Rise and Shine, Benedict Stone

by Phaedra Patrick

  Nicholas crinkled his brow. “Benedict is looking for Gemma. Have you seen her today?”

  They shook their heads.

  “Sorry, mate,” Nicholas said. “I bet she’ll come along to the bonfire later on.”

  “Yes,” Benedict said firmly to assure himself. “I’m sure she will.”

  He led the way to the canal towpath and tried the buzzer for Veronica’s apartment, but there was no reply. The patio doors were closed. He tried to phone Estelle but there was no signal. “This is where my wife has been staying,” he explained to Charlie. “Since she left me.”

  “Has she gone for good?”

  “I don’t know. She moved out, and then I told her about what happened between me and you. She didn’t take it well.”

  “Not surprising, huh?” Charlie said.

  “I’d kept it secret from her since we met.”

  Charlie didn’t answer. He looked up at the patio doors again. “Do you remember that time when you thought that I was missing?”

  Benedict was about to shake his head and say that he didn’t recall, but the memory started to take shape in his mind. “You didn’t arrive home from school and I thought you might have had an accident. I phoned round your friends’ parents and on the fifth call...”

  “Yeah. Ian Smith’s mom asked if you’d forgotten that I was sleeping over.”

  “I was so busy that it slipped my mind. I was really embarrassed.”

  “You took a lot on, huh? Looking after me and running the shop.”

  “If you were the older brother, you’d have done the same for me.”

  Charlie shrugged. “Maybe not as much.”

  Benedict spied the bouquet he’d brought for Estelle the night he attempted to be Romeo. It was muddy, crushed into the ground. “Perhaps we should call the police.”

  Charlie shook his head. “She’s real nervy around them. We should try to find her first, just you and me.”

  They reached Benedict’s shop and he used his hands as a visor to look through the window. He couldn’t make anything out in the dark interior, so he unlocked the door.

  They stepped inside, and it felt cold and empty. There were no lights on and the door to the workshop was closed. “Gemma?” he said aloud and walked through. His bench was just as it always was, with his tools laid out in straight lines. He looked out into the yard and checked in the store cupboard.

  “It looks different in here,” Charlie said. “Real classy.”

  “Gemma helped me to revamp it. She’s changed lots of things for me.” Benedict picked up a towel and roughly dried his hair before passing it to Charlie, who did the same.

  Charlie walked over to the counter, where the gemstone journal lay open. His eyes widened. “Oh, god. This is Dad’s.”

  “We found it in the attic. Gemma’s been reading it and making notes about the gemstones.”

  Charlie ran his fingers over the cover. “I’d forgotten all about it.” He was quiet for a while, thinking. “We had a good little family, didn’t we, Benedict? Until Mom and Dad...”

  Benedict cleared his throat. “I know...”

  The brothers shared a look, heavy with loss.

  “When Amelia and I got married,” Charlie said, “we were both trying to erase what happened between you and her. When we had Gemma I thought we were starting afresh, but it was always there. We got on by until Gemma was twelve. Then Amelia met someone else and walked out on us. Since then I raised Gemma alone, just as you did with me.

  “I hated you for a long time, Benedict. But the longer I looked after Gemma, the more I kinda grew to understand what it was like for you, caring for me. It was like her life overtook mine. It was relentless and pretty lonely.”

  “I’ve regretted what happened every single day,” Benedict said. “Estelle’s gone because I was obsessed with having a family. I wanted to prove I could raise a child and not mess up.”

  Charlie moved first. He swiftly wrapped his arms around Benedict’s back and gave him a quick, thorny hug. “We should have said what we needed to all those years ago and not let things fester. I should have punched you then.”

  Benedict spoke into his brother’s neck. He grasped on to his shirt and held him close. “I’m so sorry for what I did. I just wanted to feel close to someone.”

  Charlie’s grip tightened for a moment. Then he released Benedict and stepped back. “Whatever happened, we need to forget about it for today.”

