I've Been Watching You: a stunning crime thriller from The North East Police Series (15 page)

‘You and your aunt seem close. Have you always lived with her?’ Jacob sat at the well-loved table in the kitchen nursing his tea. He got the impression from her absence and by Aoife’s guarded comments that there was something he didn’t know about Ben, and not normally intrusive, he had a feeling it was something he needed to know.

‘Pretty much. My mum and dad died in a car accident when I was ten. Aoife took me in, she raised me. I moved away for a short time years ago, but came back when I fell pregnant.’

Ben was doing her best to keep her nerves at bay, having him here, in her home, made it feel as though the walls of the large kitchen were closing in on her. She felt a little like she was suffocating.
That’s just the nerves talking. You calm yourself down right now – this man is a nice guy, he does not need to see you in the middle of a panic attack. Breathe.

‘Are you OK? You’ve gone a little pale.’

His words barely penetrated the mist now swirling in front of her eyes. She tried to focus on Grace’s face, the way she had been taught. But it eluded her, mingling with the swirling as her breath hitched and seemed to stop in her throat. Panic now. She couldn’t breathe; felt black curtains threatening to close in on her from the sides of her vision.

Jacob recognised the symptoms immediately. In the hospital after his return, many of the soldiers had panic attacks, a result of the sudden change from foreign lands and threats to relative normality, and the time to actually allow the memories of what they’d seen to enter their minds. He got to his feet, cursing the stiffness in his leg, and grimaced as he kneeled in front of her. He took her face in his hands, looking into her eyes, and spoke slowly, calmly. He mentioned Grace and Aoife’s names several times, keeping his tone neutral, none threatening.

Ben tried to grab hold of something solid in her mind, one thing that could pull her from this haze and calm her pounding heart. The image of Grace was still swirling around, giggling a hairs breadth from her grasp. The suddenly there was something solid, a set of grey eyes looking like islands in the middle of the ocean, and she grabbed hold of them, concentrating as they drew her in. She felt her breathing start to slow, saw the mist start to unfurl and slowly disappear. And as her eyes eventually refocused, she realised Jacob was knelt in front of her, felt the warmth of his hands on her cheeks. He kept talking for a couple of minutes, helping her keep focussed enough to calm herself.

‘How did you do that?’ she finally asked, her voice a quiet whisper. ‘Nobody’s ever managed to calm me down before when I’ve had one that bad. I normally have to pull myself out of it. Or be sedated, whichever works.’

‘In the hospital when I returned from Afghanistan, there were a lot of guys holding a lot of memories. Normal life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, especially when you’ve seen war first hand. Sometimes it would get too much and the panic would set in. I was in there for quite a long time, I’d watch the nurses calm people and eventually I was the only one in the room when a guy called Paul started to panic. I couldn’t leave him like that. I just did what I’d seen the nurses do is all.’

His voice was still calm, neutral even, but his leg was starting to throb. He couldn’t help but grimace as a wave of cramp passed through his thigh.

‘I need to get up. Would you mind helping me to my feet? My leg has seized.’ His teeth were gritting together as pain pulsed through the top of his leg.

Ben stood, then bent beside him, offering him her shoulder for support. He gasped as his leg straightened and the pain ebbed to a high dose of pins and needles. Still leaning on her for support, he flexed and bent his leg, his face taut as eventually it returned to its relatively normal state.

As he sat back down, he glanced up at Ben.

‘Does it happen often? The panic attacks?’

Just as Ben was about to answer, the kitchen door opened and a sleepy four year old walked in.

‘Mammy, I’m thirsty,’ she grumbled, rubbing her tired eyes. They widened as she saw Jacob sat at the table. Curious now, and suddenly much more awake, she wandered round the table and stood in front of him, looking up at him.

‘What’s your name?’ she asked, holding her hand out solemnly for him to shake. He hid a grin as he shook her hand.

‘Jacob. And you must be Grace.’

She nodded, then added, ‘Why are you in our house?’

Startled he looked at Ben.

She was smiling widely. Deciding to intervene, she stood and grabbed hold of Grace, spinning her in a big circle, causing her to gasp and loudly say, ‘Mammy, put me down!’

