by Cross, Amy
“Great,” Tom said, turning and hurrying away. “Don't be down!” he called back to him. “You've still got loads to live for, even if it doesn't seem that way right now!”
“I -” Pausing, Bob watched as Tom disappeared around the corner, and finally he was left standing along in the town square. Looking around, he felt for a moment as if he was all alone in the town where he'd lived his whole life. Taking his phone from his pocket, he tried to switch it on so he could call Candy, but after a moment he found that the damn thing was broken.
***
“Oh my God!” Katie exclaimed with shock. “Are you drunk?”
Stumbling toward her, Simon stopped for a moment, and the answer to that particular question was now clear. Sweaty and red-eyed, barely able to keep upright, he squinted and frowned as he looked around the barroom, as if he was trying to spot something he expected to find hovering near the ceiling, before finally he turned back to Katie and, after a couple of seconds, began to smile.
“It's my night off,” he slurred, “and I thought, I thought... I thought I'd spend it... not sitting alone in my apartment playing Call of Duty. For once.”
“Jesus, you are drunk.”
Stepping past her, Simon headed toward the bar. “Gimme a beer,” he muttered, slapping some cash down. “Beer, whatever beer you've got, just gimme one.”
“Sure you haven't had enough?” Greg asked, eying him with concern.
“Are you cutting me off?” Simon replied, his head seemingly a little too heavy for his body as he tried to look around.
Greg paused, before grabbing a bottle. “Just the one, okay?”
“So what,” Simon began, before burping, “so what is a nice girl like you doing in a place like this, Katie? Why haven't you got a nice man to crawl into bed with?”
She climbed onto the stool next to him and signaled Greg for another beer. “I was supposed to meet a friend, but she bailed at the last minute. So then I thought I'd finish my drink and go home, but then I had one more drink, and then...” She paused, before sighing. “And then I realized I was drinking alone in a bar, and that didn't seem healthy, so I was about to leave when you came stumbling through the door.”
“Must be a sign from God,” Simon replied.
“Sure, that's what it is.”
“You know,” he continued, “you're too good for this place.”
“I'm not sure about that.”
“No, it's true.” He took a swig of his beer, spilling some of it down his chin. “You're beautiful and talented and smart, you're kind, you're intelligent, creative, you could be anything you wanted. You're also hot, and perceptive, and you understand the way the world works. You're amazing.”
“You...” She stared at him for a moment, trying to make sense of the stream of unconnected compliments. “That's nice of you to say, but you really don't actually know me.”
“I know you!”
She shook her head.
“I do!” he continued, as if he was shocked by her suggestion. “We've talked, what, five or six times now? Hell, I consider us to be friends, Katie. I can see what I need to see.”
She shook her head, although at the same time she couldn't help but blush.
“What if we blow this joint?” he asked.
“It's the only bar in town.”
“I don't mean the bar. I mean the town. What if...” He paused, staring at her with a frown. “I've got an idea. Hear me out here, what if I empty out the safe at the Border, take every last bit of cash, and then -”
“No,” she said firmly. “Seriously, Simon, you've had way too much to drink.”
“I never get good ideas when I'm sober.”
“Stealing from the Border and running away is not a good idea,” she pointed out. “Are you crazy?” She watched as he took another sip of beer. “Listen, I need to get home. As nights off go, this one is really starting to suck and I think I just wanna chill by myself.” She patted his shoulder, a decision she instantly regretted as she felt sweat soaking through his shirt. “Take care of yourself, Simon, and I'll see you sober at work tomorrow night, okay?”
She turned to walk away.
“I love you,” he called after her.
Stopping, she sighed and looked back toward him.
“I do,” he continued. “It was love at first sight. The first time I checked you out on social media after you applied, and I saw your photos, I fell in love with you. And now that I've got to know you, I love you even more. I know this must seem like it's come out of the blue, and believe me, it's as much a surprise to me as it is to anyone else, but...” He paused, before getting up from his stool and stumbling toward her. “Katie, I really do love you. No, wait, I'm in love with you.” Reaching out, he tried to touch the side of her face, but she ducked away. “Just let me prove it to you.”
“Simon -”
“Because I can, you know,” he continued, leaning against the wall. “If something's true, you can always prove it, so just let me.” He hiccuped. “I feel like, if someone tells you that they love you, then you have, like, a duty to at least give them the benefit of the doubt and see if maybe you could love them back. Unless you find them repulsive.”
She sighed.
“Do you?”
“Do I find you repulsive?”
“Do you love me?”
“I have to go,” she told him, “but Simon... You don't love me. You barely know me. Plus, you're drunk.”
Without giving him a chance to say anything else, she turned and headed out the door. As she made her way along the street, she felt certain she'd hear him calling after her, but finally she got to the corner and glanced back, only to find that he was nowhere to be seen. She felt bad for him, but at the same time she was angry, too, because now it was going to be awkward the next time she turned up for -
Suddenly someone grabbed her from behind, pulling her into the shadows and then slamming her head into the wall to knock her out.
