Hey – remember when Sam took us both out for driving lessons in his first car and you nearly ended up in that ditch near Newton St Clare? I still remember the strange shade of purple Sam turned’
Bryony gasped as she read the message, her mind spiralling back to that embarrassing day.
Yes, well don’t forget who passed their driving test first time and who had to take it twice! she replied, smiling as she hit the send button.
This thing with Ben – these messages flying between them – were getting a bit too familar, she told herself, too natural. She had to remain distanced. She had to be focussed on her plan and, with that in mind, she reached for the phone and called home.
‘Hi darling,’ her mother said. ‘What a lovely surprise. Is everything all right?’
‘Of course,’ Bryony said. ‘I just wanted to hear your voice.’
‘Oh, sweetheart!’ her mother said.
‘Actually, I wouldn’t mind speaking to Dad if he’s around?’
‘Well, it’s been dark for a while now so I’m pretty sure he’s in the house and not the garden.’
Bryony laughed. ‘Good.’
‘I’ll just get him for you.’
Bryony waited, listening to one of the dogs barking in the background and Grandpa Joe’s voice asking who was on the phone. A few moments later, she heard her father’s voice.
‘Bry?’ he said.
‘Hey, Dad.’
‘You okay, love?’
‘I’m good,’ she said, blinking the tears away. ‘I wanted to ask you something.’
‘Sure. Is it garden-related?’
‘No, it isn’t.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I wanted to ask you how you felt when Mum pulled that trick on you. You know – when she stood you up? I mean, I know you told me you felt you deserved it, but how did you really feel?’
There was a pause before her father answered. ‘Well, I felt hurt if I’m honest. I mean I knew why she did it. But I was also worried because, for a while, I thought she’d broken up with me. I wasn’t sure she wanted to see me again and that nearly broke my heart.’
‘Oh, Dad!’
‘But you know how that turned out,’ he told her. ‘We got our happy ending.’
‘I know.’
‘Why did you want to know about that, Bry?’ he asked her.
‘I just – I’ve just been thinking about it, that’s all.’
‘No real reason then?’
‘No,’ she lied. ‘No reason.’
There was another pause.
‘You still there, honey?’
‘I’m still here, Dad, but I’d better go.’
‘Well, you let me know if you need to talk about anything, okay?’
‘I will. I promise.’
They said their goodnights and their goodbyes and Bryony hung up the phone, thinking of her father as a young man and of her mother who’d had the power to break his heart. She wouldn’t have, of course, because her mother and her father had been madly in love and nothing could have kept them apart. Not like her and Ben. They weren’t in love, were they? Not anymore. Or at least, she wasn’t in love with him. And, if he’d ever truly been in love with her, surely he would never have left her. It was as simple as that. She couldn’t believe in his love now and she couldn’t ever forgive him.
She went upstairs, turning the light on beside her bed and catching her reflection in the mirror on her dressing table. At first, she didn’t recognise herself. She looked haunted, there was no other word for it. Haunted by the past. And she knew there was only one thing she could do to escape it – she had to exorcise it, and if that meant breaking Ben’s heart then so be it.
Chapter Sixteen
Ben loved Cambridge and any excuse to visit was good enough for him. He loved the architecture – the pale golden stone of the colleges, and he adored the emerald green of the quads and parks, and the wonderful blue of the River Cam. It was a beautiful city and there was always something new to discover there, but sight-seeing wasn’t on the agenda today. He was meeting Aria and they were on the hunt again.
They met outside the train station and Aria immediately embraced Ben, squeezing him tightly to her.
‘I want to apologise,’ she began, ‘for the way I treated you in London.’
‘You already have,’ Ben assured her.
‘Not in – what’s the phrase? In body.’
‘In person,’ Ben corrected her.
‘Yes. Only in text.’
‘But you don’t need to keep saying you’re sorry. I know what you’re going through.’
‘But I was mean to you when you were trying to help me.’
‘It’s okay.’
‘Have you forgiven me?’ she asked, her face suddenly like that of a child.
‘There’s nothing to forgive,’ he promised her.
‘I don’t know what I’d have done without you,’ she told him. ‘Being here – it’s so strange. I think I would have given up by now.’
‘No you wouldn’t have,’ Ben told her. ‘You’re strong, Aria. You can do anything you want and you’ve made it this far.’
‘I know,’ she said, ‘but it’s been easier because of you.’
‘Hey, we all need a bit of moral support especially when we’re far from home.’
She smiled. ‘And I have a good feeling.’
‘You do?’
‘I think we’re going to find him today.’ She shrugged. ‘This Cambridge place – it feels right.’
‘Yeah?’ Ben grinned at her enthusiasm. ‘But we don’t have much to go on.
She smiled. ‘The friend I told you about?’
‘The one in Ruislip?
‘He called me. He’s pretty sure Dario mentioned a place called St Augustine’s. Do you know it?’
‘St Augustine’s? That doesn’t give much away, does it?’
‘Is it a college?’
‘I don’t think so. I mean, I don’t recognise the name. It sounds more like a church.’
‘What would he be doing in a church?’ Aria asked.