‘You, young lady, are out of bed when you’re supposed to be in it. Jacob is a friend of Mammy’s. Another day you can talk to him properly but right now, it’s time for you to go back to bed.’ She kissed Grace on the end of her nose and lowered her back down to the floor. Ben poured a small cup of juice and took her daughters hand.

‘I’ll be back in a second, I’ll just go put her back down.’

‘I’ll take her,’ said Aoife suddenly from the doorway. She smiled innocently at Ben and Jacob, holding her hand out for Grace who skipped over.

‘Will you read me another story, Aunty Aoife? I’m not very tired,’ asked Grace hopefully as she was led back into the hall. Ben didn’t hear her aunts answer, but she knew it would be a while before Aoife came back down the stairs.

‘You know she’s been outside the door for ages, right?’ groaned Ben with a shrug of her shoulders.

Jacob felt his mouth curve in response. ‘Yeah, she sure has. She’s just worried about you I guess. Doesn’t want you to get hurt. Mums are like that.’

Ben smiled back, acknowledging silently his meaningful slip. Aoife had always acted like her mother, and though she sometimes missed her parents, she was always grateful her aunt had been there to step up.

‘Would you like another tea? Maybe a glass of wine?’ asked Ben. She was surprised to realise she suddenly felt more at ease with him being there, the kitchen stretching back to its normal size and any residual panic ebbing back into the recesses of her mind.

‘Tea would be great thanks.’ Jacob also felt more relaxed, settling back into the chair and stretching his leg out in front of him. There was definitely something about learning about each other that promoted comfort.

‘So, panic attacks?’ asked Jacob, as his hands closed round the cup minutes later.

Ben frowned, her head cocking to one side.

Can I do this? I barely know him. I never tell anyone about this stuff. Even Cass doesn’t know and she’s pretty much my best friend.

Acknowledging silently that she’d been building up to it provided her with some comfort. She’d told two people about the support group in the last week, which in itself was almost unheard of.

She pushed her emotion aside, and answered. ‘Eight years ago I was raped.’

Jacob leaned back in his chair. ‘I’m sorry, Ben. I shouldn’t have asked.’

‘Actually, it’s fine. It’s not something that generally comes up in conversation; in fact, it’s not something I tend to tell people at all. Even Cass doesn’t know, and she’s practically my best friend. But maybe it’s time to start telling people. I’ve only ever discussed it with Aoife, and my counsellor of course. But part of healing is accepting, and that’s the thing I’ve always had trouble with.’

‘Well if you don’t want to tell me you don’t have to. I don’t want to push you into it. It’s your story, only you can decide if you’re ready.’

‘I was twenty one. I’d moved out and was living in Durham city and working for the police down there. I used to run, not that you’d know that by looking at me now.’ Ben’s voice held a hint of nostalgia, almost as though it was a happier time. And it had been. At twenty one, the world couldn’t touch you, you were invincible. Until the world
did
touch you anyway, then it all changed. ‘It was late and I’d been running on one of the roads outside the city centre. Don’t know if you know Durham, but it’s pretty unique. A large bustling city, then all of a sudden there’s rural farm land everywhere.’

At his nod, she continued. ‘Anyway, it was dark and as I turned the bend I saw a man lying unconscious, just beyond the gate to a field. I stopped and asked if he was OK.’

Pausing, she frowned. ‘You know I must’ve been pretty damn stupid. What kind of woman stops to check on someone when it’s dark and you’re in the middle of nowhere? It’s the stuff horror movies are made of.’

‘You’re not stupid. You cared was all.’

Jacobs reply was swift, and she gave him a sad smile in response.

Her mind flooded with a melee of thoughts:
It almost feels normal to be discussing this with him, for the first time it’s like I’m just talking about something that happened, not something that’s still happening.

Ben took in a deep breath and carried on. ‘I didn’t see the knife until it was too late. He jumped up, and stabbed me in the stomach. I remember thinking that it couldn’t really be happening, that I must be dreaming. He tied my hands, and I screamed. At least I think I did. He put tape over my mouth and dragged me further into the field, out of view of the road.’