II
“So are we going to be fighting all through Christmas?” Jack asked as he hung some tinsel on the tree. Turning, he saw that Jane was still wrapping the kids' gifts at the table, a task she'd been performing in silence for a good half hour now. “Come on, seriously?”
“Can you stop distracting me?” she replied, not even glancing at him as she tore off some tape. “I just want to get this done.”
“I really don't see that I did anything wrong,” he continued. “I mean, sure, I might have annoyed you slightly, I might have gone against a few things, but I didn't do anything that's, you know, morally wrong.”
“You don't think so, huh?”
“Well, what did I do?” he asked. “Name one thing.”
“You went through my phone.”
“Okay, but apart from -”
“You broke into the police email servers.”
He sighed.
“And,” she added, finally turning to him, “you went to press with a front-page story that basically condemns your brother as a multiple murderer.”
“He's not named in that piece.”
“It's Christmas Eve tomorrow,” she continued. “How do you think Ben's going to feel when he reads the paper and sees what you've published? It's there in black and white, you're accusing him of all these murders.”
“Maybe he'll do the right thing and turn himself in. Maybe he'll finally realize that he can get help.”
She stared at him for a moment, before muttering something under her breath and getting back to work on the gifts. Grabbing a fresh sheet of paper, she began to wrap a Star Wars play-set for Oliver.
“Look,” Jack continued, making his way over to her, “the kids are at my mother's tonight, and you're actually at home for once. Can't we put all of this behind us and try to spend a few hours having fun?” He checked his watch. “It's late, but we could fit in a few hours. Why don't we agree to put all of this stuff in a box for one night, ignore it, and get back to having some time together, just the two of us?�
� Stepping behind her, he put his hands on her shoulders and began to give her a massage. “It's been a while, Jane, and I think it'd be good for us to -”
“I am so mad at you right now!” she shouted, pushing his hands away as she got to her feet. “Do you have any idea what you've done?”
“I -”
“I could arrest you!” she continued. “You broke into the police servers! You used my password, you tried to cover your tracks, but you did it and I can prove it!” She stared at him for a moment, almost shaking with rage. “You go on and on about Ben being this monster,” she told him, “but as far as I can tell, the only person in your family who's committed a criminal act is you!”
“Now you're getting hysterical.”
“I'm holding a pair of scissors in my hand,” she said darkly. “Don't tell me I'm being hysterical.”
“So now you're threatening me?” he replied, raising a skeptical eyebrow. “Isn't that an arrestable offense?”
“Don't try to be smart, Jack. It doesn't suit you.”
“The kids are at my mother's, so why don't we just -”
“Finish the wrapping,” she replied, tossing the scissors aside and heading to the door.
“Where are you going?”
“Out.”
“Again?” He waited for a reply. “Are you kidding? It's late, it's -”
“I need to think.”
He paused, listening as she grabbed her shoes and coat in the hallway. At first he figured she was just joking, that she'd come back at any moment, but finally he heard her taking her keys from the bowl. Hurrying through, he saw her opening the front door.
“Where the hell are you going?” he asked, shocked that she was actually leaving the house.
“Do you remember our last argument?” she replied, turning to him. “Our last big one, I mean. And the one before that, and the one before that too? Every time, you end up going out this door, leaving me to stew. It's a good strategy, Jack, and it works because you know I'd never storm out like an asshole while the kids are upstairs. This time, though, they're at your mother's, which means I'm free to be just as big an asshole as you ever are. So have fun, and don't wait up. I might be back real late.”
“Jane -”
Before he could get another word out, she slammed the door shut.
“You'll be back,” he continued, and then a moment later he heard the car starting in the driveway. “You've got nowhere to go,” he added. “You'll be back. Jesus Christ, talk about overreacting. Fine, two can play at this game.” Grabbing his coat, he took his keys from the bowl and then headed out, although after a moment he realized that without the car, he didn't have too many options.
On the living room table, the gifts remained half-wrapped.
***
“Do you think I made a mistake?” he asked a little while later, sipping at a beer in his father's garbage-strewn front room. “I mean honestly, do you think I did anything wrong at all?”
“She'll calm down,” Harry replied, slouched on the sofa with his dressing gown almost all the way open, revealing the scar from his hernia surgery. “She's probably just annoyed that you got to the truth before she and Alex managed it.”
“I was only trying to help.”
“Course you were.”
“And it will help,” he continued. “When that front-page comes out tomorrow, everyone in town is going to know the truth. There'll be nowhere left for Ben to hide, and then Alex'll have to do something. He and Jane, they move way too slowly. They've known it was Ben for years, but they never quite had enough evidence. This time, public opinion should be enough to push them in the right direction.” He paused. “That's really why I'm doing it, you know. Not to upset anyone. I consider it my civic duty to push the police investigation in the right direction. I've always been a strong believer in campaigning journalism.”
“He was bad from birth, you know,” Harry replied, staring at his beer bottle. “Ben, I mean. He was always a bad seed.”
“You've said that before.”
