No Place to Hide (26 page)

The worst part of it was that they could see no end to it, unless, please God, when the time came for his trial he was sent to prison.

After dropping Lula at the village hall, Justine made her way along the high street, calling into the hairdresser’s to make an appointment for Abby, and on to the deli, where Maddy and Cheryl, with the backup of two part-timers, were serving breakfasts. The smell of grilling bacon and freshly ground coffee made her tummy rumble with hunger, while the sound of “Hippy Hippy Shake” in the background might, at another time, have had her shimmying playfully over to the counter. As it was she walked to where Wesley was whispering something in his mother’s ear, and the way Gina laughed wrenched painfully at Justine’s heart.

If only she could have the same easygoing relationship with Ben.

It will happen, one day. It has to.

“Hi, how are you?” Gina said with a smile as she spotted Justine. “Looks like it’s going to be a scorcher again today.”

After kissing her and Wes on both cheeks, Justine said, “You’re in early. I thought you weren’t starting until twelve.”

“My son has offered to buy me a coffee,” Gina informed her, her eyes shining with irony, “and who am I to refuse?”

“Except I forgot to bring my wallet,” Wes confessed, “so now Mum has to pay.”

“Isn’t that always the way,” Gina sighed. “Have you got a moment to join us?” she asked Justine.

Though Justine would have liked to, she and Cheryl had arranged to spend the morning going through a list of potential new suppliers, so after assuring them someone would deliver their order to the table, she went through to the back room.

Though she wasn’t feeling faint, exactly, she was aware of needing to sit down for a moment, and since no one was around she tucked herself in behind a desk and rested her head in her hands. She must be reacting to the heat, she decided, or more likely to the fact that she couldn’t actually remember when she’d last eaten.

It must have been yesterday morning, before she’d become aware of raised voices in the vale and gone outside to investigate.

Since she’d come in at the tail end of the scene she had no idea what it was actually about, or even how it had started, she only knew that Ben was in front of the farmhouse, fists clenched, teeth bared like an animal’s as Connor yelled up the hill, “You’re a fucking loser, McQuillan, a sad little tosser who’s on his way to jail.”

“Come here and say that, you cowardly piece of shit,” Ben yelled back.

“No way am I going to contaminate myself coming near you,” Connor shouted. “We’ve heard about all the diseases you carry.” Grinning, he looked to the group around him for approval.

Realizing, with a sickening lurch, that he was surrounded by Abby, Wes, and Chantal, Justine moved toward Ben. “Come in,” she said softly. “Don’t get involved.”

He wasn’t listening. He was boiling with fury and so tensed up she was afraid to touch him.

Down the hill Connor said something to the others, and everyone laughed.

Afraid of what Ben might do if Connor goaded him any further, Justine said, “They’re not worth it. Come inside.”

“Psycho boy,” Connor sang out.

Ben’s eyes glinted with an almost sadistic pleasure. “That’s right,” he growled, “and don’t you forget it,
faggot
boy.”

“Psycho boy, psycho boy,” Connor chanted as Ben retreated into the house.

Justine glared down the hill at him. “Don’t you
children
have anything better to do?” she shouted.

“Come on, Mum, he started it,” Abby shouted back.

Not prepared to get into a showdown with her daughter for everyone to witness, Justine followed Ben inside. Unsurprisingly, there was no sign of him downstairs, so she ran up to his room and knocked on the door. “Ben, it’s me.”

He roared so loudly at her to go away that she actually took a step back.

Accepting that he needed time to calm down, she took herself over to the kitchen barn to carry on with the recipes she was preparing for the deli, and to call Matt on his mobile. Since he was at the arboretum with Lula and Rosie where there was never a good signal, she left him a message to call back when he could.

“So where is he now?” Matt asked when they finally connected.

“Still in his room. The door’s locked, as usual.”

With a sigh of dismay, Matt said, “Abby must have told the others about his court case. How else would Connor know?”

“It could have been Wes, if Simon mentioned it to him.”

