Chapter Forty-Two
Everyone else was in bed, but Cassie was up and waiting anxiously – no, make that frantically!
– for Ben to come home. She’d passed the day in what her sister would call indulging in a spot of recreational freaking-out.
Frankly, she’d gone well beyond that level of worry; she was now at the catastrophising stage.
But when Ben arrived home just after eleven o’clock, and despite being desperate to unburden herself the second he walked through the door, Cassie forced herself to wait.
She could see how tired he was after his trip and knew that he needed a period of decompression before discussing anything of a serious nature.
Adopting as calm a demeanour as she could, she plied him with questions about the bio-tech conference he’d attended while she poured him a tumbler of Coke Zero and made a jam sandwich.
It always amused her that a jam sandwich was his go-to snack whenever he’d been away, or when he wanted something quick and easy to eat. It was a childhood favourite of his.
They sat at the island unit, and he’d taken no more than a few gulps of his drink when he said, ‘What’s up, then, what aren’t you saying?’
She affected a laugh. ‘Nothing’s up,’ she lied.
‘Cassie,’ he said, staring intently at her in the glow of the pendant lights, ‘tell me.’
‘Eat your sandwich.’
He shook his head. ‘Not until you’ve told me whatever it is you’re not saying. I know you; I can see in your face that something’s very wrong. It’s not about us getting married, is it? Have you changed your mind?’
‘No, of course not!’
‘Are you annoyed that I thought we should wait before planning anything until Rosalyn has moved out?’
‘It’s not that. It really isn’t.’
‘Then what is it?’
There was no point in lying to him, so she told him everything, from her organising the search party last night to find Finlay who’d mysteriously gone off with Bon-Bon, and then to this morning when she and Nina had helped bury the little dog.
‘Why on earth didn’t you message me about all this?’
‘I didn’t want to bother you when I knew you were busy.’
‘Not so busy I wouldn’t have wanted to know. Poor Venetia, she must be in a dreadful state.’
‘She is. But there’s worse to tell you, and I need your advice.’
He leant forwards now. ‘Go on.’
Keeping her voice low, she shared with him, word for word, or as near to it as she could, the conversation she’d had with Finlay that afternoon.
All the time he listened, and with small, barely perceptible movements, he shifted the glass and plate in front of him, a classic gesture on his part that he was thinking hard. ‘And you believe Finlay?’ he asked when she’d finished.
‘I do. Why else would such a young child make up something as twisted and sick as that, and be as matter of fact about it? That was what I found so disturbing, that he didn’t seem to have any idea that what he’d admitted to was so terrible.
He wasn’t at all upset that Bon-Bon was dead because of him; instead he was more concerned about me not telling Rosalyn that he’d wet himself. ’
‘Surely it was obvious that he had?’
‘He was drenched from all the rain, so probably no, it wasn’t obvious.’
Ben sipped his drink and took a bite of his jam sandwich, chewing on it thoughtfully. ‘Have you said anything to Rosalyn about this?’
‘God no! That’s what I need your advice for. Do I tell her? But what are the chances she refuses to believe me, accuses me of making things up about Drew because I hated him or—?’ Cassie threw her hands in the air. ‘Or thinks I’m jealous of her for having made him happy when I couldn’t.’
Ben frowned. ‘She doesn’t strike me as the sort to think anything like that.’
‘You didn’t see her last night. Undeniably she was out of her mind with fear and panic when Finlay was missing, but the way she turned on Emily, she was so vicious about it.
Even when Finlay was found, she was still incredibly nasty to Emily.
And she turned on me this afternoon because she thought I wasn’t taking good enough care of her son.
It’s like she’s suddenly a different person. She’s scarily volatile.’
‘It could just be shock,’ Ben said. Then: ‘Do you think she has any inkling about the way Drew disciplined and punished Finlay?’
‘I haven’t a clue. For all we know, maybe he treated her similarly.’
‘Treated who similarly?’
The question came from Emily who, wearing a cropped T-shirt and a pair of cotton pyjama shorts, had appeared in the kitchen without either of them noticing.
‘Oh, it’s nothing,’ Cassie said with a shrug. ‘I thought you were having an early night, love?’
‘I couldn’t sleep.’ She came and sat on the stool next to Cassie. ‘Is that what I think it is,’ she said, pointing at Ben’s jam sandwich.
He smiled. ‘Sure is. Want a bite?’
Emily pulled a face. ‘Nah, you’re fine. What were you both discussing so quietly, like you didn’t want anyone to hear?’
‘Your mum was telling me about Finlay going missing and Bon-Bon drowning in the river,’ Ben said. ‘It must have been a horrendous experience for you. How are you feeling?’
‘I’m okay, thanks.’
‘Really?’ he said.
His voice being soft with concern filled Cassie’s heart with love for him. He’d always been so good at cajoling Emily into opening up in a way that Cassie sometimes failed to do.
‘It was horrible,’ Emily admitted. ‘I can’t stop thinking about it.’
