Chapter 25
NOW
Late August
Wednesday
The doorbell chimed, the sound loud and clear even from the doorstep. I shifted on my feet, suddenly nervous.
It had felt so simple when I left the flat. But what if Ben couldn’t help me? What if the answers were too well hidden? Too buried?
Footsteps moved inside, followed by the soft clunk of the lock turning, before the door swung open.
I blinked.
The scent of coffee hit me as a woman in her early fifties stood in the doorway, wrapped in a pale blue dressing gown, a steaming mug in her hands. Her brow creased as she looked at me. ‘Yes?’
Her gaze flicked over me, lingering over my clothes, my hair. I glanced down, suddenly aware I hadn’t showered or changed. I was still wearing the black leggings and hoodie from last night.
‘I…’ My voice faltered. I ran a hand through my hair, attempting to straighten it. My fingers snagged on something.
‘I’m looking for Ben. Ben Baxter,’ I finished hesitantly, tugging at the knot.
Something came free, and I looked down at the thin piece of hay in my hand. My stomach dropped as I glanced back up, meeting her bewildered expression.
She didn’t respond. She just stared at me.
I bit my lip. The payroll records for the stables were two years old. What if he’d moved?
Ben had been at uni when he worked there. Had he finished? Found a new job in a new town? New county? Was that why he’d left so suddenly?
‘Ben,’ she called over her shoulder towards the stairs.
Relief gushed from my lungs. He still lived here.
‘Someone’s here to see you,’ she added, sounding slightly bemused.
A pause.
‘What?’ Ben’s voice came back, thick with surprise.
Soft thuds and shuffling sounds floated down, followed by footsteps.
The woman gave me a half-smile, before disappearing down the hallway.
Barefooted, wearing only a pair of blue jeans, with a towel draped around his shoulders, Ben bounded down the stairs towards me.
‘Who is it—’
He stopped. His gaze locked on me.
I smiled. Finally, a friendly face. Someone who I could turn to. Rely on.
Except…
I studied his expression. It didn’t look all that friendly. In fact, he looked angry.
‘What the hell are you doing here?’
I blinked, and instinctively took a step back, his words landing like a punch.
‘I need your help—’
‘My help?’ Ben let out a laugh, harsh and hollow.
I flinched. He acted as though my request was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard.
That wasn’t the response of someone who I’d once considered a friend. Why was he being so hostile?
‘You think you can just turn up here at this time in the morning and—’
‘What?’ I glanced at my watch and my eyes widened. 7.11 a.m. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t realise. I’ve been up all night; I had no idea what time it was. I didn’t think to—’
Ben snorted. ‘You didn’t think about someone else? Yeah, that sounds about right.’
‘I—I’m sorry,’ I repeated, stunned by his hostility. ‘I made a mistake.’
‘Yeah, a big mistake, coming here.’
‘I…’ I didn’t know how to respond. My sleep-deprived brain couldn’t piece together what was happening. ‘You’re the only person that I could go to.’
Ben stared at me with disbelief. ‘You seriously think I would help you with anything after what you did?’
‘What I did?’ I shook my head. What was he talking about? What had I done?
‘You got me fired.’
I froze. My brain seized. I couldn’t even begin to process his accusation.
‘Fired?’ I repeated slowly.
He glared at me, his hatred almost tangible now.
‘No.’ I shook my head. ‘I would never—’
He rolled his eyes. ‘Don’t,’ he cut in. ‘Just don’t.’
‘You were my friend. The only person at Blackwater who would really talk to me, let alone help me. And then you just left. You disappeared. You didn’t even say goodbye or keep in touch.’
‘Why would I keep in touch with you after the allegations you made?’
I pressed my hand to my head, but it did nothing to ease the throbbing. ‘What allegations? What are you talking about?’
Ben shook his head. ‘Are you seriously going to stand there and act all innocent? Pretend you didn’t—’
‘I didn’t,’ I urged. ‘Whatever you think I did to you, I didn’t.’
‘Ben?’ His mum appeared behind him, staring at me over his shoulder. ‘Is everything okay?’
Ben shook his head. ‘It’s her. Kirsty Palmer.’
My skin prickled at the way he said my name, full of contempt.
‘The girl from the stables?’ Recognition flashed across her face, before her expression darkened. ‘You need to leave,’ she said firmly, striding forwards, to stand shoulder to shoulder beside her son.
‘But, I—’
‘Now,’ she said, flatly.
I hesitated. I couldn’t just leave. Not like this.
Ben shook his head. ‘Just go home, Kirsty. And don’t come back.’ He reached for the door and slammed it shut.
I stood there for a moment, staring at the dark wood.
My hand lifted slightly, desperation urging me to ring the bell again. To force him to listen. To make him understand.
But I didn’t.
His expression left no room for discussion. His hostility, his certainty, wasn’t going to allow him to hear me out. To believe me.
My shoulders slumped as I turned away and walked back down the driveway towards my car.
Nothing was going to plan.
Worse still, nothing was making any sense.
Instead of gaining Ben’s help, all I’d found were more questions.
And more enemies.