Page 119 of Rat

“Captain—Benjamin Tracy.”

Jarvis stiffened. “What about him?”

“Did you get his letter?”

“I got it.”

Rory shuffled forward on his seat. “Do you forgive him?”

“There was nothing to forgive.”

“But you shut him down, said you didn’t want to see him again. He scared you.”

Jarvis bit his lip and closed his eyes. “I’m not going to lie; it was terrifying when he started shouting—”

“I swear he’s not like that. He looked out for me when I was inside. He’s one of the people I’ve let down. He’s suffering, and he needs someone to talk to. Please—”

Jarvis raised his hand. “Stop, stop, stop, let me finish.”

Rory pressed his lips together.

“I was terrified, but more than my own fear, I was scared for him. Scared I wouldn’t be able to help him. We’re the same age, but I’ve never seen a dead body, never been in a fist fight, let alone a firefight. I ride horses and collect stamps and have afternoon tea with my mum in her mansion.” He sighed. “For most of the inmates in here, I know enough, can help them cope with being inside, or the crime they’ve committed, or any troubles that plague them, but Benjamin… He was right. I don’t have a clue what he’s been through, or what it was like, or how to help him. I’m worried I’ll let him down.”

“So your solution is not to see him at all, not to try?”

“It’s the best I could come up with.”

“You could help. You might be able to sort through the mess of his head. Unburden him.”

Jarvis reached for the glove compartment, and Rory shifted his knees out of the way.

He opened it up and retrieved a folded piece of paper.

“He apologized for scaring me, but it should be me apologizing to him for being a coward.”

Jarvis unfolded the paper. “There’s so much self-hatred and self-loathing in this letter. I can practically feel the despair when I read it, and I want to help, but if I mess it up, I could make it worse. I’m not an idiot. I know inmates smuggle in alcohol,and he’s an addict. He could start drinking again if I push, and I couldn’t bear it if I—”

“About that.” Rory winced. “He’s already relapsed once—”

“What?”

“After you wouldn’t see him.”

Jarvis pressed the letter to his face. “God… That wasn’t my intention.”

“He stopped, but he’s still taking anti-anxiety medication, and sleeping tablets, and whatever else that doctor put him on.”

Jarvis snorted. “Throw pills at a problem, and hope it’ll go away. I can’t stand doctors like that…”

“Please, will you see Cap—Benjamin, even if it’s once, just to say you accept his apology or to explain why you don’t think you’ll be able to help.”

“I don’t know if that’s—”

“It would help him. It really would.”

Jarvis sighed, then nodded. “Okay… I’ll see if I can arrange an appointment with him tomorrow.”

Rory pressed his hands together. “Thank you.”

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