“I don’t think he would have, but there again…I wish I knew what to say to you, Justine, how to make some sort of difference, but you’re as aware as I am that we have no power over the boy. He’s proving it to us all the time, so what’s the point in trying to help him when he clearly doesn’t want it?”

“But he must
want
to be here, at least on some level, otherwise he’d surely just go.”

“Would he? Maybe it’s just too much fun tormenting his parents and terrorizing his sisters.”

Hating how bitter he sounded, she said, “I’m sorry I rang you now.”

“Yes, I’m sorry too, because I really don’t know what you want me to do about this spat with Connor.”

Since there wasn’t anything he could do without running the risk of some unholy eruption from Ben, Justine let it go. What was the point of getting involved? It was over now; the kids themselves had probably already moved on from it, so she should too. On the other hand, why let that ghastly Connor get away with his taunting and stirring? He was always trying to cause trouble, and the way he seemed to have enjoyed the upset made him every bit as despicable as his mother evidently found Ben. In fact, the only reason she didn’t give in to the urge to go over there and treat Melanie Sands to a piece of her mind was because Melanie was still recovering from a “delicate” operation that apparently hadn’t gone terribly well.

And because Ben informed her, when she told him through the door that she’d take the matter further if he wanted her to, that if she did he’d set fire to the house.

“You know you don’t mean that,” she protested, “so why do you—”

“Fuck off!” he growled. “I’m busy and you’re getting on my nerves.”

“Busy doing what?” Matt demanded when she reported back.

“How on earth would I know?”

“And why on earth would we care?”

Still half afraid there might be listening devices planted around the house, Justine said, “I admit he makes it difficult, but…”

“Difficult? I’d call it downright impossible, and frankly I’m sick to death of the way he’s coming between
us
. We never have a conversation about anything else these days. I can’t remember the last time we went out, or felt able to have anyone round, or even managed to make love, we’re always so damned worked up or exhausted from dealing with him. He’s destroying our lives, and I’m telling you this now—if they don’t end up sending him to prison so we can start living normal lives again, then I won’t want to be held responsible for my actions.”

Now, as Justine sat in the back room of the deli, feeling shaken all over again by Matt’s words, she tried using the tenderness he’d shown her later when they
had
made love, to force them from her mind. She knew how torn, desperate and frustrated he was; she also knew what a gentle and kind man he was at heart. He’d never do anything to hurt Ben, or anyone else, come to that; he just needed to let off steam now and again, and there was no one apart from her to let it off to.

Picturing him at the desk in his study, she picked up the phone and dialed his number. “Are you OK?” she whispered when he answered.

“Sure. Are you?” he replied.

“Of course. I just dropped Lula off.” She almost asked if there was any sign of Ben, but decided not to. “Is Abby still there?”

“I believe she’s on her way to the deli with Chantal and Nelly.”

“I thought Nelly was working at the kennels today.” Nelly’s vocation had changed this past year—she now wanted to be a vet rather than a doctor. “Don’t tell me Abby got her to change shifts.”

“Probably, knowing Abby. Apparently they’re about to prevail upon you for a picnic to have by the brook while they continue their meeting.”

“Just as long as that dreadful Connor’s not with them.”

“All I can tell you is that he wasn’t when they left here.”

Ben’s name continued to hang unspoken between them. In the end Matt mentioned him first.

“We need to decide what we’re going to do about him while we’re in Italy.”

Justine, Matt, and Lula were due to leave in a couple of weeks with Simon and Gina, Rob and Maggie, and Cheryl—Brad had better things to do, apparently. They’d expected the other children to do their own things now they were older, but it turned out that Abby, Wes, Chantal, and Francine had decided they wanted to come too. It was only Ben who hadn’t given them an answer, and like Matt, Justine desperately hoped he wouldn’t want to come when he’d be sure to spoil the holiday. However, the thought of leaving him behind, and what he might do to the house while they were gone, made her blood run cold.

Maybe they should cancel the trip.

“He’s a problem without a solution,” Matt murmured.

Though she didn’t like hearing it, Justine could hardly argue. “I should go,” she said. “I’ll see you in a couple of hours,” and putting the phone down she turned on the computer ready to start work.