Jacob’s heart almost stopped beating. He didn’t know if she realised how matter of fact she sounded, but her story had him hypnotised.
How does someone go through that and come out normal at the other end?

‘I don’t actually remember a lot about the rape itself. It’s like it all melded into one action. I remember the pain and knowing I was going to die. My stomach was already burning, and I was so scared. I just kept thinking that when he was done, maybe he’d let me go. When he got off me, he wouldn’t stop staring. I’ll never forget his eyes. Even in the moonlight I could see them. They were empty, like I was looking into a black hole.’

Ben’s voice had lowered to a whisper, and her eyes were troubled.

‘You don’t have to say anymore, Ben.’ Jacob had his hand on her thigh as he looked at her, tortured and caught in the memory while trying to stay detached enough to talk.

‘I want to. I need to. There has to come a day when I can talk about this without feeling this way right?’

‘I dunno, Ben. Sometimes it’s harder to remember. Sometimes it’s better just to
not
remember.’

She inhaled deeply, putting her hand on top of his. Her connection to the real world re-established, she focussed on telling the rest. ‘When he was done, he … hurt me. Left me for dead. And I would have been too, if it hadn’t been for the farmer. It was just starting to get light, and I remember hearing the sound of a tractor. The farmer thought I was dead, but I think I must have groaned or something `cos he almost fell over then covered me with his jacket and told me he was getting help. I think I passed out at that point. Aoife said I was unconscious for six days. They didn’t catch him.’

Ben finally breathed a soft sigh of relief. It hadn’t been as bad this time. It had taken her months to tell her counsellor, Amelia Griffiths. Talking on the forum was different. It was anonymous. But in counselling she’d had her doubts that she’d ever be able to tell it all. She frowned again, remembering the things she hadn’t said. She’d made no mention to Amelia about the scars. Only Aoife knew about those. Criss-cross marks across both her breasts, the smaller straight scars from the knife wounds, the faint bite marks on her shoulders. Sometimes the scars were harder to think about than the actual rape.

She took in a steadying breath and made eye-contact with Jacob. He looked troubled, shocked and a little green around the gills. Preparing for the rest of the conversation, she silently got up and put the kettle back on. More tea was definitely required.

8
^th
June, 2350 hours – O’Byrne residence, Sunderland

As Jacob said his goodbyes at the door, he felt completely drained. He was pleased she trusted him enough to tell him her story, but at the same time what she’d been through beggared belief. Not that he doubted it had happened, but that kind of stuff happened to
victims
, and the last thing that he would ever have thought Ben was, was a victim.

He surprised himself by leaning in and kissing her on the cheek while they stood on the front porch. It had seemed like the right thing to do, and she had smiled at him in response. He could see how tired she was, how much it had taken out of her to control her emotion as she’d told him.

Jacob raised his hand, giving her a wave as he started the engine and pulled away from the house. Now out of view, he frowned.

She trusted me. She told me all of that despite the fact it must have hurt her like hell to do it.

Anger simmered beneath the surface. They’d never caught the bastard. He knew if he ever got his hands on him, he wouldn’t be quite so in control of his emotions.

He had some thinking to do and when he got home he set his music away and stretched before plugging in the settings on the treadmill.

8
^th
June, 2355 hours – O’Byrne residence, Sunderland

‘You told him.’ Aoife’s voice was matter of fact as she sat on the sofa looking up at Ben.

Ben nodded silently, and plonked herself down on the couch next to her aunt. ‘I didn’t even cry. It’s the first time I’ve told anyone other than you. I thought it would be harder.’

Aoife moved position, and pulled Ben’s head onto her shoulder. Ben shifted and snuggled in, for a moment remembering how her aunt used to do that on the chair she now used for Grace.

Planting a kiss on her forehead, Aoife said, ‘Sometimes you don’t realise the specific moment you start to deal with something horrible like what happened to you. You just do, and then it becomes easier to accept. I’ve seen small changes in you over the last year. You’ve grown more confident, it’s only natural to believe that as you’ve grown into this wonderful, beautiful person, the bad stuff has eased.’