Jacob felt his jaw drop. Did she just ask me out? He nodded slowly. ‘A drink. To talk. When?’ He felt his stomach turn a somersault. It had been years since he’d had a drink with a woman.
‘Tonight, if you’re free? I put Grace down at 730 p.m. and I’ll need to make sure Aoife is home and settled. And I can’t stay long. Maybe it would just be best if you came to mine instead of us going out? It was a spur of the moment offer, I didn’t really think about the other stuff.’
‘Your place at 830 p.m. then?’
Ben heard her heart pounding in her ears again. What the hell am I doing? She hadn’t invited a boy back to Aoife’s in forever, and granted Jacob was way more than a boy, but still. Even as she flashed a quick smile at Jacob and nodded, she groaned inside. Aoife was going to have her life over this one. She’d never live it down.
Jacob pressed down on the accelerator and pulled the car off from the kerb. He fought to stop the boyish grin spreading across his face.
I’m going for a drink with a woman; TJ will never let me live this one down.
8th June, 1535 hours - Sunderland University Campus
He stood in the shadows beside the library and waited, knowing Clarice was due to finish her lesson at 3 p.m. and had agreed to meet him for a coffee and to go over the notes from the lectures he had 'missed'. He was excited. It felt good to get so close, so personal. It would make it even more fun when he finally had her in his grasp tomorrow.
It would be perfect.
His mind wandered back to the one that got away, Bree. Frowning he acknowledged it was a little harder than he had thought it would be to locate her. She definitely was no longer on the voters roll for County Durham. He’d decided earlier he would look into her location after he had finished with the delectable Clarice.
As she approached, tentatively smiling at him, he had to fight the urge to take her there and then. She was too trusting, too gullible. He would enjoy teaching her to be careful who she trusted. Not that it mattered really, she trusted him.
And that would prove to be her biggest mistake yet.
It had taken him many years to get comfortable in his routine. Even if he searched endlessly for that one feeling he was looking for, even if no one had competed yet, he had managed to establish his own way of doing things, a natural order with which to progress. It started with them getting comfortable enough to let their guard down, and then he taught them how much of a mistake this was. His father had taught him that lesson, and he felt duty-bound to teach others. And teach he would, another day, not today.
Plastering the fake smile on his face, he waved in acknowledgement and made his way to meet her. The scar always caused questions of course. How had he gotten it? And Clarice was no different.
As soon as they were seated in the secluded booth in the pub across the road, she had asked. Expecting it made it easier to rein his temper in, keep it under control. She has no right to ask.
But he held back, giving her the answer she was waiting for. ‘I fell off my bike when I was eight. The scar's been there ever since.’
A complete lie.
The scar had been caused by his father. He’d taken affront to something he had said. He'd been around fourteen at the time. His father had grabbed the first thing to hand, the damn whiskey bottle, and thrown it so hard it had split his lip and cheek on impact. He remembered staring at his father, believing in that moment that he was going to die, that his own father would kill him. But as it had happened, his dad had calmed down, throwing him a rag and telling him to wipe up the blood. There were no stitches though, no offer of medical assistance. So the wound had healed slowly, crusting to a jagged scab and eventually a scar.
There was no need for other people to know that though. They had no right to know. He was the only person left alive who knew what had happened that day. He re-focussed on the conversation as she replied.
‘Aw nightmare. I fell off mine too when I was a kid. Scarred my knee. Was it just Business Enterprise that you needed the notes for? That's all I've brought with me today, but if you need the rest I can scan them and email you a copy later tonight if you like.’
Her voice was smooth, the hint of a local accent coming through. He liked doing this. Interacting together. He was good at it too. There had been a time when despite his eagerness to keep the company of women, he’d found them hard to talk to. He used to stammer and almost felt his cheeks warm at the memory, but after years of practise, he was now adept at pretending to listen, and the women were so naive that they firmly believed he gave a rat’s ass.
Which naturally he didn't.
Ordering another coffee, he let the charade continue.
8th June, 2020 hours - O’Byrne residence, Sunderland
Aoife hadn't stopped smiling since Ben had told her that Jacob was coming over. She was settled on the sofa, blanket on her lap and everything within easy reach, but she had purposefully left her glasses in the kitchen. It wouldn't hurt to stick her head in a bit later and see how they were doing, and the glasses gave her the perfect excuse. Ben had asked him back to the house! Miracles would never cease.
