Remember Me Read online

  A few framed photographs showed the happy family over the years, and a larger picture in a silver frame was Paul and Penny on their wedding day. Ava squinted at the other pictures, recognising some she had been sent when her son was younger.

  The silence was back, and Paul clearly felt enough had been said. He stroked the dogs, and watched her, anger back in check. She searched for another subject, but everything she thought of had the potential to inflame the situation or hark back to their shared but unwelcome past. Ava coughed and complimented them on the new slate in the hallway.

  Paul said nothing, and Penny just smiled again, still folding the washing quickly and neatly. Just as Ava felt she might scream at the awkwardness of the situation, someone hammered on the front door.

  ‘Are you expecting company tonight?’ Penny raised her eyebrows at her husband.

  He shook his head, without moving his eyes from Ava’s face. ‘Unless Stephen’s lost his key again.’

  Oh shit. Ava’s heart started pounding, and she rubbed sweaty palms together. Her neck prickled and she felt light-headed. Suddenly the cosy, tidy room seemed far too hot. She heard Penny greeting someone, and then the outside door banged shut and the room was full of people.

  ‘Hallo, mate, evening, Penny darling, you look gorgeous. Why are you all dressed up? Look who I found down the pub! I know you mentioned Ava was coming tonight, so I’d thought we’d all pop back and say hallo.’ Leo was grinning at his friend. ‘Ava. Nice to see you again.’

  But Ava wasn’t looking at either her ex-husband or her ex-boyfriend. She was staring at her son.

  He was scowling, the blue eyes very like her own, but his features, and the dark messy hair were all his father’s. Of course she knew what he looked like, but to have him in front of her after all these years in the flesh… she could hardly keep herself from crying out. All the emotions she had locked away were bubbling and boiling in her chest, and despite her good intentions she felt a tear trickle down one cheek.

  ‘You look… well,’ she managed, made stupid by the occasion. She cleared her throat, forcing herself to meet that scornful gaze.

  ‘No thanks to you.’ His voice was flat and sullen.

  ‘You’re actually his mum?’

  Ava had hardly registered that Stephen had a girl with him, but now she turned to face her. Thin, black-haired, with unusual grey-green eyes and high cheekbones, she was also staring at Ava.

  ‘She’s not my mum, Bethan, I told you.’

  The girl frowned at him, pursing her rosebud lips. She really was very pretty. Next to them both, Leo smiled, his face alight with mischief. The bastard.

  Penny came back in with a tray of tea and a couple of bottles of beer. ‘Help yourselves to drinks. Stephen, do you want to talk to Ava in the kitchen where it’s a bit quieter?’

  ‘I suppose.’

  ‘Paul and I will have a catch-up in here. See you in a bit, Ava,’ Leo said, winking at his friend.

  Ava noted Paul’s sudden malicious grin, and even in her confusion, equated it to the kind of look the boys used to exchange before they got up to some mischief at school. She pushed it aside and concentrated on her son, following him across the hall, noting his slender height, the square set of his shoulders. No longer a child, but a teenager who had finished school. He was taller than she was.

  The kitchen was a warm cavern, with the same stone flags as the rest of the house, and arching oak beams meeting high in the roof. Ava stood, one hand braced on the table, waiting until Stephen stood facing her. His girlfriend (Bethan, was it?) sat carefully on a chair, her feet tucked up under her, long dark hair grazing the table top. She looked vaguely familiar, but Ava couldn’t think why. It was the unusual eyes, and the mannerisms…

  ‘All I ever wanted to ask you, was how you could just fuck off and leave me?’ Stephen spat at her suddenly, his eyes blazing. ‘I mean, I know it seems a bit sad, but it’s all I want to know. When you’ve told me, you can piss off back to Los bloody Angeles.’

  ‘Stephen!’ Bethan said, reaching slender white fingers to touch his arm, but he waved her quiet protest away with a shaking hand.

  Ava found she had to take a long breath before she could speak. ‘I can’t explain how it was, and I’m not making excuses, but I wasn’t much older than you are now. Suddenly I had a baby, and I was married, and all I could think of was that I couldn’t do any of it. I was failing at the most basic level. It became obvious that I needed to get out or I was going to have some kind of breakdown. I thought… I thought if that happened they would take you away and say I wasn’t fit to have a child. That’s how confused I was.’