  “We need to be united for Gemma,” Benedict agreed. He looked at the page in the journal, left open on sugilite.

  SUGILITE

  This gemstone is good for anyone who feels they don’t belong or fit in. It helps you to live in the present rather than the past. It protects you from disappointment and shocks, and encourages forgiveness and meaningful conversation. It assists with acceptance and self-belief. Its soothing qualities mean that it’s an excellent stone to use for headaches...

  Benedict stopped reading. He traced his finger over his father’s handwriting, pausing on the word headaches. “I think I know where Gemma is,” he said.

  “Where?”

  “She had a migraine one day, and we went for a walk on the moors to clear her head. She liked it up there.” He walked over to the window and looked up over the roofs at the rolling charcoal-and-ocher hills. “I think she’s headed up to the moors.”

  Charlie joined him. “But it looks like a storm is brewing out there,” he said. “The skies are getting real dark.”

  “That’s what I’m worried about,” Benedict said. “I’ll get you a coat.”

  * * *

  Nicholas was shifting barrels of beer outside the pub, ready to roll them down to the car park for the bonfire. Alistair and Alexander brandished chair legs like light sabers and chased each other, playing Star Wars.

  The rain began to lash down more heavily, so Benedict and Charlie put up their hoods and collars, and all you could see were their eyes. Old chairs, a few doors and a broken wardrobe had been thrown onto the giant wooden pyramid on the car park. A piece of rope was strung across the entrance with a sign hanging on it. Bonfire Lit at 5:00 p.m. Firework Display at 6:00 p.m. Fundraising for Noon Sun Community Center.

  The moors loomed before them and Benedict could see the shape of the stegosaurus. “Gemma liked dancing on the rocks at Dinosaur Ridge.”

  “I’d forgotten how high the hills are. The scale of the moors,” Charlie said. “It’s scary...”

  “I know,” Benedict said. “Let’s climb.”

  * * *

  The bleached grass was the color of sweet corn. The clouds hung heavy, casting long shadows that shifted, black, across the landscape, like giant crows had flown across the sun. A wild wind howled over the crags and whipped Benedict’s coat around him. The cold caught the back of his throat as he navigated over marsh and rocks.

  Charlie walked slightly ahead, stopping occasionally to look around him.

  They climbed to the top of a small rocky crag and stopped for a while, both out of breath. A kestrel swooped overhead.

  “Gemma gets so full of emotion that she doesn’t know what to do,” Charlie said. “They blast out of her. That’s why she runs. You know, she always sensed there was something wrong about our family. She knew that beneath the surface, things weren’t right.”

  Benedict faltered over a rock. “And what did you tell her?”

  “I suppose I lied, like you must have done with your wife. I told her that we were never close, that we never got along. It was easier than telling her the truth.” He jumped over a tree stump and Benedict followed.

  “We’ll always be family,” Benedict said.

  “Just not the one we all hoped for.”

  “We can try to change that and put the past behind us.”

  “You
make it sound real easy...”

  Benedict stopped walking. He paused and pressed an arm against Charlie’s stomach. “I think there’s someone out there. I can see a figure.”

  The person was moving closer, heading toward them. It was a woman and her hood was pulled up. She wore a purple scarf.

  “You’d better head back,” she said. “The weather is turning.”

  Benedict recognized her voice, even with her face almost covered. “Estelle?” He tugged off his own hood. “What are you doing up here?”

  “Benedict?”

  Through the wind and rain, Benedict blinked at his wife. Her eyes were pink and puffy, like she’d been crying. It was difficult to tell with the raindrops running down her cheeks.

  “I was up here walking and drawing,” she said, avoiding meeting his eyes with hers. “I was trying to think things through. Then the weather changed—” she snapped her fingers “—just like that.”

  Benedict saw her glance at Charlie. Her eyes narrowed a little, trying to place him. There were photos of Charlie as a boy in frames around the house. “Estelle, this is my brother, Charlie. Charlie, this is my...” He hesitated, not sure of how to describe her after their conversation in Crags and Cakes.