‘You’d know better than I would.’ Ben reached into his pocket for a map of Cambridge he’d printed out from the internet that morning and then he got out his phone to look the place up.
‘It’s a church all right and it’s bit of a trek,’ he said. ‘We could catch a bus into town and then walk from there.’
Aria nodded. ‘Can we see some of Cambridge?’ she asked.
‘What, first?’
She nodded.
‘Erm, sure,’ Ben said, surprised that she didn’t want to make straight for the address where her brother might be, especially if she had a good feeling that he’d be there.
‘I want to see your English colleges.’
They caught a bus into town, jumping off and walking around for the best part of an hour. Tour groups gathered outside the entrances to the colleges, cameras and phones at the ready to take pictures and Aria joined in, her phone held up as she took photo after photo.
‘It’s so beautiful!’ she enthused. ‘I want to live here, study here.’
They spent a little while longer walking around the colleges and then Ben made a show of looking at his watch.
‘Don’t you think we should find this place?’ he asked her.
She seemed surprised by his question, but then turned serious.
‘Yes, of course.’
Ben nodded and led the way.
They passed the entrance to the Fitzwilliam Museum and Aria stopped to take a photograph of the impressive white facade.
Ben scratched his head. Was it his imagination or was she a little too relaxed about finding her brother? Perhaps he was being too harsh. Cambridge was a special place and it wasn’t surprising that she was bowled over by its beauty.
She must have caught him looking at her quizzically because she apologised.
‘I’m sorry. It’s just so beautiful and I might not be here again.’
They continued walking and it wasn’t long befor
e they found the street they were after and there in front of them was St Augustine’s. It was an austere-looking Victorian Gothic church and, as they crossed the road, they could hear the muffled sound of music coming from inside.
Ben opened the heavy oak door and they stepped inside, immediately enveloped by the scene.
‘It’s a playgroup,’ Ben said, nodding towards the children who were sprawled out on a large rug beside some book cases on the far side of the church. The music was coming from a CD player and one of the adults in charge was teaching some of the older children some actions.
‘Aria – is Dario likely to be here?’ Ben asked.
‘He always loved children,’ she said. ‘Maybe he’s working here.’
‘Can you see him?’
They both looked around, but could only see the woman who was patting her head and circling her tummy at the same time – a move Ben still hadn’t mastered to this day.
‘I don’t…’ Aria’s voice petered out as a tall man with short dark hair walked out from a room at the back of the church. He was smiling down at a small boy whose hand he was holding. The boy had a tear-stained face and the man was whispering something to him and Ben heard Aria catch her breath.
‘Is that him, Aria? Is that you brother, Dario?’
Aria didn’t respond for a moment, but then turned to Ben. ‘That’s Dario,’ she told him, tears in her eyes.
Aria wasn’t the only one with tears in her eyes; Flo Lohman had them too as she looked at the photographs Bryony had printed out for her of Mitch stealing the silver candlesticks. She still couldn’t believe that her own flesh and blood would do something like that to her and it was made even worse by the fact that he’d used Sonny to do the stealing.
She thought back to when she’d visited Mitch’s home. It had been stuffed with antiques. Had they all been stolen, she wondered now? Had her nephew being taking whatever he wanted from little old ladies across the whole of Suffolk? She dreaded to think. But what should she do next? She still hadn’t worked it out.
One thing she was certain of, though, was that Sonny was staying with her for the time being. Mitch might have planted him there for stealing purposes only, and might want to take him home at some point, but Flo couldn’t bear the thought of her great-nephew being raised to be a thief. Besides she’d seen a real change in the boy since he’d been at Cuckoo Cottage. He was taking an interest in the animals and would often be out in the garden before her in the morning, collecting the eggs and feeding everyone. He was more talkative too. They had conversations now rather than him just responding in monosyllables. He was still painfully shy if any of Flo’s friends dropped by, but she could see that he was growing in confidence now that he was away from the domineering personality of his father.
Flo walked around the rooms of her cottage, noting the things that were missing. After the recent drop, Sonny had sat down with Flo at the kitchen table and he’d told her everything he could remember taking. It had been quite a list and Flo had done her best not to cry in front of him. It wasn’t so much about the things, although it was bad enough that some of her beloved family heirlooms had been taken, it was more about the personal violation – the fact that her nephew had been sizing up her belongings. Had he no feelings? Didn’t he care that those things meant something to her other than the financial value of them?
She hadn’t even realised that the gold locket, which had belonged to her grandmother, had been missing. It had her grandmother’s initials carved into it and would be of little value to anyone else because of that, which would mean it would be sold for scrap – melted down with a heap of other pieces. But, to Flo, that piece was a direct link to her past. Although she only wore it on special occasions, it was very dear to her. She liked to softly brush her fingers across those initials, remembering happy times spent with her grandmother. You couldn’t replace that sort of thing; it was just too precious, and she couldn’t believe that her nephew had told Sonny to steal from her jewellery box.
As she looked at the little table in the living room with the gap where a silver photo frame had once stood, she wondered if she’d ever see any of her pieces again or if Mitch had already sold them. A part of her wanted to storm right across to his house now with a big cardboard box to take all of her things back, but there was the other part of her that was paralysed with fear.