  ‘Your best friend ran away, didn’t she?’ Bethan put in, chewing a thumbnail thoughtfully. ‘My dad told me about it. That must have been horrible. I said to Stephen it was no wonder you lost it a bit later. Anyone would, if something like that happened, and then they had a baby to look after as well.’

  Ouch. Ava met her wide, innocent gaze, blocking any attempts to go down that beaten track. ‘She did go, yes. I missed her terribly, and still do. But that was before I was married, and I’m not giving you any excuses for what I did. I’m not saying anything I did was right, and I do know it is useless to say sorry now. I’m just trying to explain why I did it.’

  Stephen’s expression was still stony, and his hands were now clenched on the edge of the table, knuckles whitening. ‘You never got back in touch. All these years. You know, I used to pretend Penny was my mum, until some bloody kid at school told everyone I’d been left by my real mum. How do you think that felt?’

  Struggling to control her hammering heart, taking comfort in the fact that at least he was listening to her, Ava chose her words carefully. ‘When I reached the States, I went back to my parents and at that point I did have a breakdown. Bethan is right, but I’ll say again, I’m not here to make excuses, just give you facts. The breakdown was attributed in part to the trauma of Ellen’s running away, but also to having PND. That’s—’

  ‘I know what that fucking is. Dad told me that was what was wrong with you. He’s been good to you. He never slagged you off in front of me. Penny didn’t either. The way they went on about you, it’s like you never did anything wrong. Even Uncle Leo went on about you being this detective in Los Angeles and working on big cases.’

  Uncle Leo. ‘Stephen, your dad and I decided it was best that you made your own choice whether to see me, when you reached adulthood. I understand that you haven’t wanted to get in contact, I really do, but please believe me when I say that I always wanted to be part of your life when I recovered.’ She wanted to scream that Paul had given her no choice, but she forced the pain away. It would do no good to tell him the whole truth now, not when his eyes were dark with anger, and Paul was sitting in the next room.

  ‘You left me as a baby. What sort of mum does that to her kid?’

  Ava met his gaze, willing herself to keep her voice calm and steady. Now was probably not the best time to tell him about the money she had saved for him. Everything she had earned, since she worked the bar at college, she had taken a piece out for her son. Over the years it had built into a very nice sum of money, that could be used for university, for travel, for setting up his own business… but now the time had come, and she was suddenly terribly afraid he would see it as blood money, a substitute for love and all that she was capable of.

  ‘My dad always said you tried your best, you know, being pregnant so young.’ Bethan broke the silence, sliding her hand across and stroking Stephen’s arm again. She had very long, slender fingers, and dark red glossy nails.

  With an effort, Ava dragged her gaze away from her son, and back to the girl. ‘Sorry, Bethan, but do I know your dad?’

  Stephen rolled his eyes, dragged a packet of cigarettes from his pocket, lit one and passed another to his girlfriend.

  Bethan smiled. ‘You were at school with my dad. His name is Huw Davis. We live down the road. Do you remember him?’

  Huw’s girlfriend ha
d been pregnant the same time as Ava, but she had lived in Cadrington with her family, so they had limited contact. She remembered Huw boasting about his daughter, showing pictures on his phone of a tiny scrap, topped with a mop of black hair. Ava’s mouth was dry, and a headache throbbing behind her eyes. ‘I do… yes. Does he still live in Aberdyth then? I thought he went to live in Cadrington with your mother. I assumed everyone else had left too.’ Christ, this was getting worse by the minute. Nobody stayed in the valleys if they could help it, but it seemed that everyone she really didn’t want to ever see again was back here, waiting for her return. Ava remembered Paul comparing her with Catrin, Bethan’s mother, asking why Ava couldn’t cope as well as Huw’s girlfriend…

  ‘Yeah, I know.’ Bethan lit her own cigarette and blew smoke across the table, her beautiful eyes narrowing. ‘My mum left us, but he got a new girlfriend so he’s happy enough. My brother’s at uni in Glamorgan, well, he’s really my half-brother, and I’ve got twin sisters who are six months old. Well, I suppose they’re like half-sisters too, but Dad says he’ll never marry Isabell.’ Her chatter was strangely engaging, and she smiled at Ava, pleased at her reaction.

