by Rosie Howard
‘I do love it here, but I’d be walking away from a lot …’
‘Your London clients?’
‘Yes,’ she agreed, ‘but they’re not just mine, they’re Simon’s too. We’re a partnership. Not a proper, formal one, but that’s where it’s heading, I’m sure.’
‘Ah yes,’ sighed Ben. ‘About that—’
‘It’s not simple!’ Maddy burst out in anguish. ‘Simon, me, the business, it’s everything. It’s everything I’ve done since … the thing happened.’
‘You mean, you’ve nailed the “thing” because you’ve taken back control, starting up a business, a relationship, making a home for yourself. It’s been, what? Three years?’
She nodded.
‘And all this?’ he pressed.
‘It’s amazing,’ said Maddy, remembering her elation in the car earlier that evening. ‘But it’s all mixed up with the memories, or lack of them, obviously …’ she joked.
‘You belong here, though,’ said Ben. ‘Can you not feel it? You belong with—’ He stopped himself. ‘With … all of us. Serena, Flora, Patrick … me.’ He paused. ‘You’ve even got your mum here at the moment.’
‘Mm, not sure how much longer that’s going to be for. It’s lovely having her here but they were scrapping within seconds at the hospital. Gawd knows what they’re going to be like when he’s home.’
‘Seriously, are you sure he isn’t your dad? It just fits.’
‘I know he isn’t.’
‘Tell me?’ Ben settled himself a bit more comfortably into the sofa cushions and turned towards her, ready to listen.
She sighed and began: ‘Okay, well, Mum’s always told me he’s dead. Nothing more and I didn’t ask.’
‘Okay.’
‘And then, I asked her again before I came here to study because – whoever he was – I’d worked out she met him here and – yeah – when she was telling me to contact Patrick it definitely crossed my mind. All she would say was she’d had a torrid affair that summer. That he was married, they had this fling … and he was killed in a motorbike accident before either of them even knew she was pregnant. She left here shortly after. The end.’
Ben didn’t reply. She looked at him but he seemed mightily interested in the fireplace all of a sudden. She waited. When he turned to her at last he looked strained.
‘Will you let Duncan help you?’
‘The PTSD study?’
She paused. ‘I so admire you. Even more so now I know about Andrew …’
‘But …’
‘But,’ echoed Maddy, with the ghost of a smile.
‘You can’t.’
She shook her head, biting her lip. ‘I’m really, really sorry.’ She turned to Ben and he saw the tears welling up in her eyes.
He pulled her into his arms, staring grimly over her shoulder as he held her so she couldn’t see the devastation on his face.
Back in the car, Ben stared fixedly through the windscreen, scenes flashing through his head; his childhood, his mother, the memories he had of his father … He bashed the steering wheel with the heel of his hand and groaned. Belatedly he remembering the maxim ‘never ask a question unless you know you’re going to like the answer’. Like the opening of Pandora’s box, his casual question had made her say things that couldn’t be unsaid. And she didn’t even know what she had done.
Maddy felt bad and it wasn’t just the wine she had drunk with supper the previous night. She kept seeing Ben’s face when she told him she wouldn’t take part in the study. More than professional disappointment, he had looked utterly bereft. To distract herself she decided to do some work on the Bespoke Consortium website.
Keith had put all the photos online and emailed her the link so – even though she didn’t yet have the money to get the web boys started – she could at least edit the photos.
Because the files were huge and the Internet in the flat was ropey Maddy had staggered down the stairs with her laptop under her arm and set herself up in a corner of the bar.
Half an hour from opening time, Kevin was mooching about, pushing a mop around with an attitude of absolute disdain. Through his body language alone he made it clear that cleaning was beneath him and that conversation was not welcome, which was fine with her.
She sighed, rubbing her tired eyes and then looking – unfocused – into the middle distance to give them a rest. After a few seconds of daydreaming she realised, with a jolt, that she was staring, unseeing, straight at Kevin.
He stopped pulling the chairs down off the tables and loped rapidly towards her, fixing her with his gaze. She felt like a mouse spotted by an eagle, a rabbit in the headlights. She looked down and pretended to fiddle with the keyboard.