“But I really mean it. It wasn't anything your mother and I did to him, he just...” Pausing for a moment, he seemed lost in his own thoughts. “I remember when I first set eyes on him, just a few minutes after he'd popped out. He wasn't crying. That's odd with a kid, isn't it? You and Beth, you both cried, but Ben... He just looked up at me, he was only three or four minutes out of the womb, but I swear to God I could already sense that something was up with him, like he was already calculating, already thinking about stuff. As he got older, that feeling just got worse and worse.” He sighed. “I was so relieved when you and Beth turned out to be normal.”
“So you think there's just something wrong in Ben's head?”
Harry nodded. “Something in the way he's made. I don't know, maybe your mother smoked too much while she was carrying him.”
“He should've got help a long time ago,” Jack continued. “There's something wrong with the system when someone who's obviously sick is just allowed to walk around like that.”
“Amen to that.”
Jack nodded.
“It's hard,” Harry added. “You don't want to believe that your own kid, your own flesh and blood, is capable of that sorta thing, but... I don't know, maybe I should've done something about it a long time ago, when he was little.”
“You tried. You took him to the station that time.”
“It wasn't enough. I should've tried something else.”
“Like what?”
“Like...” He paused again. “I'm his father. If there's something wrong with him, if he's a danger to the community, maybe I should've...” He fell silent for a moment, staring into space, clearly imagining what it would have been like if he'd ended Ben's life all those years ago. “I thought the law would deal with him,” he continued finally. “By the time I realized that wasn't going to happen, it was too late.”
“You don't mean -”
“I should've put a sack over his head,” he continued. “There, I said it. You know what he's like, always coming and going, would anyone really have missed him if he'd gone one time and never come back? Would anyone have even known? You'd all have just figured he was off on his travels, but I could've ended the misery for all of us.” He sniffed, before taking another swig of beer. “Don't think I never considered it. I just never got to the point of doing it, that's all. Maybe I'm a coward.”
They sat in silence for a moment, each of them contemplating what it would have been like if Harry had killed Ben.
“Where is he now?” Harry asked finally. “Where's he spending his final night of freedom?”
Jack shrugged.
“I'll sleep better when I know he's caged,” Harry continued, finishing his beer and immediately grabbing another from the floor. “I won't go to visit him in jail, though. Or the loony bin, wherever he ends up. I won't go, not ever. I don't want to see him once this is over, I'd rather just pretend he never existed.” He turned to Jack. “What about you? Are you gonna stay in touch with him?”
Jack paused for a moment. “I have to,” he said finally. “After all, he's still my brother.”
***
Sitting on a bench in the town square, in the shadow of the old oak tree that dominated the scene, Ben Freeman watched as the lights of the bar were switched off one by one. He'd been sitting in the dark for a while now, just breathing in the night air and enjoying the feel of the place. He'd finished his only beer a while ago, and he knew he should head back to his sister's to get some sleep, but at the same time he felt as if he'd suffocate if he wasn't outside.
Hearing a noise nearby, he turned and saw a figure heading toward him.
He held his breath.
For a moment, his heart began to race as the figure got closer. Ever since he'd returned to Bowley a few days earlier, he'd been expecting this. The figure's footsteps rang out now, and finally Ben reached into his pocket and took hold of the knife he'd been carrying, ready to defend himself. This was the moment wh
en the Border would reach out and get its revenge, when he'd pay for what happened to Garland Packer. Still, there was no way he was going down without a fight. He was ready. He'd been ready since the moment he'd got back to town.
Finally, the figure walked straight past and carried on into the night.
Sighing, Ben leaned back against the bench and let go of the knife. Another false alarm. Still, he knew that one day they'd catch up to him, that they were just biding their time now they knew he was back in town. Old Crutchlow was most likely pulling the strings and making him sweat, but although he hated feeling like a sitting target, he had no idea how he was supposed to force things along. He'd tried drawing attention to himself, he'd tried getting drunk, but so far they weren't making their move.
“Come on,” he muttered under his breath, watching as another figure crossed the road nearby, only to head down one of the alleys that led away from the square.
Raising his beer bottle to his lips, Ben tilted his head back and waited, hoping that at least a drop of two would be left to dribble into his mouth. He waited, but nothing came, and finally he tossed the bottle aside.
“What are you waiting for?” he asked out loud, looking around but seeing that no-one was around. “I know you want me, so come and get me.”
***
“End?” Beth replied, as she and Jane sat in the dark kitchen. “It'll never end. Jack won't give up, he won't stop believing these things about Ben, and Ben... Well, Ben'll never be...”
“Normal?” Jane suggested, sipping from her beer.
“He's my brother and I love him,” Beth continued, “but... He definitely has a way of putting people on edge. Making them feel uneasy, you know? And he enjoys it. He likes messing with them.”
“Especially with Jack,” Jane pointed out.
“Especially with Jack.” Sighing, Beth looked down at her untouched beer for a moment. “I honestly don't think there'll ever be peace between them. Not ever, not as long as they both live. They'll keep this up, and then eventually one of them will die first, and the other will be left with nothing except regrets. I want to cry when I think about it, I want to grab them and knock their heads together, but I truly don't see any other way for things to work out.” She began to peel the label from her bottle. “If it was going to end any other way, it would have happened by now.”
