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45
I putthe full bag of pregnancy tests on the shelf in the laundry room and go straight to the fridge, pulling out the peanut butter and diving in. My body’s strung, my foot’s tapping wildly on the floor, and my mind’s racing. The run was fucking pointless.
Ava walks in, and I force myself to smile. I can tell she’s not buying it. I hold up her drink and something to eat, and she accepts, lowering to a seat beside me. Too close. She must be able to feel the tension on my skin. I look down at her jeans and tee, which look three sizes too big, searching for something normal to say. Anything.Speak!“I hope you’ve got lace on under all of that baggy shit.” Normal forus.
“I have,” she replies, showing me. Usually, such a move would have me off this stool and throwing her over my shoulder. Now, I can only nod. “I thought you were getting dinner?” She inspects her choices and settles on a croissant.
“Technically, as you have been asleep all day, it’s breakfast time.” I offer her some peanut butter when I see her nose wrinkle. “What do you want to do this evening?”
“I get to pick?”
“I told you, I have to let you have your way some of the time. I’m all for give and take.” She laughs as I brush some pastry away from her lip. “Something funny?”
“No, nothing,” she says, coughing, forcing me to pat her on the back. Is she choking? My pats become firmer, until she swallows, smiling her thanks. “It went down the wrong way.”
I exhale, relieved, wondering if the world could stop throwing me challenges, and look at the phone on the wall when it rings. My heart turns in my chest as I abandon Ava and my peanut butter to answer. “Mr. Ward, there’s a...man here to see you.” I can see Clive in my mind eyeing Jay with suspicion. I can’t blame him. He looks like he could play the role of any skinhead gangster in any Guy Richie movie.
“Clive, yes, see him up.” I stare at the wall for a few moments, feeling Ava’s inquisitive stare on my back. “Jay,” I say in answer to her silent question.
“Jay?” she questions. “Who’s Jay?”
Hopefully the man with some answers. “The doorman.” I collect my jar and put it back in the fridge, feeling the atmosphere thicken. “He’s got the CCTV footage from the bar.” I leave the kitchen and walk on slightly wobbly legs to the door, taking a breath before I pull it open, just as Jay steps off the elevator. He looks as impressed as always as he holds up some kind of disc. What’s on it that warrants a visit? What do I need to see? “Come in,” I say, opening the way for him.
The moment we enter the kitchen, Ava looks at Jay, drops down from her stool, and walks out, not even saying hello to him.
“Where are you going?” I ask as she passes us, frowning at her back.
“Toilet.” She disappears, and I look at Jay. He shrugs, but something tells me he’s a man in the know. I look around the corner and up the stairs, just catching sight of her before she goes into the bedroom. She looked in a rush. What the fuck is going on?
“Use the TV in the lounge,” I tell him. “I’ll be back in a minute.” I leave Jay and go after Ava. The bedroom is empty. She’s in the bathroom. Door closed. I try the handle. Locked. “Ava?”
“Yes?”
I frown at the wood. She sounded...worried. “What’s up, baby?” I keep my voice gentle. “You okay?”
“Yes, fine. I’ll be down in a minute.”
“Why is the door locked?”
A beat, just a beat, but quite a telling beat. “I didn’t realize I’d locked it. I’m having a wee.”
I step back, suspicious. “Okay,” I say quietly. When has she ever locked the bathroom when she’s used it? We were past shyness on the first...date. “Don’t be long.”
“I won’t,” she sings, as I back up, my mind racing, my eyes on the wood. I don’t like this, not at all.
When I make it downstairs, Jay’s in front of the TV, a remote control in his hand. “What am I watching for?” I ask, joining him, looking back up the stairs. Is she throwing up? Morning sickness?
“Just watch,” Jay says, pulling my attention round.
I squint, focused on the TV as Jay speeds up the footage, seeing the comings and goings of a London bar on a Saturday night. Then I see her. It’s grainy, blurry, but I’d know my girl anywhere. “Slow it,” I say, and he does. “That’s it, leave it playing.”
I study the screen, Ava and her friends huddled around a table, each of them coming and going, but Ava remains on her stool for the duration. Then, suddenly, all of them are gone and she’s alone. Alone until a man approaches. I exhale, leaning in, squinting harder to see the blurry footage better. “Pause it.” The screen stills, and I wander closer, eyes on the man by Ava’s table.Turner. She never mentioned him. Why? “Keep it going.” My eyes travel around the TV, then down to the bar floor when Ava starts picking things up. “I need another angle.”
“There’s another camera.”
“Get me it,” I order shortly, looking at him. “Did you see her talking to him?” The burn in my gut is intense.
Jay shakes his head, frustrated. “Ward, I do what I can,” he says, like cut him some fucking slack. “But if I’m called away to deal with some drunken twat or a few catfighting girls, I can’t watch her.”