  All these people, all these names that spun into a tangled web behind her eyes. It seemed ridiculous that she hadn’t imagined the children would meet. But Huw’s daughter, and her son… Ava pressed a hand to her forehead, just for a moment.

  ‘Everything all right? Ava, did you want a beer?’ Penny appeared at the doorway.

  ‘No, I’m fine thanks,’ Ava told her, swallowing hard. She really hoped she wasn’t going to vomit right here in Penny’s sparkling kitchen.

  ‘We’re going out,’ Stephen said suddenly. ‘Kai’s having a party at his place.’

  Penny was frowning at the cigarettes, and Ava sensed that had she not been there, her son and his girlfriend would have got a bollocking.

  The teenagers slammed out of the house – Bethan smiling slightly apologetically, drifting along behind her boyfriend, and Stephen ignoring everyone. Ava made her own excuses.

  ‘Sorry, Penny, I should probably go too. I hope I haven’t made things worse, but at least he’s heard it from me now,’ she said carefully. A proper talk would have to come later, when there weren’t so many people around. How was she going to give him the money? It had seemed like such a good idea, but now, faced with his anger… Certainly she could never tell her son about Paul’s threats to expose Ellen’s death because she would have to tell him the whole story. What a fucking mess, and how was she, the icy, rigidly controlled workaholic, getting into such an emotional flap?

  ‘You’re going so soon? Don’t you want to have a proper chat with the boys?’ Penny asked, her face unreadable.

  The boys. ‘No, I really must go. Jetlag catching up with me, I think.’

  ‘Well, all right. Why don’t you give me your phone number and we can arrange that catch-up? I never… well, Paul always said it was best we didn’t contact you, so he never would give me your number, otherwise I might have tried to get back in contact sooner. But you knew where I was, didn’t you? I suppose if you had wanted to speak to me, you would have called. But that’s in the past, I’ve got so much to tell you now.’ Penny’s glass-green eyes were hopeful, but the smile was back to being a little sharp, her fingers nervously twisting her ponytail into little curls.

  ‘Yes. Great idea, and thank you for… you know,’ Ava snatched her phone out of her pocket, swapped details with Penny, and headed for the door. Again, could she tell Penny that part of her deal with Paul was never to contact Penny either? She could still remember his exact words. ‘You fucked up, so make your own life and stay away from all of us. I’ll give Stephen the choice when he’s old enough, but don’t expect miracles. That part of your life is over now, so piss off and waste someone else’s time.’

  Paul was calling for his wife now, asking for another drink, and she smiled apologetically at Ava before answering him, and disappearing into the living room.

  Alone in the hall, Ava wanted to make a quick getaway. As she grabbed her coat the door swung open and Leo smiled out at her. His eyes had that familiar glitter of annoyance, and his mouth was stiff. ‘Aren’t you coming in to talk to us now, Ava? Paul’s just having some more painkillers. He’ll be fine after a few minutes. We need to catch up, and fifteen years is a long time. I suppose we could always play a quick game of “Spin the Bottle” to make you feel right at home.’

  ‘Funny, aren’t you?’ Darting a quick glance towards the kitchen, she lowered her voice. ‘Why would I want to come and have a little chat? Oh, yes, so you and Paul can take it in turns to try and wind me up. I don’t think so, Leo. Grow up, the both of you.’

  His expression changed and the naughtiness was back. ‘That’s a bit harsh. I thought we might talk about old times. I’m proud of how you turned your life around, but out of everyone, only you and me managed to get away. It proves something, doesn’t it?’

  ‘It doesn’t prove anything. Fuck off, Leo.’

  Ignoring her warning, he was coming closer. So close that she took a step back and came up hard against the wall. His breath was warm on her cheek, and she could smell the sourness of alcohol. One hand slid around her waist. ‘I missed you, Ava.’