‘That’s the same leg,’ he said, nodding at her plaster cast. ‘The same leg you broke last time.’
‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘Yes it is.’
‘Funny, that.’
Maddy nodded, not trusting her voice.
‘Remember what happened this time, do ya?’
She nodded again, hoping he couldn’t see the sledgehammer heartbeats that shook her body. Her hands were balled into fists, her breath catching as she tried not to pant.
‘Yeah,’ he sneered.
She risked raising her eyes, just in time to see him leaning in, his mouth twisted into a taunting grin.
She flattened her body against the high back of the oak settle.
‘Yeah,’ he said again. ‘Cos you don’t remember nothing about what happened before, do ya?’ he said unpleasantly. ‘That’s what I heard … nothing.’
She could see every pore of his sweating, pimply face. The smell of stale tobacco was overwhelming, nauseating. Her heart was crashing in her chest, her limbs frozen in the grip of terror, the rushing sound in her ears got louder, and then she was in the darkness, blind and falling through space.
Powerful hands gripped her arms, yanking her forwards, hard. She struggled, kicking her legs and scrambling away, trying to scream but nothing came. She couldn’t breathe. Gasping and panting, she tried to wriggle free but, although the hands let go, they were immediately replaced with strong arms that encircled her, crushing her and pinning her down. At last she gathered her breath and screamed.
‘Shush,’ came a familiar voice from miles away. ‘Maddy, hush, I’m here.’
She stilled, listening, clutching onto the voice for support.
‘It’s me …’ the voice went on. ‘Maddy? It’s me. You’re safe.’
She turned her head to the sound. ‘Ben?’
‘Hello, Maddy,’ he said, more normally. Her vision cleared, and she saw the blue of his shirt, a button, a glimpse of his chest. Tilting her head up, she saw him looking down at her. His smile was warm but she could see a muscle pulsing in his jaw.
‘Are you back?’
She nodded, still trembling.
Too soon, he withdrew, setting her upright on the bench and moving away decorously, to leave a foot of space between them. Confused to see him acquire an air of professional detachment she hadn’t seen before, Maddy resisted the temptation to crawl back into the comfort of his arms.
‘What just happened?’ she whispered.
‘That’s what I’d like to know.’
‘God, Maddy, me too.’
She turned and saw Serena, wiping a tear from her eye with a hand that shook. ‘You poor darling …’ she continued, pulling out a chair and sitting heavily. ‘What did he do to you?’ she said more loudly, cocking her head in Kevin’s direction.
Kevin had retreated to a safe distance where he stood, slack-jawed, surveying the scene.
‘I didn’t do nothing,’ he said, scowling.
‘He didn’t,’ admitted Maddy. ‘He didn’t do anything … Not really.’
‘See?’ he snapped. ‘She just went mental.’ He made the universal gesture, forefinger to temple. ‘She’s mad. Mad Maddy, clue’s in the name …’
Serena flushed scarlet. ‘You should sack him. Horrible little weasel; how d
are he!’
‘Can’t afford to. It’s fine. He’s right, anyhow. What the hell just happened, Ben? I must be mad …’ Her chin trembled.
‘Not mad,’ said Ben. ‘Just overwhelmed. Strange, though, I wasn’t aware you had actual, classic flashbacks.’
‘Is that what it was?’
‘I reckon so …’
Maddy stared ahead, reliving it. ‘It was my nightmare, basically, but suddenly real. More real than something – well – real,’ she explained. ‘God, how hideous. Could it just happen again?’
‘Can’t say it won’t but I’d expect there to be some sort of trigger …’
‘There wasn’t,’ said Maddy. ‘I was just working on some photos for the website and then … as you saw … other than Kevin talking to me, nothing.’
Ben looked grim.
‘Anyway, I’m fine now,’ she said, blowing her nose on a napkin. God forbid that she had been sitting there in his arms with snot on her face.
She probably had.
‘So,’ she went on, ‘it’s an unexpected pleasure to see you both. What gives?’