  She looked searchingly at Benedict but then shook Charlie’s hand. “I’m Benedict’s wife, Estelle. Have you traveled here from America?”

  “Benedict called me. We’d not been in touch for a long time, but we needed to talk...”

  “We’re searching for Gemma,” Benedict said. “She’s run away.”

  Estelle clamped a hand to her chest. “Oh, no. Can I help? I know the moors well.”

  “Yes.” Charlie squinted against the rain. “Help us, if you can.”

  “We think she may have climbed up to Dinosaur Ridge,” Benedict said.

  The three of them tramped upward until the ridge stood before them in profile. The plates of the rock were black against the grit-gray sky. Charlie and Estelle trod easily, with sure feet across the rugged landscape. Benedict trailed a few steps behind, trying to catch his breath.

  “I know an easier path up there,” Estelle said. “It’s a route that walkers take.” She led them over a mound of rocks to a trail that had been worn away by walkers’ feet over the decades. It curved and wove up to the horizon like a roller-coaster track.

  “Be careful,” Benedict said.

  “I will, but it’s Gemma we need to worry about.”

  Benedict watched as his wife moved deftly and quickly ahead until she became a dark shape that merged into the landscape. After a minute or so she shouted out. Her voice carried on the wind. “Quick. I’ve found something. Come here.”

  Charlie and Benedict shared a look and then hiked speedily toward her. Charlie jumped over a marshy bog and traversed the uneven ground.

  Benedict tried his best to follow. “What is it?”

  His brother and Estelle had their heads bowed. Charlie held something in his right hand. He used his mobile phone to shine a light on it.

  At first Benedict thought that it might be an injured animal. In the yellowy light, he could see it was a light tan color. But as he drew closer, he saw what it really was.

  Gemma’s muddy cowboy boot.

  34.

  JET

  guards, heals grief, stabilizes

  “SHE CAN’T BE up here, walking around with one boot on,” Benedict said. “We have to find her.”

  “It was stuck in the bog,” Estelle replied. “I had to tug it out.”

  The three of them stared at the mud-coated boot. They now knew that Gemma was up here, but whereabouts?

  Charlie tucked the boot into his belt. “Perhaps it’s time to give the police a call, Benedict.”

  Benedict took out his phone and swiped the screen. “There’s no signal again.”

  “She can’t be far, can she?” Charlie looked wildly around him.

  “We need a plan,” Benedict said. “Let’s carry on up to Dinosaur Ridge. It’s the highest point on the moors. If she’s not there, then we’ll have a good viewpoint.”

  “Okay.” Charlie nodded. “Let’s go.”

  It took an additional fifteen minutes until they reached the jagged stones that formed the scales. In the distance an orange light lit the sky like a setting sun. The bonfire in Noon Sun was alight.

  Charlie stood with his hands on his hips and scanned the moors. It was getting too dark to see properly. “Gemma,” he shouted into the wind. “If you’re out here, call out to us. This is all my fault. Not yours.” He stopped and listened, but the only sound was the whistling of the wind through the grass. “Just let us know you’re okay, honey...”

  She’s got to be here, Benedict thought. His eyes watered from the wind and his hands were sore and raw. He could barely feel them, and he pushed them into his pockets. His fingertips hit something small and hard and he pulled it out. It was the piece of Blue Jack he had picked up. He recalled Gemma’s joy at coming up with her own properties. Determination, change and new beginnings. “She’s not at Dinosaur Ridge,” he said aloud. He hurried toward Charlie.

  “What?”

  “I think she’s gone to the Blue Jack quarry.”

  This time, Benedict led the way. He focused on his feet, finding his weight and sturdiness useful. As the wind buffeted against him, he felt solid, as if nothing could topple him. After every few steps, he looked back to check on Estelle. “Are you okay?” he shouted out to her.

  “Don’t worry about me. Focus on your niece,” she said.

  “Our niece,” he corrected.

