Deep Water by Mark Ayre (best big ereader TXT) 📕

"Did Louis send you?"

"No."

Alice watched her, and Abbie didn't look away. Let the woman search for signs of dishonesty. Her son had done the same.

"Good," said Alice. "But no point sticking around anyway. I'm not worth it. Find some pretty young damsel and leave the old crone to her fate."

"You're not old," said Abbie.

"You said OAP."

"That sounded good. I didn't mean it."

"I should hope not."

After a while, Abbie said, "Why do you expect to die tonight?" She wasn't sure if Alice would answer. After all, Abbie had implied prophetic dreams led her to the coast. If Alice believed this a joke, why would she open up?

But after only a few seconds, Alice said, "I expect Louis to kill me."

"Why?"

"Because that's all that's left."

Hands still restless, Alice looked to the bar. She wanted a drink. Abbie wouldn't have judged, though it was not long gone sunrise. But the nearly-birthday girl refrained.

"My third husband and I were arms dealers. Ship the guns in, ship the guns out. We were good at it—the perfect team. Until the muppet got pissed and drowned a hundred feet from our home. Suddenly, I had two daughters, five and thirteen, who'd lost their father. The younger wouldn't stop crying; the older went off the rails. I had a broken heart and a police investigation to contend with. I lost the plot, started taking stupid risks. I was acquitted of my husband's murder but, a year after my youngest two kids lost their father, their idiot mother got herself—and their oldest half-brother—arrested for arms dealing. Because of a sexist system, Adam, my son, remains locked up while I walk free, but that's another gripe. We're talking about Louis."

It seemed like they were taking a roundabout way to find how this linked to Louis, but Abbie was happy to let the story play out. She said nothing. Waited for Alice to go on.

"You know how some crooks go into prison," Alice said, "and find God, and it changes them?”

"Yeah," said Abbie. She tried to keep any scepticism from her voice. Alice didn't notice.

"Well, something like that happened to me. Except, instead of God, I found education."

This was an eyebrow-raiser.

"I know how it sounds," said Alice. "But you have to understand, from when I was thirteen years old, the man who would become my first husband deprived me of an education. At seventeen, he got me pregnant. On my eighteenth birthday, he forced me to marry him. By the time I escaped him and the murder trial that followed, I was nineteen with a one-year-old and a newborn to take care of. By the time I married Tony's father and was granted the time for an education, I no longer saw the point. I could read and write. I had a natural intelligence and wit that served me well. Why did I need school?"

This was a rhetorical question, so Abbie didn't answer. A new sound in the sky caught her attention as Alice paused. The seagulls had awoken. Above the talking women's heads, the birds circled, squawked and searched for breakfast.

"When I went to prison," Alice continued. "Studying was one of the few activities available to me. I picked up a book, just wanting something to pass the time. Within minutes, I was hooked. In the pursuit of knowledge, of learning for learning's sake, I found a passion that eclipsed anything I had before experienced. I raced through the syllabuses, starting at the school level I'd left all those years ago when my first husband tore into my life. By the time they paroled me, I had a first-class degree in politics and economics and another in philosophy. On top of that, I added a masters degree, and I'm hoping to start my doctorate in the next few months."

She paused—a wistful smile playing across her lips.

“Was hoping, that is. Before Aurora."

Alice looked to the sea. Again, Abbie could not prevent her hand from dropping to her drawstring bag, from feeling The Stand. What might Violet have achieved if her life hadn't cruelly been ripped from her? What would Abbie's life be like? It didn't bear thinking about. It hurt too much.

"Why is this relevant?" said Alice, voicing what should have been Abbie's question. "Because my thirst for knowledge fundamentally changed me. By the time Morris died, we’d accrued enough money that neither my children nor I would ever need to work again. I had no need to continue gun-running. I did it because it was all I had to distract me from the grief and boredom that had become my constant companions. All that changed during my years in prison. Studying is my passion now, and not only that. Once I opened my mind to learning, I couldn't close it again. When the books weren't in my hands, when I wasn't researching on the internet, I was thinking about the result of my illegal activities. What were the guns I sold being used for? I know that sounds stupid. I had always known, but I never dwelled. Now I was dwelling—all those lives lost—and I couldn't stand another day of it."

"You closed the business?" said Abbie.

Alice nodded. "The second I got home. Cancelled all contracts, told our clients and our suppliers we were no longer operational. It was as simple as that."

"Nothing's ever as simple as the proverbial that," said Abbie.

Alice smiled. Looked over the sea.

"Ain't that the truth? My eldest daughter disagreed vehemently with my decision. Luckily, in this family, my word is law. My problem was my stock holding—numerous weapon caches across the city. Hundreds of thousands of pounds worth of guns all told, and me with no need of the money and a sudden moral inability to sell them on as planned. It was a puzzle, alright."

A puzzle. An excellent term that summed up Abbie's situation, too. She was used to saving people who turned out not to be as kind and honest as they had portrayed themselves. After all, everyone lies; we all have