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

a small dinner, Abbie was famished. Without hesitation, she served some of everything onto her plate and onto Alice's as the hostess rose to make coffee. While it brewed, Alice began to whistle again. A happy tune that chimed perfectly with the hope in the air and the nerves in Abbie's heart.

"I take it you've had some luck this morning," said Abbie, cutting into a sausage. "With the items we discussed last night."

"Oh, yes," said Alice. "I was up early and had Pedro on the phone before the sun was in the sky. We discussed Louis' misunderstanding. I explained there were no guns and braced myself for his fury, but do you know what he said?"

Abbie had bitten into a sausage so couldn't answer the question. She gestured to her empty fork and finished the mouthful.

"This is incredible."

"No, that's not what he said."

Abbie rolled her eyes. Alice smiled.

"Thank you, Abbie. Pedro said he knew Louis was a fool and never expected him to get the guns. He's already found another supplier, so we won't be hearing any more from him."

Chuckling, Alice put two mugs on the surface and began pouring coffee. She chuckled at her good fortune, but Abbie could not find the same level of solace in the news.

"Then I rang Angel," said Alice. "She was more difficult, but like I said, I'm her mother. No matter what she claims, she still loves and respects me. I told her if she attended the party tonight, all would become clear, but I needed her word that no harm would befall anyone today. Not just Jacob, Kyle, Louis, and you, but anyone."

"And she agreed?"

Alice returned to the table and placed the coffees on the surface. "She agreed. That just leaves Ariana, but I happen to know she and Gray are upstairs. When she drags herself out of bed, I'll extract from her the same promise I did from Angel. Abbie," she pointed her fork at her guest. "Everything's coming up roses."

After forcing a smile for a second, Abbie hid her face in a rasher of bacon, which was as delicious as the sausage.

Hope, it surrounded them. More than hope, at this point. Alice was convinced everything was going to be okay.

Abbie had been here time and again. She would often arrive somewhere and highlight the danger someone was in. Then, as day one became day two, the threat would seem to pass or recede. In would creep hope. Potential victims would start to believe they were safe. These periods of hope, Abbie thought a well-known expression perfectly encapsulated what they were.

The calm before the storm.

Alice was sixty today. She had delicious food in front of her and hope regarding her children. Alex was with a crook but was happy, something might happen between Tony and Abbie, and Angel and Ariana would soon return to the fold. After the horrors of her daughter's murder, Alice was finally finding the strength to get her house back in order. Abbie loved the smile these beliefs put on the birthday girl’s face. Even if Abbie was dubious that any (besides Alex’s relationship) were well-founded. Did Abbie want to spoil that joy? Would it even help to do so?

Undecided, Abbie tried focusing on breakfast. She had forgotten how sharp Alice was. After taking a large swig of coffee, the birthday girl lowered her drink and stabbed Abbie's arm with her fork.

"Ow," said Abbie. "What the hell?"

"You're holding out on me," said Alice. "That's not what friends do."

"I don't know what you mean," said Abbie, wiping fat from her arm and sucking it from her finger. "Crazy lady."

Alice laughed. "Are you not the stranger, the wanderer, the interloper? Isn't one of the benefits of your existence that you needn't worry about upsetting people? You fly in, save lives, and fly out, never to be seen again. You can't be worried about ruining our bond?"

Abbie considered this. It summed up her position in some senses. At least, it used to, before Bobby. Before Alice. Pushing those thoughts aside, Abbie ate more breakfast and turned to Alice.

"Did you know that Ollie's upstairs?"

Alice looked up as though x-ray vision would reveal her grandson.

"No," she said. "In Aurora's room, I suppose?"

"That's right."

"Poor boy. He has a key and often lets himself in at night to lie on her bed and cry. I wish I could help, but he shuts down whenever I try to engage him in conversation."

Abbie nodded, held her tongue. Mentioning Ollie had been an opening created to allow Abbie to raise some of what she and the teenager had discussed. Suddenly she felt guilty that Ollie had spoken to her when he would not to his grandma.

"He opened up to you, didn't he?” said Alice, taking the decision from Abbie.

"Kind of."

Alice gave a half-glare. Then her eyes travelled from Abbie's face to her tee. Abbie raised her hand instinctively but not quick enough.

"Was that mark created by the tears of a teenage boy, perchance?"

Abbie didn't answer. Though she had no reason to feel guilty, she certainly did.

"Are you a witch?" said Alice.

"Sometimes, it's easier to open up to a stranger than to those closest to us," said Abbie. "Besides, I've had plenty of practice working the truth from people at short notice. It's vital to my line of work."

Alice smirked. "I'm jealous, though I know that's childish. But don't worry, I won't get hung up on it. I'm glad he opened up to you."

"So am I," said Abbie. "He blames himself for what happened to Aurora, but I think I've helped him start to working through that, to understand the blame lies solely with the knife-wielder."

"Thank you," said Alice. "For helping him."

"I wasn't bragging," said Abbie. "He told me something. Something... worrying."

"Right," said Alice. "What's that?"

"A story about his mother."

Alice's jaw tightened. She forced herself to speak. "What story?"

Abbie hesitated. Getting Angel in trouble was something that bothered Abbie not at all. More concerning was breaking the implicit confidence she shared with Ollie after he opened up.

"Nothing you