No Place to Hide (24 page)

Ben didn’t go out with his uncle and cousin that night, nor would he open his bedroom door when Matt brought everyone home and tried to persuade him to come and meet his new baby sister. He simply cranked up the volume of his heavy metal music so that it boomed throughout the entire vale like thunder. In the end Matt broke the door down, only to find the room empty. He’d escaped down a rope blanket, leaving his music blaring and window wide open.

He didn’t come home for the rest of the night, nor did he answer any texts or return their calls.

When he eventually showed up around eleven the next morning, reeking of beer and body odor, he helped himself to all he could carry from the fridge, and flatly refused to say where he’d been.

—

Over the months that followed there was no improvement in Ben’s manner at all; if anything, he seemed to get worse, especially at home. Fortunately, at school he didn’t seem to be in as much trouble as before. However, after keeping a close eye on him for some time, the resident counselor arranged for him to see a psychologist who specialized in the problems of adolescence to try to establish why he was finding it so hard to make or keep friends. He rarely turned up for the sessions, and even when he did he apparently had nothing to say, apart from denouncing his fellow students as a bunch of fuckwit tossers that no sane person would want to be associated with. Still, at least he wasn’t causing any trouble as such, and since his grades, for the most part, remained above average, there was no reason for the school to insist on any further assessments.

Feeling the lack of outside support, Justine’s and Matt’s stress levels soared, and weren’t in any way helped by their secret inspections of his home computer.

The so-called friends he was making online rejoiced in the kind of names and profiles to send chills down any parent’s spine. Whether he actually met up with any of them wasn’t easy to say, since he rarely told Justine and Matt where he was going or what time he’d be back, but at least he did come back, eventually.

It was around the beginning of year twelve that Ben took up smoking dope in the house, a gesture clearly meant to provoke, which invariably succeeded and ended in terrible showdowns between him and Matt. Heaven only knew who was giving him the money to buy drugs, or where he was sleeping the nights he didn’t come home; he’d never say, no matter how many times they tried to force it out of him.

As time passed and the atmosphere in the house became blacker than ever, Matt began finding it impossible to write, while Justine knew if it weren’t for Cheryl and the others her business would be on the verge of collapse.

Perhaps the most heartbreaking of all the torment he continued to inflict on them was watching how dismissively, even cruelly, he treated Lula. It was as though he couldn’t stand to be near her, which might not have been so hard to deal with if she didn’t always want to be with him. She invariably broke into a smile when he came into the room; she took her first steps trying to get to him, only to be pushed over when she got there; she learned to say his name before Abby’s, an honor he greeted with an irritated roll of the eyes; and whenever she offered to share her toys it was always with him first, even though he often deliberately broke them.

“He is totally out of control,” Abby shouted at her mother after finding Lula in tears one morning. “I saw him, with my own eyes, tearing the wheel off her toddlebike. He even seemed to think it was funny.”

“Where is he now?” Justine asked, trying to console Lula.

“I don’t know. He stormed out when he saw me
and
he threatened me. He said if I told you and Dad I’d be effing sorry. Like I’m scared of him.”

Wondering if perhaps she ought to be, Justine said, “I’ll get Dad to talk to him.”

Abby wasn’t impressed. “Great, and they’ll start fighting all over again, or Ben will make out he’s crying, like he does, poor little him who gets ignored because he’s not a girl, who doesn’t matter to Mummy and Daddy because you never wanted him in the first place…He’ll start listing all the terrible things you’re supposed to have done to him, stuff that
never even happened
, and you’ll feel bad and think you’ve got to make it up to him…Can’t you see what he’s doing? He even laughs about you behind your backs, telling everyone what dumbfuck parents he has—all he’s got to do is turn on the waterworks and you’ll do anything he wants.”

It wasn’t the first time Abby had thrown this at her, and though Justine knew it was probably true, she and Matt had no idea what to do with Ben. Grounding him didn’t work because he always found a way out of the house and sometimes didn’t come back for days on end, as though to punish them. Cutting off his allowance made no difference either, because he still seemed to have money. Imagining the various ways in which he might have been earning it made Justine feel physically sick, and often sent Matt searching the streets in the dead of night, not even sure of what he’d do if he found him.