‘I don’t know about him,’ said Serena, nudging Ben. ‘I just found him wandering about outside and dragged him in to keep him out of trouble, but I’ve got exciting news.’
‘I could have exciting news too,’ protested Ben.
‘No you haven’t,’ said Serena. ‘Not as exciting as mine.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Children, children,’ said Maddy. ‘Tell me.’
‘Okay. So, Giles told me you’ve got him on board, of course.’
Maddy nodded.
‘And …’ she continued, relishing the moment. ‘We’ve got this bloke in Brighton to impress double quick, cos the committee meeting for the next round of funding is coming up really soon.’
‘The funding guy?’
‘The funding guy,’ confirmed Serena happily.
‘But what about the application thingie?’
‘It’s here,’ said Serena, bringing out a sheaf of closely typed paper with the legend ‘Rural Business Development Funding Programme’ in bold at the top.
Maddy grabbed it and leafed through. ‘Cripes,’ she said. ‘We have to do all this?’
‘Yeah,’ Serena waved her hand dismissively.
‘Have you looked? It’s huge … What about this bit? “Explain in detail how your proposal answers at least four out of the eight funding criteria priorities as identified in section 3.g subsection, ii)” – what even is that?’
‘Oh, you must mean the guidance notes,’ said Serena, bringing out an even thicker sheaf of closely typed paper. ‘Here.’
Maddy groaned. ‘Look at this deadline! We’ll never get this written in time.’
‘Yeah we will. It’ll be fine.’
She groaned again.
‘It’ll be fine,’ Serena insisted. ‘Look, come up to the farm later. We can go through it together. And in any case,’ she glanced at Ben, ‘there’s something I want to show you.’
‘Not sure I can cope with any more surprises today,’ grumbled Maddy. ‘Anyhow, I don’t know when it’ll be. Mum and I have got a meeting with Patrick’s occupational therapist later. It’s about his rehab, discharge, exercise programme and all that … It’s going down like a cup of cold sick with Patrick, of course. No one’s going to tell him to eat his five a day and go jogging, but as long as he makes the right noises he should be home pretty soon.’
‘Brilliant!’ said Serena and Ben in unison.
‘And how are takings?’ said Ben.
‘Okay-ish,’ admitted Maddy.
Patrick had been demanding to see the books but, so far, she had managed to put him off. Her excuse that she had ‘forgotten’ to bring them was wearing a bit thin.
‘Is your mum going to stay a while?’ asked Serena. ‘Help him get settled in?’
‘That’s the plan, but I’m not sure how long they’ll be able to stand each other.’
‘They’re fond of each other, really, I can tell,’ said Ben.
‘Mm, we’ll see,’ said Maddy, unconvinced. ‘Still, I’ll be there too, of course.’
‘I should have thought they’ll want you out from under their feet,’ observed Serena brightly. ‘Don’t want to be all green and hairy, do you?’
‘A gooseberry? Between those two?’ said Maddy, incredulously. ‘No, honestly, you’ve both got it all wrong—’
‘Aaanyway,’ Serena cut across her, ‘you’ll not want to stay in that poky little bedroom much longer.’
‘Won’t I?’
‘Nope,’ said Serena decisively. ‘You won’t. Will you bring her, Ben?’
‘Can do,’ he said, saluting. ‘I’m supposed to be meeting Duncan but I’m free after that. I’ll pick you up from the hospital, shall I?’
‘You shall, apparently,’ Maddy said, accepting her fate.
‘Good,’ he said, standing up and grabbing his car keys. ‘It’ll give me a chance to pop in on Patrick, too.’
Waving a sketchy goodbye at the two women he ignored Kevin who stood at the bar, glaring as he left and polishing a glass with such venom it looked like he was wringing a creature’s neck.
‘Mate …’ said Duncan, filling the single word with a complex combination of genuine sympathy for his friend along with a good dose of entreaty and mild reproach.
‘I know, I know,’ Ben replied, hanging his head and staring into his pint.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Short of a DNA test … but how many married men living in Havenbury were killed in a motorbike accident at exactly that time?’
Duncan nodded. ‘Okay, fair enough. But, my God, your sister?’
‘Half-sister.’
