Chapter 33
The letterbox snapped shut and from his front room, Ben heard the thud of a package land on the mat.
Making sure he put the latch on to stop his door slamming shut behind him, he went out and scooped up all the post lying on the floor.
Sorting through it, he tucked the letter addressed to him under his arm, leaving the rest of the mail on the shelf for his neighbours, before returning to his flat.
He recognised his sister’s handwriting on the front of the cream envelope and, opening it, he pulled out a note inviting him for Sunday lunch again soon, and a smaller letter addressed to Fred with a Post-it note attached that read:
Uncle Ben, please give this letter to Fred. I,ve made it very small so it will fit through his letterbox. Do not open it. It is for Fred only. Mummy says you,ll just pretend to do it, so please send a photo of Fred reading his letter. See you soon. Love from Evie xxx
Ben put the letter to one side with a groan.
He really didn’t want to spend his day trying to get a photo of Fred appearing to read a letter.
Instead, he decided a picture of him posting it through the letterbox would do, so feeling rather foolish, but nevertheless not wanting to disappoint his niece, he slotted the envelope through the opening and sent Penny the photo.
He took a moment to admire his handiwork.
The house really did look good, although he still hadn’t seen Fred use it.
He wondered if it might be damp, and crouched down to feel inside, his fingers catching on something soft and furry.
With a squeal that became a manly shout in later retellings, he whipped out his hand, terrified – again, later adjusted to merely concerned – that there was a mouse, or worse, a rat, in there.
Cautiously, using the torch on his phone, he shone the light into the interior.
The purple walls glowed and Ben could see Evie’s pictures – he really hoped Fred liked Frozen – that adorned the walls, together with, tucked away in the furthest corners, several fabric mice in various states of destruction, one with its stuffing spilling out, a bald tennis ball, a plastic ball with a bell inside, a Lego man, several foam bullets from a Nerf gun and, somewhat randomly, a KitKat wrapper.
Ben withdrew his phone and straightened up. Where had all these things come from? Were they Fred’s, or was the cat using his house to hide stolen goods?
The bar was quiet, as was often the case on a weekday, and Ben very much preferred it to the hectic surge on a Friday or Saturday night.
Sometimes he missed the buzz – the DJ playing in the corner, partygoers talking loudly and drinking too fast, the press of bodies at the bar – but tonight he was glad that there was a more peaceful vibe.
There were enough people, so the pub didn’t feel completely empty, but he didn’t have to shout to be heard, and, after wrestling with Fred to attach the new note to his collar, he was pleased to just hang out at his local with Taz, chewing the fat over a drink or two.
‘So, how did it go yesterday? Did you “exchange clothing”?’ asked Taz, taking a last sip from his pint and signalling to the barmaid for two more.
Ben nodded. ‘Yeah. It was good. We ended up chatting for ages.’
He told Taz how he and Jenni had completely lost track of time and had stayed till closing time, eventually being bustled out by the owner.
‘So you’re going to meet up with her again, then?’
‘Yeah, we’re going to go to our old station, actually. It’s a gallery now, all looks very swanky apparently, and I fancy having a look around. There’s a small exhibition about the history of the fire station. You should come.’
‘Of course I’m not going to come, you weirdo. I don’t fancy playing gooseberry!’
‘It’s not a date,’ Ben said, seriously.
‘Sounds like one to me,’ the barmaid with blue hair said, as she placed a couple more beers down in front of them before stomping off back to the bar.
‘It’s not a date!’ Ben called out to her retreating back.
He turned back to Taz. ‘It’s not! She just wants to see the work of this artist, and I fancied having a look at the old fire station.
It made sense to go together. We’re just going to meet up first and get a quick—oh my God, she’s going to think it’s a date!
I’ve asked her on a date and I didn’t even realise!
What have I done?’ Ben reached over for his glass in a panic and took a long gulp of beer.
‘So what if it is a date?’ asked Taz, as Ben spluttered into his drink. ‘Okay, okay, not a real date,’ Taz hastily amended ‘but whatever it is, she said yes, so what’s the big deal?’
Ben opened his mouth to reply. Where to begin?
‘Look, if you’re that worried, just tell her you can’t make it?’ suggested Taz.
Ben thought about it. Yes, that could work. But… but, if he was being honest, he was looking forward to seeing Jenni again.
Taz watched his friend as this realisation played out on his face.
‘Don’t overthink it. Just go. Nerd out over the history, whatever. You might even have a good time.’
Ben nodded, trying to calm his anxiety. Or was it excitement?
The conversation moved on to work, but Ben’s mind was still on the date-not-date.
He’d enjoyed chatting to Jenni once they’d got over the initial awkwardness, and the conversation had flowed.
She was funny and interesting; he’d enjoyed making her laugh, and the passion she’d shown when talking about art, and the gentle banter that they’d slipped into.
And she was interested in him, too; had seemed genuinely curious to find out about his job and how he coped with the stress of saving lives.
He’d told her about Penny, and Evie. And while he’d told her that some call-outs were harder than others, he hadn’t gone into details.
Hadn’t told her about some of the more harrowing scenes he’d attended.
He also hadn’t mentioned Luisa. He hadn’t felt ready for that conversation yet. And he certainly hadn’t told her about what had happened to him when she’d left him. But there was something about Jenni that made him feel he could trust her, something Ben hadn’t felt for a long time.