Chapter Twenty-one
He was very glad to arrive home, therefore, and even more relieved when Ben announced he was going for a run.
They both needed Ben to expel some of his boundless energy.
They both needed the peace and quiet and the headspace that distance gave them.
When Ben emerged from the bedroom in some running gear, Nikolas merely grunted, “Don’t get lost, and don’t fall in a bog,” to which Ben replied with a derisive snort.
* * *
Ben jogged slowly to the western border of the grounds, to where an old dry stone wall separated them from the open moors and sat on the lichen-covered rocks to tie his laces more securely.
He eyed the moors, wondering which direction he usually went.
He looked south, down along the line of the wall.
He pouted over confused recollections. Someone who hadn’t experienced this would never understand.
It wasn’t as if his mind was a blank page, more like a place filled with tendrils of memory, some almost substantial, some very hazy, but all twined together so the strong image was interrupted by a weak one that might not be related at all.
If he couldn’t remember anything it would be easier.
Now his head hurt all the time with the attempt to untangle the confusion, form fog into the rain of remembrance.
Very hesitantly, he began to run south. After a mile or so, he came to an obvious path to his left back into the grounds and followed it, ducking under ancient oaks. At last he came out into a clearing.
There was an old stone chapel.
* * *
Nikolas heard Ben returning a couple of hours later.
He’d taken the opportunity of his absence to swim for an hour and now he was organising Ulyana Ivanovna’s flights from Russia for Christmas before going for a ride.
Usually Ben came in from a run and either went straight into the shower, or found him and dragged him to the shower, too.
After ten minutes of neither of these happening, Nikolas went to find him to see if he wanted to ride as well.
Ben was standing in the kitchen, back to Nikolas, staring out over the grounds.
Nikolas went up to him and slid his hands around Ben’s waist, tentatively, remembering the reception he’d received the day before.
Ben didn’t shy away, but then he hardly acknowledged him at all.
He was cold, which was unusual after a run.
Nikolas frowned. “Go and shower or you’ll stiffen up.
” He bit lightly into Ben’s neck and amended this to, “Go and shower and hopefully you’ll stiffen up for my return.
I’m going riding. Or I could stay and help with the… stiffening.”
Ben nodded, not apparently listening. “I—” He turned in Nikolas’s arms and gave him a searing look. His eyes were red, as if he’d been exposed to too much second-hand smoke. He seemed about to say something but instead just swallowed and walked slowly away.
Nikolas watched Ben for a moment until he heard a car on the gravel and turned to see Squeezy arriving. It distracted him just enough not to follow Ben, and then he saw the glorious winter day and wanted to be up on the moors.
* * *
When Ben came out of the shower, Squeezy was in the bedroom, rummaging in their wardrobe.
“Where’s that fucking suit I borrowed for your cous—?
That black one from that fuckingly expensive place?
” At Ben’s silence he added, “I gotta go to a fucking funeral next week. Old CO before I joined the regiment. You okay?”
Ben nodded and found the suit for him.
“Shirt?”
Ben handed him a new one still in its packaging.
They went into the kitchen for tea, Squeezy immediately starting to play with Radulf. “The bastard out?”
Ben nodded. “Riding.”
Squeezy laughed. “You knew who I meant.”
Ben smiled weakly and put the kettle on.
“You remember that time we went skiing to Berghof Urban with the REME, or is that in your big fucking memory gap?”
“No, I remember.”
“Remember that colonel who drank you under the table? He was there with his daughter? He was my old CO in 1 Para. Killed on his bloody quad bike last week. It rolled over on him. Funeral’s in Salisbury Cathedral.
Dead posh. PM’s gonna be there an’ all—course he’s General McConaughey now.
Was. Shit. What a fucking stupid way to—”
Ben stared at him. “General McConaughey? The AG?”
“Was, yeah. Retired now, course. Probably too old to ride around on quad bikes, if you ask—What’s wrong?”
“Fuck. He did it. That stupid fucking bastard.”
“Who did what?”
Ben turned away and went into the main living area to the study.
He sat down at one of the computers and tried to turn it on.
He swore, brushed past Squeezy and went across the swim lane into the private rooms at the back.
Squeezy trailed after him. Ben tried Nikolas’s computer too, but swore once more.
“What’s up, Diesel?”
Ben took a deep breath, but before he could answer they heard Nikolas talking to Radulf in the kitchen. Ben pushed past his friend again and followed the sound.
