Deep Water Mark Ayre (inspirational books for students txt) 📖

For the first time, Abbie heard what she considered to be positive shifting. Abbie didn't move but, in her peripheral, was sure she saw Ollie twist his head up, if only for a second.

"You're on here a few times," Abbie continued. "In fact, you may well be the most featured, except for Aurora herself and this gerbil looking creature."

"Hamster."

Abbie didn't turn or offer a glimmer of shock that Ollie had spoken for the first time. She merely nodded and said, "Sure, cause no tail, right? I never could remember," then went back to browsing the photos.

She hovered over another, taken a few years after the first. Morris stood on the deck of his boat. Under one arm, he held Aurora, under the other Ollie. He appeared to be spinning them. All three parties were laughing.

"Morris must have been strong," she mused. She examined the faces and felt a surge of sadness. "This can't have been taken long before he died."

More shifting, and Abbie knew Ollie was curious as to which picture had Abbie's attention. He twisted his head, and this time Abbie turned to meet his eye, causing him to shove his face back into the pillow.

Abbie withheld a smile. Unpinning the photo in question, she slipped the pin onto the wardrobe and rounded the bed. Once she was behind Ollie's back, she held out the image.

"Here, take a look."

"Seen it," he said.

Abbie hovered over Ollie a few more seconds, then nodded, though he wasn't looking at her. "Fair enough. I might keep this one, actually."

All it took was a single step away for Ollie to spin.

"No, you can't take her things. You can't."

Now they were looking at each other, and Abbie was able to hold those hurt eyes. The boy looked awful. He had been on the verge of a breakdown when Abbie had seen him at the shopping centre yesterday afternoon. Now he was in the middle of it, sliding further and further into despair. Unlike with Jacob, Abbie could not believe Ollie's parent would be in a position to offer him the emotional support he so clearly needed.

"No," said Abbie. "You're quite right, don't know what I was thinking."

The picture was still in her hand. Ollie jutted out a palm. Abbie hesitated only a second before stepping forward and placing the image in his grasp.

His hand retracted. For several seconds, he stared at the photo, then he began to cry again.

"I miss them."

Abbie looked at the picture from her position a few steps back. "Morris was good to you, then?"

Ollie's eyes were sharp with anger, if not hate. "Why wouldn't he be? Because I'm messed up? Because I'm a worthless piece of shit?"

"I didn't say you were either," said Abbie, her voice calm. "I meant because you were the son of his step-daughter. A step-daughter he didn't meet until she was in adulthood. It would be easy to believe a man might struggle to connect with a child like that."

“He was amazing,” said Ollie. “He was nice to me, so of course, he died.”

“People who are nice to you always die?”

“Morris and Aurora,” Ollie whispered. “No one else has ever been nice to me.”

“Not your mother?”

“She loves me,” said Ollie, which said a lot. Parents like Angel had little time for their children. They put more emphasis on obedience and achievement than on care and enjoyment. Kids of such parents are more likely to associate love with duty than with kindness. Abbie had no doubt Ollie loved his mother greatly; hence he was so keen to protect her. The question was, did he like her?

Rather than pull this thread, Abbie said, "What about your grandma?"

Ollie shrugged. "She's nice now. But she abandoned me. She was careless and stupid, and she went away."

Careless. Stupid. These were words fed to Ollie by his mother. Angel professed to be turning against Alice because of how Alice had handled the Louis situation. Abbie wondered if that were true. How long, really, had Angel resented her mother? How long had she felt the need to poison Alice's children and grandchild against her and take control of the family?

"Well, if people who are nice to you end up dead, I'm in real trouble because that's exactly what I intend to be."

"You're not nice," said Ollie. "You attacked me."

He rubbed his jaw where Abbie's elbow had caught him. Abbie rolled her eyes.

"I elbowed you because you attacked me."

"Because you attacked my mum."

"Because your mum sent people to kill me."

"Because you attacked Auntie Ariana."

"Because she was going to hurt Jacob."

"Because Louis killed Aurora."

"Aha," said Abbie. "You lose the because-off. No untruths. That's clearly stated in the rules. Five points to me."

"Louis killed Aurora," Ollie said again. Then, "So I don't lose."

The boy was angry, upset. At his comment about Abbie’s made-up-on-the-spot game, Abbie could not help but smile. She came towards the bed.

"Mind if I sit?"

"Yes."

"Okay, good." She sat. "Ollie, do you truly, without a shadow of a doubt, believe Louis murdered Aurora?”

"He blamed grandma for what happened to Niall. And he's always had it out for us. And he kills people who get in his—"

Abbie raised a hand. "Stop. You're not answering the question. I'm willing to accept Louis is a bad person who was angry at your grandma. I'm willing to accept he's killed before. I'm even willing to accept it's possible he killed Aurora, though I suspect he didn't. Here's what I'm asking… do you believe, without the slightest reservation, Louis killed Aurora?"

"Yes." Except he hesitated first; his eyes flicked to the ground. Because, of course, he wasn't sure. How could he be?

"Okay," said Abbie. "In that case, you'll have no problem detailing the evidence that makes you so certain. And before you go on," she cut him off, "remember, I don't mean the circumstantial stuff: he was angry, he had form, that kind of thing. I'm talking about evidence that convinces a jury that a man is guilty of a crime beyond a reasonable doubt. So,