—

It was just after midday when they heard the first police siren wailing past. Since it wasn’t unusual for an emergency vehicle to tear along the high street, Justine and Cheryl barely looked up from what they were doing. It was only when a second siren was followed by a third and a fourth that curiosity got the better of them—and the first stirrings of unease crept into Justine’s heart.

Trying to convince herself this had nothing to do with Ben, she followed Cheryl into the deli to find it half empty as customers and staff piled into the street to watch even more police cars flying past.

“What’s going on?” Cheryl asked one of the part-timers.

“No idea,” came the reply.

Justine felt distinctly strange as she began pushing through the crowd.

Everyone was asking the same questions: “What’s happening? Where are they going?”

Someone said, “It must be the housing estate.”

Someone else said, “No, they’re turning into the vale.”

Justine started to run. Her heart was pounding, her breath hardly coming as she forced her way past more crowds knotted outside the florist, the baker’s, the gift shop.

“…madman suddenly…”

“…gone berserk.”

“…accident…”

“…still on the loose…”

“…heard screaming…”

She kept going, arms pumping, legs burning as she charged into the vale. The shock of so many police cars below, so much chaos filling the valley halted her like a punch. This wasn’t real. If she closed her eyes it would all go away.

It didn’t.

She pressed on, past the workers’ cottages, the kitchen showroom…Other people were running; she had no idea who they were, could barely even see them.

“You can’t go down there,” someone cried, trying to grab her.

She shoved them away and tore on. It was as though an angry river was gushing between her and reality. She couldn’t think, couldn’t feel, couldn’t hear, could only run.

She saw men, police officers, lying on the ground in the park, guns aimed toward a tree.

Someone grabbed at her again and forced her to stop. Two women in uniform.

“I have to get through,” she gasped.

“I’m sorry, no one’s going in there.”

“What’s happened? Please…”

“We haven’t been told anything yet.”

More officers were clearing the way for other vehicles to get through. Police tape was strung across the entrance to the park, and a loudspeaker was telling everyone to stay back.

“Abby!” Justine shouted in panic. “Oh my God, my God…Please…”

As the officers tried to turn her around she spotted Matt through the chaos, slumped on the ground at the bottom of their hill, his head in his hands.

“Matt!” she yelled. “Matt!”

When he didn’t look up a terrible, stultifying fear engulfed her.

Tearing herself free, she ran toward him, but she was caught again, this time by a man who clutched her to him, pinning her arms to her sides and turning her away from the park.

“Please, that’s my husband over there,” she begged.

“Get those tents up,” someone shouted.

“Suspect’s apprehended.”

“Five down.”

“For God’s sake, clear the area.”

“That’s my husband,” she repeated. “I need to get to him.”

“Sorry,” the officer responded, pushing her back the way she’d come, “no one’s allowed beyond this point.”

“Let me go!” she screamed, and thrusting him aside, she charged with a superhuman effort toward Matt.

Once again she was stopped, and as someone spun her round she stumbled to the ground. She tried to get up, but her legs were too weak. Then she saw Ben, his head down, his hands trapped behind him as he was pushed into the back of a police car.

“No,” she sobbed, “no, no, no!” She couldn’t allow the horror of these new suspicions to take root—
they must not become real
.

“Madam, you need to get up.”

“What’s happened?” she begged as she was helped to her feet. “Please tell me…”

The policeman wasn’t listening as he tried to push her back to the gathering crowd. She strained to look over her shoulder, calling for Matt. A gap opened in the glade and she caught sight of Simon, on his knees, holding someone in his arms. His shoulders were shaking, and she realized he was crying, sobbing, howling in pain.

She tried to call out, but her voice had gone. The madness, the disbelief were so great that the world seemed to be dissolving into a dense, suffocating fog. She tried to breathe, but there was no air. She pushed herself forward again.

“I have to get through,” someone was sobbing beside her. “You don’t understand, my daughter is in there.” It was Cheryl, desperate to get to Chantal.

“Connor,” Melanie Sands was screaming. “Connor, are you there? Please answer me.”