  Horrified, Ava shoved him away and hissed back, ‘And I think you must have turned stupid in your old age. Either that, or you really are still a sick bastard. Just fuck off and keep away from me, Leo!’

  Leo shrugged, accepting her words, still amused, still smiling and swaying slightly from the drink. It was always like that. She argued, threw insults, and he stayed serene and got what he wanted. Well, not this time. Ava pulled on her coat, shouted goodbye and swung the iron latch on the front door. The icy air blasted in, and the darkness hid everything but her first few steps. She strode carelessly down the slippery path, sure-footed from instinct as fury drove her back out onto the hills.

  Before she was quite out of earshot, his words floated after her. ‘Be careful on the hill tonight, Ava, and remember to go left at the lambing pen…’

  Chapter 5

  Don’t get me wrong, I like the kid. He’s got guts, and that stubborn streak I admire. Of course, he’s also got a look of Ava, which helps. He does his thing, and I do mine. Outwardly it seems like I’m doing a whole lot more, but I think I’ve mentioned that I’m pretty clever. I know how people tick, what they admire, and how nobody really looks that deep if they have something else to focus on.

  He’s just another piece on the game board. It wouldn’t bother me if he had to be sacrificed at the roll of a dice. Honestly, it wouldn’t.

  Tonight I was up late, planning my moves, irritated to see the clock ticking onwards, killing my peace. I like the blackness of night. It excites me. Often I wonder if it is light or dark that you see when your time comes.

  There are photographs up on my computer screen. This particular girl looks beautiful, and I’m sure she’ll remember that night for the rest of her life. She has no idea the magic I worked later on, and the horrors I added. I imagine she’ll never see the finished product, which in a way is a shame. I’ve turned something sick and twisted into an art form, simply by being cleverer than them all. Hollywood would welcome me with open arms if I let people know what I could do. But those people will never see that side of me.

  A notification pops up on the screen, and I click to see more Instagram followers. My social media is perfection, so glossy and sexy, and fake. It’s a distracting game to play, and out here in the harsh daylight people are easy to fool. Or perhaps not? Is it all a double bluff? The thought makes me sigh with pleasure.

  How have I waited so long for Ava? I’ve been planning. It keeps me sane, and I did have one little leap across the board. I was right about Fate, and he stepped in, in a totally unexpected but totally deserving way. I landed right on the edge of a black square. The memory of his useless screams comfort me during the long hours of daylight. I watched him frantically trying to regain control, using everything he
had to survive. But it was impossible, the odds were stacked against him, and when it was over I went to check, inhaling the luscious smells of blood and terror. I could almost taste it, but I couldn’t linger long.

  The road was lonely, but fuel spilling from his bike into the dry summer grass might cause a fire. Not that it mattered because he was gone, but I needed to be at home, waiting to hear the news. It was an accident, the diesel in the road that caused the bike to skid could have come from any tractor, any delivery lorry… or from a can in the back of my Land Rover.

  I didn’t enjoy that move, but when fate presents an opportunity I’d be a fool to turn it down. Still, it was never part of the game plan. My first ever kill was the same. It was rushed, and although better planned, I made mistakes. Naturally, at thirteen years old, I was a beginner, but everyone has to start somewhere. With the darkness still complete, my mind wanders back to that day…

  I knew that morning before school that she had to die. It just came to me in a rush as I helped her wash and dress, chucked her shitty knickers in the bin, and made us both some breakfast. She mumbled something incoherent, and when the doctor telephoned to check on us, I was careful to say she seemed a bit better and had taken her tablets. I mentioned that I was going out with a friend after school so I wouldn’t be back until about four. There was nobody else in the house that day.

  Before I left the house, she had heaved herself onto the sofa, and was shouting for me to bring her cigarettes and a cup of tea. I knew she had a couple of bottles stashed under the sofa, but instead of emptying them as usual, I left everything as it was. Only the thought of freedom kept me going. I don’t relish the memories of this kill. As she bled out, it was more a rush of relief so intense I nearly threw up, than any actual enjoyment. I was careful to leave the knife in her hand, and the note propped on the Welsh oak dresser.