“You have to confiscate his phone and computer,” Simon told them after yet another bitter episode that they’d all have preferred to forget but couldn’t. “If you don’t, he’s going to end up in the kind of trouble you really won’t want to be dealing with.”

“You think we haven’t tried?” Matt cried desperately. “He told us if we didn’t give them back that something seriously bad would happen, and he’s so…”

“Schizo,” Abby provided.

Matt threw her a look. “I’m getting so I wouldn’t put anything past him,” he confessed wearily. “And you know what Lula’s like with him. She adores him, though God knows why. She’ll do anything he tells her to. You can just hear it, can’t you—‘Throw yourself down the stairs, Lula; run in front of a car, Lula; why don’t you climb this tree with me and see what it’s like to fly?’ ”

Realizing how close he was to the edge, Simon came to put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Shall I get Wes to have another chat with him?” he offered. “It’s seemed to do some good in the past.”

“He’s always looked up to Wes,” Justine put in, unconvinced, but trying to stay hopeful. “He’s about the only one he does look up to now.”

“And Harry,” Abby reminded them. “He thinks Harry’s really cool.”

“Harry’s at uni,” Matt interrupted, “and even—”

“He’s due back in a couple of—”

“I don’t care, he’s not family, and just because he’s your hero doesn’t make him mine. Or Ben’s.”

Shuddering at the thought of Melanie Sands’s reaction to the possibility of her precious boy being asked to help the delinquent, as she’d actually called Ben to Justine’s face, Justine said, “Dad’s right, sweetheart, we have to keep this in the family.”

“So does that mean we should count Chantal out too?” Abby demanded hotly.

Justine looked at Simon and Matt. It was a heavy burden to put on a young girl’s shoulders, especially one who’d only recently accused Ben of stalking her, but they were desperate. “If Cheryl agrees,” Justine said, “maybe we could ask Chantal to try being friends with him again. I’m sure it’s what he wants—they were always so close when they were young, and if that awful Connor hadn’t forced his way between them they still might be.”

To Abby Matt said, “Is Chantal dating Connor these days?”

Abby shrugged. “Not officially, but they hang out quite a lot, and I know that gets under Ben’s skin. But honestly, the way he treats people, you can hardly blame her for backing off.”

“Where is he now?” Simon asked.

Matt and Justine looked at each other and shook their heads.

“Then this could be a good time to take a look at his computer and see if we can find out where he’s going, who he’s in touch with, what’s making him tick these days.”

“Good luck getting into his room,” Abby retorted. “He always keeps it locked.”

“Unless he
wants
us to go in,” Matt added, “because he does that too so his mother or Lula can find his porno magazines, or used condoms—I’m guessing masturbation, because he’s never brought a girl home that we know of. And as for his computer, I’ve checked it through a dozen times, and the same goes—you only find what he wants you to find. Not that it’s good, because it’s a very long way from that—more porn, the kind of interactive games he’s not even legally supposed to be playing, terrorist forums, animal cruelty…You name it, he’s been there, and if I try talking to him about it, he just tells me to eff off, or he laughs. It’s the way he laughs that makes it clear he knew damned well I’d go checking the minute I found his door open and computer on, so he set me up.”

Clearly feeling as helpless and frustrated as they did, Simon said, “What about Mum? Have you told her how bad things are now?”

Matt shook his head. “I don’t want to worry her, or make her feel she has to try and sort it out.”

“He won’t speak to her anyway,” Abby informed them, “he already told me that. He said, ‘If anyone calls Grandma Catherine about me I’ll disappear and I might not even bother to come back.’ I told him he ought to do that anyway, because we’d all be a lot happier without him.”

Justine’s eyes closed. “That sort of comment really doesn’t help,” she sighed.

“But it’s true,” Abby cried, “we would, because all he does is cause trouble and make everyone miserable and upset all the time. This is like a crazy house because of him. Just thank God I’m going to be out of it soon, that’s all I can say.”

“Please don’t,” Matt murmured.

Abby’s eyes widened in shock. “You mean, don’t go on my gap year?” she exclaimed. “You have—”

“I mean don’t say that. We love you, we’re going to miss you, and the last thing we want is you feeling glad to be out of here.”

Obviously sorry she’d hurt his feelings, she went to give him a hug.

