right at the very last minute that I had trouble. She spotted the needle and started to struggle. But once I jabbed through her pale skin, the drug acted very quickly, and she slumped over the rocks. I don’t usually use needles, but this needed to be very quick, and there was a chance she would have decided to abide by the rules of her own stupid game, and not take anything else I offered her.

  Ava has
deleted her social media profiles. I didn’t expect that. I thought she might go down the proper channels and we could play some more. I could bring them up again of course, and I may do that tomorrow, but in the meantime, I have more photographs to take. I strip the girl off, quickly and methodically, folding her clothes neatly in a corner. I’ve had this place prepared for a few weeks now, and the only thing that bothers me is the weather. It really is unseasonably cold, and I’d hate her to die before I’m ready.

  She photographs well, and I move the lights around a bit, taking twenty or thirty quick shots. I’ll edit them later, before I start to distribute them. Perhaps I’ll wait a little longer, stringing it out so that my opponent’s nerves are raw and stretched.

  I suppose many people would expect me to be weak after what happened to me, but instead I have an inner resilience that I have earned. When I was younger, my mum would whine on about me not being strong enough, tall enough, working hard enough. But I am, and I never play with opponents who might beat me. Always know your own strengths.

  That was another one of Mum’s pathetic sayings. Shame the bitch didn’t act on her own advice. But then, thinking back, I really don’t think she had any strengths. Is it possible to be born as prey or predator?

  In the beginning I was prey, but I soon learned to how to become the predator. Nature versus nurture maybe…

  The girl stirs a little, and one arm twitches, but I know from the dosage I gave her that she has at least four hours until consciousness returns. Even then she will be dizzy, struggling, and that is when I will break her. I shouldn’t really, there are a good few squares on the board before I need her again, but oh, I’ve missed this feeling. If the pictures are any good I might make some money out of her too, instead of just laying a trail for Ava to follow.

  Today will be fun, pitting my wits against various players, including a rather late and unexpected entry from that stupid private investigator. What are Ellen’s parents thinking? You can’t just neatly tie up every loose end before you escape from the valleys, even if one of those frayed and trailing ends is your own daughter. The Smiths’ candlelit ceremony ten years after Ellen went missing, attended by most of the village and a local reporter, was highly amusing. I was there with the others, looking sad and solemn, and Ellen was lying in her cold bed just down the hill. If I could have, I would have wet myself laughing.

  He rang the house last night again, and I apologised for having to go out. I know Ava has spoken to him. I don’t really need another player, but if he’s any good it will add an extra buzz to my game. Of course, if he’s too good, I’ll have to kill him as well. That’s how people are to me. If they don’t feature in my games, and I don’t want to fuck them or kill them, they don’t exist. But this man seems to have pushed in. An illegal start, you might say.

  The girl at my feet stirs again, flexing a bare shoulder. Mildly exciting, but nothing like seeing Ava naked. Before I leave, I unpack the supplies, and kneel to run a gentle finger across the bare skin, before licking my fingertip thoughtfully. No, she is an imposter – she tastes of nothing.

  The dice are in my pocket, and on impulse I roll them across the rocky floor. They spin and dance in a stray patch of lighter shadow, before settling in the darkness, near the wall. I will leave her a torch, and take the big light with me. I want her terrified, disorientated and controllable. Squinting, I see a two and a six.

  ‘Chwaraewch gyda fi heddiw, Ava Cole?’

  ‘Play with me today, Ava Cole?’

  Chapter 15

  Feeling like a loser, Ava ate a pre-packed salad from the local store, alone in her room, half-wishing she had accepted Penny’s dinner invitation. The claustrophobic, sickly scented B&B was already starting to annoy her. She slept surprisingly well, despite staying fully clothed, clutching an empty bottle, and the cat, which had appeared again that evening.

  Her mom called to check she was okay, and to see how she was getting on with her son. Ava explained that she wouldn’t see him for a fortnight now, because of the show. She could sense the disappointment, and it mirrored her own. As she’d sat on the plane from LAX, killing time by catching up with her work report, she had allowed herself to daydream a little about her son. In her imagination she had hoped they would talk things through, that perhaps she would have been able to make him see how much she regretted leaving him. But now he was locked in a camp on the hills, with a camera crew filming his every move.

  Returning from her morning run, with much better spirits after a night without disturbances, she thundered quickly up the stairs. The hallway was deserted, but Ava stopped dead at her door. Her heart, already pounding after the run, was beating like she was in the final stages of a marathon, and she pressed a shaking hand to the wall to steady herself. What the hell was going on? Hanging from the round wooden door handle was a hair band. It was small, and easily missed, but surely she would have noticed if it was there earlier. The nausea and dizziness from yesterday returned with a vengeance.