What if she just ignored it? What if she pretended she hadn’t noticed? Surely he’d stop at some point? He couldn’t seriously take much more and not expect her to notice, could he? Surely then they’d be able to move forward with no unpleasantness.
Flo shook her head. There was no ignoring this issue. As much as she wanted to pretend it wasn’t happening, she knew she had to face it head on.
‘And that means facing Mitch,’ she told herself. ‘Heaven help me.’
A shaft of spring sunlight beamed in through one of the stained glass windows of St Augustine’s.
‘Dario!’ Aria cried.
The man looked up and was momentarily blinded by the sun. He shielded his eyes to try and see who’d called his name and his warm smile instantly vanished. He whispered something to the boy whose hand he’d been holding and patted him towards the play mat where the other children were.
‘Dario!’ Aria cried again, running across the aisle towards him.
‘Aria?’ he said. He didn’t sound pleased and Ben was instantly on his guard. He’d had a feeling this might happen. Dario had run away from an impossible situation. He’d buried himself in a foreign city and was obviously trying to make a new life. The last thing he’d want reminding of was a painful past. Ben knew the feeling all too well.
‘Dario,’ Aria spoke quietly now as heads were turning to see what was going on. ‘Aren’t you going to say something?’
His face looked dark with anger. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ He also muttered something else in Italian which Ben was pretty sure wasn’t appropriate in a church.
‘I’ve come to find you, silly.’
‘Don’t touch me!’ he said in Italian, surprising Ben as he moved away from her.
‘We need to talk,’ Aria said. She was speaking in Italian too now.
‘I’m working.’
‘Yes, I can see that.’
Ben took pity on her. ‘She’s come a long way, Dario.’
‘And who exactly are you?’ he asked Ben.
‘I’m Ben Stratton. I’m her friend. We met in Italy. She’s told me what’s been going on and I’ve been helping her to find you.’
‘What the hell did you bring her to me for? Are you insane?’ Dario asked.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Ben,’ Aria said, turning to face him. ‘I think it’s time you left. I need to talk to Dario alone.’
Ben nodded. He understood that, but he was loath to leave her there in case things turned nasty. He felt a duty of care towards Aria and so he hesitated at leaving her with an angry man in a city she didn’t know.
‘What if I wait over here?’ he said to her, pointing to a pew on the other side of the aisle.
She said something really fast in Italian then, something he didn’t quite catch, but he could see that she was angry and it was clear that she didn’t want him there any longer.
‘I’m not leaving, Aria,’ he told her. ‘Not until you’ve sorted things out with your brother.’
‘What?’ Dario exclaimed in English. ‘Her brother? What the hell, Aria?’ He turned to face her and then looked at Ben again. ‘Her brother? Is that what she told you?’ He cursed. ‘She’s more twisted than I thought.’
Ben was confused and looked to Aria for an explanation, but she only had eyes for Dario and so Ben turned to him.
‘You’re not her brother?’ he asked. ‘Then who on earth are you?’
Dario shook his head. ‘I can’t believe this is happening.’
‘What? What’s happening?’ Ben asked. ‘She told me she was looking for her brother, Dario. She said Dario had run away afte
r things got violent with his step-father at home. You are Dario?’
‘I’m Dario alright, but I’m sure not her brother.’ He cursed again. ‘Someone warned me about her once, but I stupidly didn’t listen to them. I fell for her and then it was too late.’
‘Dario – don’t talk like that,’ Aria said. ‘It’s not too late.
‘Get your hands off me!’ Dario said, jolting away from her touch. ‘Don’t let her near you,’ he told Ben. ‘She’s poison. She’s been stalking me ever since I broke up with her four months ago. The only way I could escape her was to leave.’ He gave a hollow laugh then. ‘But even England wasn’t far enough, was it?’
By this time, one of the women in charge of the children had stood up from her place on the rug and had approached.
‘Dario? Is everything okay?’ she asked in a gentle voice.
‘No, it isn’t. This woman needs to leave,’ he said, speaking in English once again.
‘I’m not leaving,’ Aria said.
‘You’re leaving,’ Dario said.
Aria reached out and grabbed him by the arm, but he shook her off.
‘I told you I never wanted to see you again. Why is that so hard to understand? You’re not right, Aria. You’re controlling and you’re cruel and I want nothing more to do with you.’
Ben had seen enough. It was time for him to leave. He walked towards the door, the voices of Aria and Dario getting louder by the moment. The distressed woman was doing her best to calm them both down and a couple of the children had started crying. Ben needed to get outside.
Once he was through the door, he marched right across Cambridge, passing the Fitzwilliam once again and the shops and the colleges they’d photographed. He took a couple of wrong turns in his anger, but finally made it back to the train station.
He was furious. He’d been used. Betrayed and used. When he’d first met Aria he’d trusted her with his story about his mother’s partner – the story he hadn’t even told Bryony – and she’d used his vulnerability to get what she wanted out of him. It had been a horrible, twisted thing to do, and he’d fallen for her lies and those big vulnerable eyes of hers. She’d reached out and it had been his instinct to want to try and help her.
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