No Place to Hide (25 page)

Before she could speak, he said, “I heard you talking about me downstairs.” His tone was so cold and aggressive that it snapped the bond like a useless stick. “Save yourself the bother of calling Wesley or Chantal to the rescue. He’s just a moron and she’s a slag.”

“Don’t say that, Ben. You and Chantal were always so close, and if—”

“She’s with Connor now,” he cut in viciously, “just like Dad’s with Hayley. You have to get used to these things, move with the times.”

Justine hardly knew what to say. She was reminding herself that this was what he did—played games with the mind, tied people up in knots, got them believing things that weren’t true. And this wasn’t the first time he’d taunted her with her old insecurity about Hayley.

“Come on, Mum, you know really, so stop pretending.”

“Why are you doing this?” she whispered. “What’s happened to you…?”

He pointed at Lula. “
That’
s what happened to me,” he told her.

Justine’s arms tightened around her daughter. “Don’t talk about her that way,” she protested. “She understands.”

“She’s a freak. No kids her age speak the way she does, or—”

“Ben, stop this now. I’m doing my best with you, I swear. You mean more to me than I can ever put into words, but…”

“
But.
There’s always a but, isn’t there,
Mum
?
B
is for Ben and
B
is for but. It would all be OK but for Ben.”

She regarded him helplessly, this stranger, this precious, beloved son whom she adored, misunderstood, and feared.

“It’s all Dad’s fault, you know that, don’t you?” he stated.

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I wouldn’t be like this if he hadn’t dropped me on my head when I was a kid.”

Realizing he must have overheard her and Matt talking, so he knew this was Matt’s worst fear, she said, “Do you have some sort of listening device set up around the house?”

He simply shrugged, which might have been a confirmation, she couldn’t be sure. “I want a car,” he announced, as if that were the most natural way for the conversation to proceed.

“You can’t even drive,” she reminded him.

“That’s what you think.”

“Who—who taught you to drive?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

The truth was she probably wouldn’t.

“Abby got a car when she was eighteen, so I should have one too.”

“She’d passed her test by then, and you know very well that Grandma Camilla bought it for her.”

“So, let Grandma Camilla buy one for me.”

“Why would she when you never go to see her?”

“Nor does Abby.”

“Abby spent the whole of Easter in London doing work experience on Grandma Camilla’s TV program.”

“So she gets a car for sucking up.”

“She gets a car because she can drive and she deserves one.”

“So you’re saying I don’t.”

“What do you think?”

“What I think is if you want that thing there to become three, you’ll get me a car.” And with a jaunty lift of his eyebrows he turned and walked away.

—

Matt’s face turned white when Justine repeated the conversation. “We have to get him out of the house,” he stated furiously. “I’m not putting up with that sort of blackmail, much less the threats he keeps throwing at his sisters. Enough’s enough.”

Though Justine didn’t disagree, she knew it wasn’t going to be easy for either of them, telling him he had to go. And could she really do it? Could she actually watch her son walk away, not knowing where he was going, when or if she’d ever see him again? He’d end up getting even more involved with drugs and alcohol, possibly even crime. What earthly good could ever come of it?

“Justine, I don’t know the answers,” Matt cried in despair. “God knows we’ve tried to find them, we’re driving ourselves out of our minds trying to help him, but we have to face it, he doesn’t want our help. He doesn’t even want to be part of our family.”

“I know he says that, but he doesn’t mean it.”

“Are you sure?”

No, she wasn’t, but neither could she convince herself that leaving their son to the mercy of the streets and whatever lowlifes he was already involved with was the right thing to do.

They were walking across the field beyond the orchard, keeping to open land so they’d know if he was following. Not that he’d ever shadowed them on a walk before, or if he had they were unaware of it, much like they were unaware of any devices he might have planted around the house. They still hadn’t found any, so perhaps they didn’t exist, but he knew so much, always seemed to be a step ahead of them, had everything he needed to ridicule or torment them.

“I know this is going to sound crazy,” Justine began cautiously, “but do you think we should talk to the vicar about him? Or the priest at the Catholic church?”

She half expected Matt to laugh, but for a long time he didn’t say anything, making her wonder if he’d even heard her. In the end, he said, “We can’t even get him to respond to a psychologist, so I don’t think there’s much chance of him sitting down with a cleric, especially when we’ve never been a religious family.” He glanced at her. “Was that your mother’s suggestion, by any chance?”

She nodded.

“So you’ve been talking to her about him?”

“Abby told her what was going on, so she rings now and again to find out if things are any better. For all her…idiosyncratic ways, I think she cares.”

Not taking issue with that in a way he might have done a while ago, he asked, “What else does she suggest, apart from an exorcism?”

Justine didn’t smile. “She didn’t actually say that.”

“But it was what she meant.”

“You’re putting words in her mouth. What she actually said was that we might all benefit from some spiritual guidance.”

“Because she, God-fearing Christian that she is…”

“Matt, she’s trying to help.”

After a few moments, he said, “Did she have any other suggestions?”

“Not really, but she says we shouldn’t blame ourselves.”

“Oh, that’s helpful.”

“Please don’t be sarcastic.”

“So who does she think we should blame? He’s our son, just like Abby’s our daughter, and let’s be frank, I’m not sure we’ve done a brilliant job with her either.”

“Matt, stop…”

“It’s true, Justine. She might not have
all
the same character defects as Ben, thank God, but she’s not always a nice person. She’s bossy, far too pleased with herself, vain, pompous, jealous of Lula…”

“Stop! I’m not listening to any more of this. Tearing our children to shreds isn’t going to help them, or us.”