Reminding herself that they focused far too much on Ben, Justine said, “How are your plans going for the world tour?”

Abby instantly brightened. “Yeah, cool,” she replied, clearly excited. “Wes—you know he’s going to be my minder and manager, right?”

Justine glanced at Simon, who had evidently done a better job of taking this on board whenever it had been decided than she and Matt had.

“Right, well he is,” Abby ran on, “and we’ve already been in touch with loads of venues around Europe, you know, sending them links to YouTube and my website and stuff to try and get some gigs booked in advance.”

“That’s wonderful.” Justine smiled, so relieved to be hearing good news that she almost wanted to cry.

“Does Harry fit into this anywhere?” Matt asked.

Abby shrugged. “Not really, he has to go back to uni when summer’s over, but it’s not like we’re an item or anything. We’re just mates, you know.”

Since Abby had had a couple of boyfriends following her crush on Harry, Justine was ready to believe she was as relaxed about that as she sounded. No doubt she’d find out more when he came home.

Glancing at the time, she said, “I should go up and check on Lula. She ought to be awake by now.”

Abby didn’t hide her disappointment. “It’s always Ben or Lula with you,” she protested sulkily. “It’s never about me.”

“I’m sorry,” Justine apologized. “You know I’m interested in your plans, and I promise we’ll talk about them later, but I can’t just leave Lula.”

“What’s wrong with talking to me?” Matt wanted to know.

“Or me?” Simon added. “Come on, I’m dying to hear some of this new material. Wes tells me it’s some of the best you’ve done yet.”

Clearly cheered by this, Abby said, “My guitar and everything’s set up over in the studio, so if you’re really interested…”

Leaving them to it, Justine ran upstairs to check on Lula, and felt her heart flood with love to find her sitting on the floor of her room with a jewel-bedecked Rosie at her feet, listening to a story Lula was reading from an upside-down book. She was never any trouble, and hadn’t been from the day she was conceived.

“How long have you been awake?” she asked, going to kneel down with them.

“This is Rosie’s favorite story,” Lula told her, “and it’s mine too.”

Seeing it was
Miffy the Fairy
, Justine said, “I expect you know this one almost by heart.”

Lula nodded her head up and down. “Rosie can’t read, because she’s a dog.”

Hearing her name, Rosie thumped her tail on the floor, and Justine ruffled her adorable head. She followed Lula everywhere, and had done since Lula had started walking. It was as though she was protecting her, ready to alert someone if Lula fell, or lend a handful of fur if Lula needed to pull herself up again. She slept beside Lula’s bed, was always waiting when Lula came in from nursery, and seemed to prefer Lula to throw her ball when they took her for walks, in spite of it never going very far.

“Mummy, am I three?” Lula asked curiously.

Justine smiled. “Not yet, sweetheart. In a few months you will be.”

Lula was frowning. “Ben said I can’t have a birthday this year.”

Trying not to show her annoyance, Justine said, “You mustn’t listen to Ben, he makes jokes that aren’t very funny. Of course you’ll have a birthday, and you’ll be three.”

“And Ben will be
eight
.”

“Eighteen.”

“And before that Abby will be nine—tee.”

Laughing, Justine said, “Nineteen. But there are still a few months to go before—”

“What I said,” Ben declared, making her jump, “was that she won’t be three.”

Justine turned to look at him, her heart racing, her mind spinning into chaos. “I—I thought you were out,” she stammered.

With a shrug, he said, “Maybe I was, and maybe I came back.”

Her eyes stayed fixed on his, and for once Lula didn’t struggle to go to him.

He was thin, gaunt even, with hunted, haunted dark eyes that seemed too large for his face, and thick black whiskers that raged unchecked around his jaw and cheeks, mixing with acne, specks of food, and towel fibers—anything that seemed to pass by. In spite of that he was still a good-looking boy, though she guessed that only she, as his mother, could see it, just as she was probably the only one who could sense the real him beneath all the darkness and contempt. He was her son: the bond that held them together was tightening even now, pulling them closer, not physically, but on a level neither would be able to put into words even if they tried. He was hanging on desperately to that bond because he needed her, and because for some reason he was afraid she might be letting him go. She had to let him know that would never happen.