Page 44 of Dead of Summer
“I didn’t say that. Did I say that?” Walter puts his palms up to show his innocence. “I don’t take sides. I’m like Austria.”
“I think you mean Switzerland,” Orla says. She’s becoming annoyed now. Walter is an idiot. She should never have engaged with him.
“Don’t know. Never been there.”
She stands up and is preparing to leave, when he says, “I hear David Clarke has a new girlfriend.”
“Does he? I wouldn’t know.” Now she can see he is toying with her,trying to get a rise. That’s what small-town people do when they’re bored. Create their own gossip.
“Oh, I met her. Faith.” Walter rolls the name around in his mouth.
“That ridiculous name,” she mutters, remembering the woman on the beach. The way she looked at Orla.Would I have seen any of your art?Walter stretches back against the bench, entertained.
“Yeah, she came into the Crab alone a few times,” he says. “Nice girl. Smart too. Pretty, like Alice was.”
Orla takes a swig of tequila. The thought of Faith makes her feel sick to her stomach.
Walter smiles, he’s enjoying this. “You don’t like it. Still have a crush on David Clarke after all this time, don’t you?”
“What would you know about that?” she snaps. “No, I don’t. I hate him actually. I just don’t see why he deserves to be happy.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry, she won’t last. Trust me,” he says. “Look at what happened to the other one, to David’s mom.”
“What do you mean? I thought she left them.” Orla barely remembers the beautiful woman who teetered in the background, worry gnawing on her face until one summer she was gone. She’d gone into treatment, David said, and never brought it up again.
“You could say that. Or you could say that she was put into circumstances that made it impossible to stay.”
“You’re saying Geoffrey got her addicted to painkillers so he could get rid of her?”
“Me? I’m saying nothing.” He twists an invisible lock near his lips.
Orla lets out an angry laugh. “None of those Clarke men could ever commit to someone.”
“Maybe they just like their freedom,” Walter posits, insincerely.
“Maybe they are just selfish assholes,” Orla snaps at him.
“Whooo, okay. You have a real chip on your shoulder, lady.” Walter pulls himself down to the other end of his bench and studies her.
“Could say the same about you,” Orla replies. She stands up as though to storm off but realizes she isn’t sure where she is going.
“You never really bounced back from all that drama with Alice, did you? Maybe time to move on?”
“Maybe it’s survivor’s guilt,” she says quietly, crossing her arms in front of her.
“Maybe,” Walter says, though he doesn’t sound entirely convinced.
Orla has had quite enough of Walter and his bullshit.
“There’s another girl missing, you know? Gemma, works down at the Crab or did until a week ago.”
A shudder rattles Orla’s spine as he continues, “They’ll probably be going after Henry again.”
“Why? What do you know?” Her chest heaves.
Walter shrugs. “The police have some evidence on him. At least that’s what my sources say.” He gives her one last long stare, and then he stubs the cigarette out on the side of the bench and begins to walk away.
Orla starts in the other direction, following the dark curve of the road up past the beach toward home.