* * *
Nikolas was windblown, cold, and extremely invigorated. He was about to make a move on Ben, when he spotted the other man behind him, so instead he veered to the counter and asked what the suit on the back of the chair was for. Ben ignored this. “Why have the computers all got passwords on them?”
“What? Why—what do you want to know?”
Ben hesitated. “I want to go out to eat. I was going to look for somewhere.”
“Okay. We can go out. I’ll go and change.” He raised his brows at Squeezy as he passed, and the man gave the tiniest shrug, silently communicating with each other, “What’s up with him? No idea.”
Nikolas took longer than he’d planned because he got a text from Emilia with complex questions about her grandmother’s schedule, totally beyond his texting ability to reply to, so he’d told her he’d email her.
Once he got on the computer, he checked his recent investments. Then he had to shower and dress.
An hour later, he was in the kitchen, tossing the keys from one hand to the other and annoying Squeezy, his standby when Ben wasn’t available. He checked his watch. “What did he say he was doing?”
“He didn’t say anything to me. I thought he was in the shower, shagging you.”
Nikolas winced. “No. I thought he was with you. Ben?”
There was no sign of him in the house, which although it was made of glass was extremely large and took some time to search.
They ended up in the main living room, having gone in opposite directions to find Ben.
The computer was on—Google homepage. Nikolas stared at it.
“How did he bypass?—he guessed the password.”
“What?”
“Ben! He guessed the password. I just used my own name. I didn’t have time to think one up.”
“Well Nikolas isn’t fucking hard to guess, is it?”
“No. Aleksey. I used Aleksey…”
They were silent for a moment until Squeezy ventured the obvious hesitantly, “He’s got his memory back?”
Nikolas didn’t reply immediately. He licked his lips. “He was cold. When he came back from his run!” Nikolas suddenly took off, Squeezy not far behind.
They crashed into the garage. It was empty. Ben’s bike was gone.
Lying in the centre of the space, neatly placed, was Ben’s watch—the tracker Nikolas had bought him and had him wear.
Nikolas swore again and picked it up almost reverently.
Squeezy joined him in the cursing, only in English. “Where’s he fucking gone?”
Nikolas didn’t even want to think about possible answers to that question. An event that had caused Ben to completely lose his memory—his mind—had come back to him suddenly. What might it cause him to do this time?
Premorbid tendencies.
They went back into the house, Nikolas phoning the rest of the team to let them know what had happened. He sat at the computer and checked the history. Squeezy was perched on the edge of the desk.
“I shouldn’t have mentioned a fucking funeral. Depressing bloody things at the best of times.”
“He was looking for Atwell.”
“Well, duh. He won’t find him that way. We’ve tried. Katie’s tried, and if she can’t…Fuck, Diesel liked the daughter. I remember now. What was she called? Some posh bloody name. Pippa? Posy? Right looker. Not at a funeral, course.”
“Shut up.”
“Yeah, right you are. Sorry. Only McConaughey was a—”
Nikolas jerked his head up at the name.
* * *
Squeezy told him the story of the retired Adjutant General and the accident on a quad bike. Nikolas remembered an intense ex-major and a message scrawled on a bedroom wall: I will leave darkness behind me.
He frowned back at the computer. Ben had moved on from Atwell to…gay porn?
Squeezy sniggered then saw Nikolas’s expression as he cursed, “That fucking film!”
“What?”
“He’s going to track Atwell using the film company. I forgot! That pretentious fucker was the executive producer on some dumb shit film. Call Kate. Tell her to meet us at the house.”
* * *
It was only as they were halfway to London that Nikolas realised his huge error.
He told Squeezy to pull over, and he did at the next service station.
He sent the other man for coffee.
He sat in the car, the engine ticking quietly.
Had he read this all wrong?
What was Ben thinking?
There were several possibilities as far as Nikolas could see, and none of them were good.
Ben had regained his memories of that night in the water mill. But more than this, perhaps, Ben probably now knew the other things that made up the ten years he’d lost.
And now he hadn’t had time and space to gradually absorb these terrible things back into his life, cope with them, compartmentalize them as everyone had to with bad memories.
Nikolas had enough of these himself to know this was the only way to cope.
Ben, however, had come crashing back to awareness of all these things.
The suicide attempt…
The family he’d gained and lost…
Discovering his mother was dead—murdered…