  She caught her breath, the dried sweat from her run itching her face and hairline. As before the hand that reached for the object was shaky, her fingertips scraping the door handle as she slid it off, and into her palm.

  It was Ellen’s. Even without the friendship bracelet from yesterday, she would have known. It was slightly grubby, a silver elastic with two neon pink beads. Ellen had been just as sporty as Ava, but she always had a cute girly edge that her best friend lacked. Ellen’s shorts would be pink, Ava’s black. Both girls had long hair, but whilst Ava’s would be a loose shaggy mane, or pulled back into a careless knot, Ellen would spend hours experimenting with the latest styles. Once, to her parents’ horror, she had stolen a packet of hair dye from the local Co-o, and turned her locks bright red.

  Someone was messing with her head. Leo had been so adamant, but it was hard to tell when he was lying – always had been. Surely Paul wouldn’t be able to wind her up like this? He seemed fine one minute, hardly able to walk the next, but she supposed he could be exaggerating his condition… Really? Hardly able to believe the direction her thoughts were taking, Ava frowned down the still empty hallway. Rhodri, the troublemaker, was more than capable, but again to what end? Perhaps they were all in on it, she thought again, ganging up to warn her off. Perhaps Penny’s friendliness was all air and froth. Ava pocketed the hair band, and reluctantly headed back downstairs.

  ‘Is everything all right, Ava?’ Mr Birtley trotted in from the lounge, clutching a large mug of tea. His sludge green eyes, round puffy cheeks and flabby lips gave him an anxious, frog-like appearance. ‘I’m afraid Mrs Birtley isn’t here at the moment, but I can get you anything you need.’

  Ava studied him for a moment. As children, they had always considered him a little odd, with his stutter and his stooped gait. The police had interviewed him as a suspect when Ellen disappeared, and the village had swooped on his oddities as proof of possible guilt. Ava liked to think that even if she hadn’t known the truth, that she would never have entertained the thought that Mr Birtley was in any way responsible, and she and Penny had felt guilty his name was dragged through the mud. She smiled now. ‘Actually, I was just wondering… has anyone visited whilst I’ve been staying here? Maybe this morning after I went out for a run, or late in the evenings at all?’

  His murky eyes widened, and his tongue flicked out to moisten cracked lips. ‘No. Well, only that Mr Jennington. Did you mean someone looking for you?’

  ‘I mean anyone at all. Anyone local who might have popped in for a cup of tea, or deliveries maybe?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’ He pottered behind the desk and produced a calendar decorated with flowers and hearts. ‘If you don’t mind waiting, I can just check for you. Is everything all right?’ His voice was querulous and his hands on the calendar shook.

  Ava remembered from her childhood that Mr Birtley was terrified of his wife, and life in general. It wouldn’t do any harm to shake him a bit and see what happened. ‘I think someone may have left some
thing in my room.’

  ‘Well, Mrs Birtley would have gone in to run the Hoover round a bit and…’

  Ava watched him and said mildly, ‘I did say that wouldn’t be necessary. Certainly not every day. Have any of the neighbours called in?’

  His eyes were darting now. ‘No… the delivery man came with a package, oh and the lady from wholesale dropped some bakery products off yesterday afternoon. Sylvia popped over for a cup of tea the day before you came… Penny came up to drop off some of her new business cards. Oh, Rhodri from the garage came up to lend us a history book. That’s it, I’m afraid. What… what was it that was left in your room?’

  ‘Thank you. I had no idea Rhodri was into history. Please do feel free to let Mrs Birtley know of my concerns,’ Ava told him, ignoring his question.

  He persisted. ‘Yes, Rhodri said his dad left him quite a collection from car boot sales, and some of the books are quite valuable. They are mostly Welsh history, and Mrs Birtley loves all that kind of thing.’ He smiled fondly, before returning to his usual anxious expression. ‘Silly lad will probably spend any money he gets on drugs. Was… was anything taken from your room? Because if so…’

  ‘Nothing was taken, but something has been left,’ Ava told him.

  ‘Oh… oh dear. Well, best ask Mrs Birtley when she gets back, Ava, because I really don’t think I can help…’

  She left him dithering in the rose-scented hallway, his pale face a picture of unease. It was enough. Enough to know that, although guests might be thin on the ground, the B&B had various legitimate visitors on a daily basis. It would be hard for someone local to get in without a grilling from the lady of the house, but not impossible.

  Struck by one last thought, Ava called back down the hallway. ‘Mr Birtley?’

  He was still there, still teetering between the comfort of the lounge and the emptiness of the kitchen. ‘Yes, Ava?’

  ‘Does Mrs Birtley have a time when she goes out every day? When she goes shopping or visiting?’