Page 77 of A Face in the Crowd
He shrugs again. ‘Does it matter?’
‘YES!’ I’m shouting, unable to keep it in. I’m gripping the chain of the swing so tightly that the links are imprinted into my palms. ‘All this matters.’
Ben sighs and now it’s him that wants to turn away. ‘Can we stop talking about the past and think about the future?’ he says.
It’s so outlandish, so ridiculous, that it takes me a few seconds to take it in. ‘Future?’ I say. ‘What future? Everyone thinks you’re dead. I have a copy of the death certificate. You can’t just come back.’
‘I don’t need to. I have another ID. I’m not Ben Peterson, I’m Peter now.’
I actually laugh at that and it’s not fake or forced. It explodes in a guff of air. ‘That’s the name you chose? How long did you have to think about it?’
He shrugs.
‘Stop shrugging!’
He lowers his shoulders, seemingly chastened. I wonder if everyone has these types of traits that follow a person through their life. Whether there’s something I do that annoys everyone else.
‘I didn’t choose the name,’ he says. ‘When you get an ID, you get what you’re given. The point is that I don’tneedto come back. We can be together as Lucy and Peter. Benisdead.’
He says something else, but it’s lost among an exploding firework. The explosion crackles along the sky, finishing with a series of smaller fizzes. When it’s over, Ben is no longer speaking.
‘Does your mum know?’ I ask.
He doesn’t reply, but, when I turn to him, he shakes his head. ‘I couldn’t tell her,’ he says. ‘I thought about it. I wanted to.’
‘You stole her coat from her washing line?’
I watch his eyes narrow, probably wondering how I knew. If it is that, then he doesn’t ask.
‘I wanted to feel closer to her,’ he says, not seeming to realise how creepy it sounds. How creepy all this sounds. ‘It’s not her I’m back for,’ he adds.
‘You’ll keep letting her think you’re dead?’
‘Benisdead. I think it’s kinder. Don’t you?’
‘Don’t bring me into this.’
I push myself up from the swing and step away. Ben mutters ‘don’t’, but that’s not the reason I stop and turn. A horrible suspicion is starting to settle.
‘What did you mean “ease me into it”?’
There’s a pause and Ben has his lips pressed together.
‘Tell me,’ I say.
‘I couldn’t just turn up at your door and say, “Tada! It’s me”.’
‘What else?’
I know him better than I realised. He stares at the floor. ‘I enjoyed the chase,’ Ben says. ‘It was like the old days. I was trying to prove to you that I wanted you. It was fun. Didn’t you enjoy it?’
He glances up and I can the sincerity in his thoughts. He really believes the last week has been enjoyable. I close my eyes and can see the CCTV stills from the bus. They’re imprinted on my memory. Ben was the man in the cap from the bus. The one who was in only a single picture.
‘Why did you give me the money?’ I ask.
He starts to shrug and then catches himself. ‘I wanted you to enjoy your life again,’ he says. ‘I hated seeing you live like this.’
‘Like what?’