‘And she’s twenty-five, you say?’
Ben nodded.
‘And your dad was killed when … ?’
‘Nearly twenty-six years ago. I was seven,’ said Ben, swigging his pint gloomily.
‘So, you and Maddy, you haven’t … ?’
‘No! Thank goodness …’
‘Mate … Are you going to tell her?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Ben. ‘I don’t think I should, not at the moment. She’s really not in a good place, which brings me to my next point. I’ve been trying to get her to accept help. It was a promise to Patrick but now – obviously – she’s my own flesh and blood. I’ve got to help her deal with this thing or it’s going to be,’ he swallowed, ‘well, the risk is it’s going to be like Andrew all over again, isn’t it?’
‘Mate, for even more reasons than before, you’re the last one who should be helping her.’ He thought for a few minutes. ‘Is she a good subject? Suggestible?’
‘I reckon so,’ he said. ‘I’ve tried a bit of “right place, right time”… She’s pretty suggestible, although she doesn’t know it.’
‘Might just be because it’s you.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Look,’ said Duncan at last. ‘Get her in front of me. She can be my patient. You’re there as a friend only, okay?’
‘You’ll do it?’
‘’Course.’
‘Now all I have to do is persuade her,’ said Ben.
‘If things are getting as bad as you say, you might want to get on it, mate.’
The occupational therapist was called Julie.
‘He’s a one, that Patrick,’ she said, blushing. ‘We’ll be sorry to see him go.’
‘I bet you won’t,’ muttered Helen. ‘And if you think he’s bad in here you should see what he’s going to be like when he gets home. I don’t know how on earth you think you’re going to get him to do all this rehab stuff you’re talking about. This mutual support group thing, sitting around drinking tea and comparing heart attacks – I mean, are you sure? I feel sorry for the others.’
‘Oh, we get all sorts,’ said Julie. ‘Heart attacks are no respecters of people. He might even enjoy it. Anyway, you say he runs a pub; I’m assuming that means he’s pretty sociable … ?’
�
�On his own terms, he might be.’
‘Well,’ said Julie brightly. ‘He’s got you to take care of him and make sure he’s making the right choices, hasn’t he?’
‘If he does what I tell him that’ll be a first,’ muttered Helen to Maddy, but she allowed Julie to hand her a sheaf of papers and leaflets, with titles like ‘Eating for Heart Health’ and ‘Getting Back to Exercise’.
‘Yikes,’ said Maddy, spotting the one called ‘Sex for the Over Sixties’, as they walked down the corridor to the cardiac ward. ‘He’s not supposed to be doing that as part of his rehab too, is he?’
‘People over the age of forty do occasionally have sex, you know.’
‘Yeah, but … ew … not Patrick. It’d be like thinking of your parents doing it.’
Helen stiffened. ‘You really are something else,’ she laughed. ‘I suppose you think I don’t have a sex life either?’
‘I know you must have done it once, to get me, but I’m assuming that was it. Please tell me it was.’
Helen smacked Maddy on the head with the leaflets, just as Ben came out of the ward.
‘Woah,’ he said. ‘Maternal violence. You ready to pick up Patrick?’
‘He’s been discharged?’ squeaked Helen. ‘I’ve still got stuff to get ready,’ she said, waving the leaflets.
‘Oh, right …’ said Ben. ‘I popped in to see him before I came to find you. Apparently he’s told them all you might as well take him home now seeing as you’re coming in.’
‘That sounds like him.’ Helen clicked her tongue disapprovingly, but a little smile leaked out. ‘We might pop down by the river for a coffee on the way home.’
‘That’s that settled, then,’ agreed Ben. ‘Shall we?’ he added, holding out an arm to shepherd Maddy away.
‘Serena’s little surprise?’ asked Maddy. ‘I don’t know now, maybe with Patrick coming out …’ she looked at Helen. ‘You’ll need me to help get him settled in.’
‘Nonsense,’ she replied. ‘Off you go and have fun.’
‘Okay, well I’ll just pop in and say hello.’
‘You’ll be seeing him back at home soon enough,’ said Ben. ‘Let them have their moment.’