Cassie reached over and covered her daughter’s hand with one of her own. But she didn’t speak.
‘I was so scared that Finlay might have fallen in the river,’ Emily continued, ‘and it would have been my fault. As it is, Venetia probably thinks I’m to blame for Bon-Bon drowning. If I hadn’t taken Finlay to go and see her little dog, none of this would have happened.’
‘I doubt very much that Venetia holds you responsible in any way,’ Ben said.
‘You’re wrong, I am responsible for what happened and there’s nothing anyone can say to change that.’
This was too much for Cassie. ‘Ems, you only feel that now because it’s all still so very raw for you.’
‘I know you’re trying to make me feel better, Mum, but the truth is I did take my eye off Finlay. I was chatting to Venetia about what I planned to do next, about getting a job, and I was … well … never mind that. The bottom line is that I messed up and now Bon-Bon’s dead.’
Cassie didn’t push it, but changing tack, and knowing that she was entering hyper-dangerous territory, she said, ‘Ems, has Finlay ever said or done anything that has given you cause to be concerned about him?’
Both Emily and Ben looked at her, and for quite different reasons. Ben clearly was wary of what Cassie might be going on to say and Emily just looked puzzled. ‘In what way?’ she asked.
‘Oh, you know, little things like … like … ’ Cassie bottled it and fell silent.
‘Like what, Mum?’ pressed Emily.
‘Maybe this is a conversation that can wait until the morning,’ suggested Ben.
Emily looked at him sharply. ‘This has something to do with what you were talking about when I came in, doesn’t it? Why don’t you just come right out and say whatever it is you’re tiptoeing around?’
Ben caught Cassie’s eye as if to say: Over to you. Your call.
‘The thing is, Ems,’ said Cassie, deciding to jump in and to hell with the consequences.
‘Finlay told me something this afternoon that has shocked me and I don’t know what to do about it.
Not that I have to do anything, but I feel I should.
It would be the right thing to do. For his own good, really. ’
‘For God’s sake, Mum, what is this? Is this one of your mountain-out-of-a-molehill moments? Don’t you think we’ve had enough drama?’
‘It’s rather more than that, Ems.’
‘Then just frickin’ well tell me!’
Cassie did just that while Ben silently observed Emily, as though studying her face to see how she would react.
Her response was to ask the same question Ben had posed when Cassie had said her piece. ‘Do you believe Finlay?’
‘I find I can’t not believe him,’ Cassie answered, ‘purely because he was so matter of fact about it and seemed to think that behaviour like that was perfectly normal.’ She gave a little shiver. ‘There was something disturbingly cold-blooded about his admission.’
‘Wait, can we just circle back to the fact that we’re talking about a four-and-a-half-year-old boy, and children that age aren’t capable of being cold-blooded. It’s not in their nature.’
‘You weren’t there when he was saying all this,’ said Cassie.
‘But children are always making things up or telling lies,’ Emily said. ‘Maybe he’s just seen something on his iPad or the TV that made him invent this story.’
‘Or he could be telling the truth and as adults we would be doing him a great injustice by not believing him.’
This was from Ben, and Cassie could have hugged him for backing her.
It was such a relief she was no longer dealing with this singlehandedly.
She’d had all afternoon and evening to go over everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours, and the one thing she kept coming back to was that she felt uncomfortable around Finlay, knowing what he’d told her.
It chilled her to the marrow every time she pictured the boy thinking it was perfectly reasonable to throw Venetia’s beloved dog into the river to make him behave.
It chilled her too that whenever she looked at him now, she wouldn’t be able to rid herself of the thought that he was a dangerous sadist in the making.
She didn’t dare voice this for fear of being accused of overreacting.
She could just imagine Emily saying that she’d been listening to too many true crime podcasts and saw the worst in everyone, even a small boy.
‘I remember when I was at junior school,’ Ben said, getting to his feet and going over to the dishwasher to put his plate and glass in the racks, ‘there was a girl who was something of an oddball, she rarely said anything and was as jumpy as hell. She just didn’t fit in and one day, when she was yet again picked on by a group of girls, she went berserk, broke one girl’s nose and kicked another so hard on the ankle, the girl was on crutches for a week. ’
‘And the point of that tale?’ asked Emily.
‘It turned out all was not well at home,’ Ben explained, closing the dishwasher and turning to face them, ‘the father ruled with a rod of iron and the mother regularly had accidents, like falling downstairs or walking into doors. She ended up killing her husband and being sent to prison for it. I never knew what happened to the girl. I’ve often wondered. ’
‘Right, so let me get this straight,’ said Emily. ‘You think that Drew, my dad, was some kind of abusive monster and has turned Finlay into a mini version of himself? Is that what you’re both saying?’ She flipped her defiantly challenging gaze between the two of them.
‘It’s something we have to consider,’ Cassie said. ‘Surely you can see that?’
‘Then what? When we’ve considered it from all angles, what do we do?’
That, thought Cassie with a heavy heart, was the million-dollar question.