The Shadow Project

Chapter Forty-One

Ben called Brooke from Rosslare docks while he and Sabrina were waiting for the night ferry.

‘Brooke? Sorry to be calling late. But I need a favour.’

‘Fire away,’ she said.

Without going into too much worrying detail, he outlined the situation. Brooke listened carefully, and when he’d finished she said, ‘No problem. She’ll be fine here. I’ll make up the spare bedroom.’

He thanked her. ‘I owe you one.’

The ferry crossing offered him a chance to grab some much-needed sleep. When they hit the Welsh coast dawn was breaking. Five hours of hard driving later, Ben was cutting through the south London traffic in driving rain and thinking of Jeff, probably well on his way to Nice by now for a week of sunshine, beer and pretty girls.

Brooke’s place was in Richmond, a red-brick Victorian house split into flats. Ben had never been there before, and it wasn’t until the door opened and he saw her standing there smiling at him that he was even sure he had the right place.

Her hair was loose over her shoulders, and she was wearing navy blue linen trousers and a light summer blouse the colour of her eyes. A string of jade beads hung around her neck.

She looked good. Really good. It wasn’t until she said, ‘Aren’t you going to introduce us?’ that Ben realised he’d been staring at her. He quickly introduced Sabrina, and Brooke said hello and led them both inside.

Stepping into Brooke’s home felt a little strange to Ben, foreign yet oddly familiar, like a déjà-vu experience. Everything about the place – from the big comfy armchairs, to the cushions strewn everywhere, to the pine cones in the fireplace and the vases of fresh flowers and enormous pot plants that sat about on the polished wood floor – somehow spoke of her, was her. Django Reinhardt’s 1930s gypsy jazz was playing in the background, and aromatic candles filled the apartment with the scent of vanilla and lotus.

‘It’s so kind of you to put me up,’ Sabrina said.

‘It’ll be nice to have some company,’ Brooke replied warmly. ‘Now, I suppose you guys must want some breakfast.’

‘Just some coffee,’ Ben said. ‘I’m not staying.’

‘Would you mind if I freshened up first?’ Sabrina asked.

‘Sure. The bathroom’s through there. Help yourself. There are towels in the airing cupboard.’

Sabrina left, and Ben stood about in the kitchen as Brooke made coffee. She served it in mugs and handed him one. His had a picture of the Pink Panther on it, and hers had Paddington Bear. She dribbled in a spoonful of honey, held the mug in both hands the way he liked, and sipped.

‘Nice place,’ he said, looking around him. The coffee was hot and strong. He took a big gulp and felt better. ‘A bit more sophisto than Le Val.’

‘I love Le Val,’ she said. ‘I’d swap it for this place any day.’

‘I love it too,’ he said quietly. Felt a twinge as he remembered the troubles there waiting for him.

‘Won’t you sit down? You look tired.’

‘I’m fine.’

She looked at him with concern. ‘What’s happening, Ben? Last time I saw you, you were running off to Bruges. Where now?’

‘Germany,’ he said.

‘Ruth?’

He nodded. ‘It’s her, Brooke. I saw a picture. No doubts.’

‘I really hope you find her. Just remember what I said, about asking for help if you need it.’

‘I haven’t forgotten.’

‘There’s danger, isn’t there?’ she said, anxiously.

‘A bit,’ he admitted. He finished the last of the coffee, put down the empty Pink Panther mug and turned to go. ‘You be careful, won’t you?’

‘Don’t worry about me.’

‘That’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever said to me, Ben Hope. Of course I worry about you. You drive me completely nuts with worry sometimes.’ Her cheeks had flushed red, and Ben was taken aback by the depth of emotion in her voice. She stepped quickly over towards him, put her arms around him and pressed her ear to his chest. Then looked up at him, and there was a tear rolling out of her eye and across the curve of her cheek. He reached up and gently dabbed it away with his fingers. Kissed her gently on the forehead. Then moved his mouth down and kissed her cheek, tasted the salty taste of the tear. Her skin felt soft against his lips.

She tensed and pulled away from him. ‘Don’t play with me,’ she said quietly.

He frowned. ‘I’m not.’

‘I know you don’t like me,’ she said.

‘What are you talking about? Of course I like you. I like you a lot.’

‘But not the way I like you, Ben. Get it now?’ The words seemed to come out against her will, as if they’d been kept submerged for a long time and she hadn’t meant for them to come bubbling up.

He said nothing. Just looked at her, and could see the anguish in her face. It was a look he’d never seen before. It quickly turned to an angry blush, and she stepped away from him and went back to her coffee.

‘Shit. I shouldn’t have said that. Forget it, OK?’

Ben couldn’t find the words for what he wanted to say. Before he had a chance to speak, Sabrina walked into the room, bringing a wafting scent of soap with her.

‘I’d better be going,’ he said. ‘I’ll be in touch.’