  Charlie leaped over a stream running down the hill, and Benedict went next. The ground was marshy and he reached out to help Estelle across. She hesitated for a moment, refusing to take his hand. “I don’t need your help, thanks,” she said.

  Benedict felt his fingers fall back through thin air.

  They carried on until they reached the disused quarry. The dark gray of the rock was the same color as the sky. “Gemma,” he shouted, his throat tight from the wind. “It’s Benedict. Uncle Ben. Let us know if you can hear us.”

  “Gemma,” Charlie hollered. “You’re not in trouble. We just want you home safe.”

  Benedict heard something below, several feet down in the quarry—stones tumbling. “I think she might be down there.”

  They reached the edge of the quarry and looked down. The drop was around twenty feet. Estelle grabbed hold of Benedict’s and Charlie’s sleeves tightly, as if they were small boys. “Be careful. There are some rocks farther along you can use as steps.” She showed them where to go.

  Charlie clambered down first, sending small stones skittering down into the quarry. Benedict followed. At the bottom, he instinctively held his hand out again for Estelle. This time she took it briefly and jumped down.

  The wind dropped, the bowl shape of the quarry keeping it sheltered. It was warmer, too. Benedict felt a little relieved. If Gemma was here, she’d be more protected against the elements.

  Benedict, Charlie and Estelle stood and listened. There was movement behind a rock and Benedict froze. A sheep sauntered out and it stared at them for a moment before wandering off.

  “Jesus,” Charlie said. “I thought that was her. Where the hell is she?” Panic rose in his voice. “We’re going to have to go back and get more help. I should have listened to you, Benedict.”

  Benedict narrowed his eyes. “I still think she’s here.” It was then he noticed something amiss. As he looked at the sharpness of the rocks against the sky, he saw that one area didn’t have angled edges. It was soft and more rounded.

  “Over here,” he said, heading toward it, staggering over the uneven ground.

  And finally, there she was.

  “Gemma,” he gasped. He dropped to his knees and reached o
ut, touching her arm. He could feel that it was floppy, like a pram toy. “Gemma.”

  She opened her eyes, and their whites shone against the black of the rocks. “Uncle Ben,” she said, her voice weak and full of relief. “You came for me. I’m so cold. I’ve... Ouch.” She reached down and grasped in the air, in the direction of her ankle. “I think I’ve broken it.”

  Benedict saw that she was wearing her denim jacket and blue dress. Her legs were bare. He tugged off his own coat and wrapped it around her. “We’re here now. You’ll be okay.”

  “Is my dad here? I want him.”

  “Yes. And Estelle.”

  “Gemma.” Charlie crouched and circled his arms around his daughter. He held on to her tightly. “Don’t you worry, okay? You’re going to be fine.”

  Gemma closed her eyes and pressed her cheek against his shoulder. “Dad. You came for me. All this way...”

  “Of course I did, honey.”

  “I saw you and Uncle Ben fighting. I heard you shouting...”

  “We were idiots, honey. But we’re all good now.” He looked up at Benedict and nodded. His expression indicated that there was more for the brothers to say to each other, but this wasn’t the time to do it.

  “I’ve been stupid. I’ve hurt my ankle. I lost my boot...”

  “Why’d ya run away?” Charlie asked gently.

  Tears rolled down her cheeks. “There’s no room for me any longer...”

  “What do you mean?”

  “At home.” She wiped her face with the sleeve of her denim jacket. “When the baby comes. You and Janice will have a new family. Mom didn’t want me, and you don’t want me, either.”

  Charlie shook his head. “Now, that’s not true,” he said. “There will be changes, no doubt about that, but you’ll always be my little girl. I’ll always love you more than you can ever know. We can talk things through. But we can’t do that if you keep running away. Okay?”

  “Okay,” she squeaked.

  Estelle looked at Benedict and gave him a wry smile.

  “I’ve got your boot here.” Charlie tried to slip it onto Gemma’s foot.