“Maybe not, but for your mother to say that we shouldn’t blame ourselves is like offering us a way to absolve ourselves of a responsibility that couldn’t possibly belong to anyone else. Which actually about fits the ticket with her, given that she never assumed much responsibility for you and Rob.”

“That’s not fair. She might not have been as hands-on as your mother, but she was always there for us when we needed her. OK, not in the same way as yours was for you, but everyone’s different, and let’s not forget if it weren’t for her we’d never have been able to buy the farmhouse. She made that dream come true for us.”

“All right, I hear what you’re saying, but let’s forget the church thing, OK? It’s not only barmy, it’d be sure to alienate him even further, though perhaps God is the only one who knows how that might be possible.”

As it was starting to get dark by now they turned back toward home, each with their own thoughts and fears, most already shared, but some yet to be spoken. It was as if voicing them might in some way give life to them, and they already had more than enough to cope with. Besides, it wasn’t as if Justine believed their house was in some bizarre, paranormal way connected to their misfortune. It couldn’t possibly be true. They’d had far too many happy times there to start thinking now that it was capable of pouring some erstwhile dormant malevolence into one sole member of their family.

—

It was little more than a week later that Simon rang to let them know that Ben was in custody for stealing a car.

The point was immediately taken: if they weren’t going to buy him a car he’d help himself to one.

He was released the following morning on bail, and a few days later they were told that no charge was going to be brought. Whether or not Simon had a hand in that they had no idea, nor did they ask.

Ben wasn’t so lucky a couple of weeks later when he was caught breaking into a warehouse on the edge of town.

“He wasn’t alone,” Simon solemnly informed them. “He was arrested with three others, scumbags every one of them.”

Justine blanched. “You know the others?”

“Not personally, but they’ve all done time, and chances are they’re about to do more.”

“What about Ben? Will he?” Maybe life would be easier with him in prison; at least they’d know where he was and he wouldn’t be causing all this upset at home.

What a dreadful thing for a mother to think,
Justine told herself.

“I don’t know,” Simon replied. “It’s a first offense, and given his age…”

“Where is he now?”

“In a police cell. He’s due before the magistrate tomorrow. The others are sure to be remanded in custody. As for Ben…”

“Is there a chance they’ll send him somewhere for psychological tests?” Justine broke in desperately. They needed help from someone, and were willing to accept anything from anyone.

Simon shook his head gravely. “I’m afraid there are a lot worse kids out there than him,” he replied, “most with a string of convictions under their belts, and even they aren’t getting the backup they need. And with this being Ben’s first offense, there’s no way I can see him being singled out for special attention.”

Though she’d expected no less, Justine still felt crushed. There was something desperately wrong with their son, everyone knew it, and it seemed they were powerless to help him—unless he was willing to help himself, and he’d never shown any signs of wanting to engage with that.

Simon said to Matt, “Will you go to the hearing?”

Matt’s reply was a long time in coming. “I’ll go,” he said, “but only to tell him he no longer has a home with us.”

“Matt!” Justine cried.

“I’m sorry, my mind’s made up,” he declared, and before she could argue any further he walked away.

True to his word, Matt went to the court in the morning, and when Ben was released on bail he handed him a bag of clothes and an envelope containing money. “You’re on your own now,” he informed him. “We’ve tried with you, but there’s no more we can do.”

Ben looked startled, almost worried. “You mean you’re chucking me out?” he cried, covering his surprise—or maybe it was hurt—with a scornful laugh.

Matt didn’t answer. He simply turned on his heel and walked away.

By the time he got home Justine had received a call. “Dad refused to give me a lift,” he told her, “so I’m getting the bus, and if I were you I’d let me in when I get there, because I can promise you this, it won’t go well for anyone if you don’t.”

The day everything changed forever in Chippingly Vale began with no indication of what was to come, no signs that this day was going to be set apart from all others. It was simply a typical early August morning with a warm, coppery sunlight burnishing the vale, dew sparkling on the grass, and the sky overhead a tranquil cloudless blue.

It was just before nine when Justine set out to take Lula to playgroup, leaving Rosie to settle down with Matt in the study as she usually did while Lula was out, and Abby in the kitchen making lists of everything that needed organizing for the summer disco, a task she’d taken over from Matt a couple of years ago. Being Abby, she’d turned the event into a mini-concert, though she wasn’t the only performer this year; in fact she seemed almost as excited by the other acts she’d invited from around the region as she was about taking the stage herself. As usual, her able-bodied committee, Chantal, Nelly, Wesley, and Connor, were on board for the event, and Neil joined in where he was able between his chemo appointments and the downtime that followed.

Today was a good day, so he’d be with them.

Ben never joined in, other than to ridicule their efforts, or to blast out his heavy metal sounds while they were trying to rehearse.

Justine knew he was in his room this morning, since he’d told her to eff the hell off when she’d knocked. As this had become his stock response when someone in the family tried to make contact with him, it hadn’t surprised her, or even offended her particularly, it had simply made her feel more depressed than ever.

In fact, lately she’d begun to feel the same way as Abby and Matt, who wished he’d leave home and never even bother to visit. However, in spite of clearly detesting them all, he never showed any signs of wanting to move out. Instead, he came and went as he pleased, using the house like a hotel, his mother as some sort of maid, and his father as a bank. It was as though he was holding them all for ransom, threatening all kinds of terrible revenge if they didn’t give him what he wanted. Although Matt fought with him constantly, sometimes violently, Justine knew he’d never run the risk of Ben doing something to hurt Abby or Lula, or her, so it was always Ben who won in the end.