Page 48 of Secrets at the Little Music Shop

‘Hey. Don’t be sorry. It’s . . . I don’t even know what it is. Terrible. Awful.’ I didn’t know what else to say.

‘You want to know what it really is, Jem? It’s loneliness. It’s being treated as stupid or rude, it’s not understanding. And Christ, the dark—’

‘Dark?’

‘When it’s night, when I can’t see . . . that’s when I really know I’m deaf.’ He tried to draw in a breath. I heard it stutter past the tears still in his throat. ‘Right. So now you feel sorry for me. Great. I need a friend, what I get is a pity partner.’ He dropped his head onto his knees and curled his arms around it, turning himself into a ball, blocking me out. Crying silently.

I left him to let it out. Made two mugs of strong coffee, listening to the rain that had begun pounding down on the outside of the cottage. The little kitchen had been gloomy to start with, now it was like midnight and the rapidly cooling air had dropped the temperature down beyond comfortable.

I took a mug to Ben. Touched his shoulder. ‘Hey. Drink this then put something on. You’re going to freeze.’

He was watching my mouth. I could see that now. ‘Christ, I’m sorry. Jem, I’m so, so sorry. This isn’t your problem, it’s not your fight. All I ask is that you don’t tell anyone else. Please.’

‘Ben.’ I dropped to sit cross-legged in front of him. ‘You need to tell Zafe.’

‘How? For God’s sake, how do I tell him something like this?’

‘The same way you told me. He deserves to know. At least so he can move forward with reforming the band or whatever. He really cares about you, you know.’

A pale smile. ‘Thanks, Oprah.’ Another huge, sighing breath. ‘Can’t believe I lost it like that.’

I threw him his shirt from the table. ‘Please. You’ve got goosebumps so big I can see them from here.’ I watched him drag the cotton over his head, loosening his hair from the collar. ‘And, for the record, I don’t pity you. Don’t even feel sorry for you if you want the truth.’

An indrawn breath. ‘Okay, guess I asked for that one.’

‘I’ve — known people who’ve lost a lot more than their hearing. And if going deaf is what it took to get you off the drugs then that’s a fair trade from where I’m standing.’

Ben’s eyes burned through me. ‘You want to tell me?’

‘No.’ I looked around at the dark streaming windows, the ribbons of water dragging down the panes. ‘Wow. This place is way, way too gothic.’

He laughed. ‘I like it that the weather has a sense of the dramatic.’

In my jeans my pocket began to vibrate. I snatched at my mobile. ‘And now I know why you never call,’ I said. ‘I thought you were just being a typical bloke.’

‘Hey, I was.’ Ben stood up, straightening his legs slowly and stretching. He looked taller and the stretch went on forever. I tried not to look at the way the muscles in his thighs were working under his jeans.

‘It’s Rosie.’ I flipped open the phone. ‘Hello, Rosie.’

‘Jemima,’ Rosie sounded slightly out of breath. ‘Have you found him? Ben, is he with you?’

‘Yes to both questions.’

I heard Rosie relaying this information to someone else and then heard Jason’s yell of ‘ice cubes!’ before she came back on.

‘It’s important. Can you put him on?’

I glanced over at Ben lip reading my half of the conversation. ‘Er, he’s — he’s upstairs at the moment. Tell me and I’ll pass it on.’ Black eyes regarded me steadily. ‘He’s busy,’ I added in case Rosie was about to insist.

Ben gave a slow, sad smile.

‘Okay. But this is important, Jem. Tell him there’s been a fire. At the shop. Saskia just rang, apparently the fire engines are out and everything. He might want to get over there.’

‘Saskia rang?’

‘Yeah. Apparently the whole of the street came to a standstill so she sent Mairi out to find out what was going on.’

‘What, passing up the chance to ogle a fireman?’

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