She’d done her best to extract more information, but Ben had her mouth firmly closed. It had to mean something though. Something had happened today that Ben felt needed further exploration. Something she wasn't ready to tell her aunt.
Cocking her head to one side, Aoife heard Ben pottering around upstairs. Grinning again, she realised she was trying to find something to wear. A small part of her was worried. She didn't know this man; maybe he wouldn't be right for Ben. Or just maybe he would.
Hearing a small knock at the front door, Aoife couldn't resist getting up to answer it.
Her gaze travelled up from his feet, past his stick and finally settled on his smile.
‘You must be Aoife?’ His voice gave away his nerves, and she nodded and smiled, granting him access.
‘And you're Jacob. Pleased to meet you. Come on through to the kitchen. I'll let Ben know you're here.’
Jacob followed her down the hallway and into the kitchen. He smiled at the pictures attached to the fridge with an array of bright magnets.
‘Grace’s I presume?’ he asked, his polite tone making him wonder what on earth he was doing here. He almost felt like he had been summoned to the head teacher’s office. Aoife was grinning at him, knowing she had somehow managed to make him uncomfortable. She flicked the on switch of the kettle and used her right arm to set out some cups.
Deciding to give him even more of the heebie jeebies, she asked, ‘So what are your intentions with my niece?’
The look of horror on his face was too much and she broke down in a fit of giggles. ‘I'm only messing with you, Jacob. Don't look so nervous. Ben is quite capable of making her own choices. It's been a long time since she brought someone home though.’
Aoife's words hung heavy in the air - she might have been joking but he sensed a slight undertone, something hiding behind her words that he didn't quite understand yet.
He was still thinking about how to respond, when Ben pushed open the kitchen door, her face hidden behind a pile of washing. ‘Put the kettle down and step away from the counter, Aoife. I said I'd make you some tea in a second.’
She lugged the pile past Jacob without noticing him, and plonked the clothing in a pile in the laundry room at the back of the kitchen.
‘I'm quite capable of making my own tea,’ responded Aoife, then added cheekily, ‘Besides, I wasn't making it for me. I was making it for Jacob.’
‘Well, Jacob’s not here yet so go and sit yourself back down, I'll bring the tea in ....’ Ben’s voice trailed off as she turned around and came face to face with Jacob, who was sitting at the table grinning from ear to ear at the exchange.
‘Aoife O’Byrne, you are incorrigible. Out. Now,’ she added guiding her aunt back to the living room.
‘You didn't tell me he was so good-looking,’ whispered her aunt, letting Ben arrange the blanket on her lap.
&nb
sp; As she turned to leave the room, Aoife added, ‘Ben. You're OK, right? You're ready for this? It's been a long time and I know how hard it's been for you. If it's not right, or he says something to upset you, you just call me, OK? Even without the use of my arm, I'll knock his block off if he hurts you.’
Ben’s expression softened at her aunts words. Turning back, she knelt before the only person who knew her secrets, the only person she truly trusted.
‘I honestly don't know, Aoife. But it's been eight years. Surely I must be ready to at least be friends with a man. I have to at least give it a chance, right?’
‘Course you do, girl, I just don't want to see you get hurt again. When you told me about the night you conceived Grace, I wanted to find that man and punch him on the nose. Getting you drunk and taking advantage like that. He's lucky I didn't find him. I just don't want something like that to happen again.’
‘I know, Aoife, neither do I. And it won't. What're your first impressions? Do you think Jacob would do something like that?’
Without hesitating, Aoife shook her head. ‘That boy was so nervous I almost started stuttering. He seems nice. But take it slow, sweetheart, OK? There's no rush for these things. If it's meant to be then it will be. Que sera sera and all that.’
‘I promise. Now, I'm going to go and talk to the guy in the kitchen, if he hasn't turned tail and ran already.’
Ben gave her aunt a quick cuddle, before getting back to her feet and heading into the kitchen.
‘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 k
now 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.’
I've Been Watching You: a stunning crime thriller from The North East Police Series Page 11
