Page 55 of Carbon

Another nail in Ben’s coffin, and also in my heart. Angie said she’d never sleep with Ben, but she’d been in his damn bed? Wait a minute. Hold on. The real killer had stolen Ben’s keys, hadn’t he? What if he’d planted Angie’s hair? But how would he have got it? Either from her body that night or...or...or he’d been in our apartment too.

“I’m going to be sick.”

I shoved the chair back and ran out of the room, looking both ways in a desperate attempt to find a bathroom until Bell steered me in the right direction. Once inside a stall, I retched up that morning’s coffee and half a croissant. At this rate, I’d be developing an eating disorder too.

I sat on the closed toilet lid for ten minutes until a female police constable came in to check I was okay. When I realised she wasn’t going to leave, I wiped my mouth and stood up, dreading the thought of more questioning.

As Robinson clicked the tape recorder on again and started speaking, he seemed convinced of Ben’s guilt. And as they took me through that night in every painful detail once more, I had to confess a modicum of doubt crept into my mind too.

* * *

On the way back to Shotley Manor with Sidney driving, Gregory tried calling me twice, but I sent him to voicemail both times. With Ben having abandoned me, where did that leave my future? Should I try to salvage something with Gregory? Right then, I didn’t know, nor did I have the energy to think about it.

As I walked into the kitchen, Mary pulled a big pan of macaroni and cheese out of the Aga, the cheese golden and bubbling on top.

“Thought you might need this, ma’am.”

What I needed was a time machine and a loaded gun. “Thank you. That’s very kind.”

Dorothy bustled in as I was halfway through a bowlful, trying hard to resist the urge to wash it down with a bottle of red and an economy-sized packet of paracetamol.

“Did you hear the news in the village?”

“That Rebecca Larkin’s having another baby?” Mary asked.

“No, about Beau.”

Mary’s eyes cut sideways to me, and she gave her head a small shake.

“Please tell me,” I begged. “The only thing worse than knowing everything is knowing nothing at all.”

Dorothy took a seat opposite me, the wooden chair scraping across the old stone floor. “Young Jade Bosley says he forced himself on her.”

I dropped the fork I was holding. “He what?”

“That’s what she told Dana Sherringham, and Dana convinced her to make a statement to the police.”

“How? When?”

“A month ago, she says. They met in the pub. One night, things got a bit frisky, and he went back to her house while her parents were out. Wouldn’t take no for an answer, apparently.”

“And she’s sure it was Beau?”

“Well, he gave a different name, but he fits the description. I expect the police will do one of those line-ups when they catch him.”

He wouldn’t. No, no, no. Not Ben. I thought back to our first time together, my nervousness, and later the way he’d wanted to take me back home when he found out how inexperienced I was. And all the other times? He’d been intense but never forceful. I didn’t believe it.

Or was it just that I didn’twantto believe it?

Could a monster have lurked within him? Had he lied to give himself time to make a clean getaway? What if I’d unwittingly played right into his hands? All the certainty I’d felt after we found Angie was slowly leaking away, and I no longer knew the lies from the truth.

But a little voice within me still whispered, “You understand what it’s like to be accused of a murder you didn’t commit.”

16

Agood night of sleep always worked miracles, and while I felt groggy from the temazepam I’d pinched from the bottle in Mother’s bathroom, I also felt vaguely human for the first time in days.

And I knew what I needed to do. If Ben lied to me that night, he did so with such conviction I’d believed every word, no hesitation. And it stood to reason he might have lied about more than his relationship with my sister. That meant I needed to speak with my mother.

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