I Do Not Sleep (31 page)

When I woke up again the sun was high in the sky. I stretched, completely relaxed, feeling as if I’d slept for days. The happiness of the night had stayed with me. I felt as if I’d completed a long quest; that I’d successfully reached the finishing line after an interminable marathon that had nearly killed me. I luxuriated in bed, allowing peaceful waves of pleasure to wash over me.

Something, a strong instinct, was telling me my dream of the island was significant, that it was more than an attractive and restful fantasy. What had Len told me while he lay dying in his hospital bed? That I would first see the island when I was with Adam, and that it would mean nothing to me at the time. I would understand only later the place’s true purpose, what it really signified for me. And now he had sent me the dream. He meant me to understand something momentous. And was that something that Joey was dead? My son’s spirit had appeared to me and told me all was well, he was happy. Was that all that my dream had told me? Should I now give up the search, find Adam and go back home to a new life?

But why, then, was Len’s ghost so eager to take me to Lammana? Why had I met my son in a dream on the very island that had compelled me to walk for miles to look at it?

And why had I made that same daily journey, in some kind of trance, just after Joey’s empty boat was found wrecked? What was my subconscious trying to tell me?

I leapt out of bed. I had to get back to the island straightaway. I had to walk on it once more, this time awake and aware. Because something was missing from my interpretation of last night’s dream. Where was my son, his physical remains? I had to find Joey.

I dressed hurriedly and was rushing out of the front door when my mobile rang. I looked in my bag; it wasn’t there. Damn. What had I done with it? I ran upstairs to the bedroom, and there it was on the little lamp table under the window. I picked it up and answered without looking at the caller ID.

It was Adam. His voice was urgent. ‘Molly? Ben’s back in Polperro. I want to see him.’

‘How do you know he’s back?’ I asked.

‘I saw him,’ said Adam grimly. ‘I was coming to see you, and as I pulled into the top car park I saw him coming out of the Crumplehorn. I ran after him but by the time I reached the lane he’d disappeared. I don’t know where he lives, but I’m going to find him.’

‘Where are you now?’

‘Still at the car park. I was thinking of going into the Crumplehorn and asking if anyone knows where he lives.’

‘No, Adam. Don’t do that. We need to call him first.’

‘Why? You said he ran away from you when you met him at the Blue Peter. Why give him the chance to refuse to see us? He’s obviously got something to hide. We need to confront him.’

I remembered Ben’s scared face as we walked through the village that day. If we surprised him, ‘confronted’ him as Adam wanted to, Ben would see it as aggressive. I felt sure this was not the way to talk to Ben. He would respond best to gentleness – he would only open up if he felt we were not going to blame him for whatever had happened to Joey. And at the moment, Adam was looking to blame him.

‘No, Adam. Please listen to me. Can you and I meet and talk first? We need to plan this. I’ll walk up to the Crumplehorn now, and I’ll see you inside in about ten minutes.’

Adam grumpily acquiesced, and I finally left the cottage to meet him. As I walked up through the village, I worried about my husband’s fury; not just with Ben, but also me. I dreaded a row, and it wouldn’t get us anywhere. I prayed that Adam would listen to me and accept we had to tread carefully with Ben. I was also frustrated at not being able to go back to the island straightaway, and wondered if Adam, not content with simply antagonising Ben, would stop me from doing that as well. He was in an uncompromising mood, my husband, a familiar stubborn cussedness I recognised from the occasions when things were not going well at his school. For a moment I thought of not going to the Crumplehorn. I could ring Adam and make some excuse, tell him I had a headache and needed to lie down. Then I could get a taxi to Looe harbour and find a boatman to take me to the island.

I sighed. It was no good. If I didn’t meet Adam, he’d only go storming off on his own, find Ben and no doubt start a humungous row. Ben would shut the door in his face, and probably disappear to avoid talking to us. It was best I was there to keep things calm. And I suddenly remembered that Len had said something else on his last day. He said I must talk to Ben; he said the boy was important. Ben was next. The old man’s mysterious messages had all made sense so far. Perhaps I should talk to Ben before I went back to the island. Perhaps that was the right order; the Charmer knew what he was talking about.

I walked into the Crumplehorn. It was a big pub, full of dark brown tables and banquettes, and I couldn’t see Adam at first. Eventually I found him in a small side room, an airy red-carpeted snug containing just two tables, one of which was empty. At the other Adam sat nursing a half of cider. He looked very serious and I was glad that we had the room to ourselves.

He stood up when he saw me. I raised my eyebrows at his cider, and he looked at his watch. ‘It’s nearly midday. Do you want a drink?’ he asked.

‘Nothing alcoholic, not yet. I’ll have a Diet Coke, please.’ Adam stuck his head into a hatch dividing the snug from the bar, and moments later my Coke stood on the ledge. He passed it to me and sat down.

‘Right,’ he said. ‘How are we going to go about this?’

‘Adam,’ I began. ‘Of course we must talk to Ben, about everything that was going on between him and Joey that Easter. But we must tread carefully; if we don’t, I think he’ll bolt. Let me fill you in on what I heard last night at the Blue Peter.’

I told him what Queenie and Wren had said about Ben’s strange behaviour at that time, about what Wren called the ‘Manchester gangsters’ and Ben’s involvement with them. Adam listened eagerly. ‘Can I meet this Wren?’ he asked. ‘It seems like he could be the missing link.’

‘Yes, you can talk to him later,’ I said. ‘But first we’ve got to find Ben. Please, Adam, when we talk to him, let me take the lead. If you get angry, he’ll just walk out.’

Adam looked belligerent, then he flung his head back and gave a great sigh. ‘Yes, OK, Molly. That makes sense. You always were closer to him. He saw you as a substitute mother, I think.’

I was grateful for Adam’s obvious effort to be conciliatory. ‘Yes,’ I replied. ‘I was always very fond of him, and I think he trusted me. It’s been a long time, and something terrible happened to Joey, but I agree with you that Ben knows more than he’s ever said. We must get it out of him, but, Adam, I beg you, be gentle. He’s still young, and whatever it was, he’s probably traumatised by it.’

Adam nodded in agreement. I got my phone out of my bag and pressed Ben’s number.

He answered immediately.

Chapter Forty-Seven

We sat in the garden at Coombe. Ben had agreed to talk to us, but not at the pub. I suggested the old farmhouse, because Adam had told me Danny and Lola had taken Edie out for the day. I also knew Ben had fond memories of the place, having joined us there on so many family holidays as Joey’s best friend.

So we picked him up at the car park, and drove back to Treworgey. Ben was bashful, shy, and Adam was as good as his word. He talked to Ben in a fatherly way, asking about his work and his life, and by the time we got to Coombe the atmosphere in the car was as cordial as it could be, given the circumstances.

When we arrived at the house, I realised Adam was wrong about Danny and Lola. It turned out that they had gone to the beach earlier, but it was crowded and Edie was playing up, so they’d come home. When we walked into the garden Edie was in the middle of a marathon hike, chubby legs stomping over the grass, an enormous grin on her face, and her parents were dutifully clapping her progress. Ben saw them all before they noticed him, and stopped short. His eyes widened with a kind of wonder as he looked at the baby; at that moment Danny looked up and saw his little brother’s best mate. He got to his feet with a whoop, and engulfed Ben in a strong embrace. Edie stopped in the middle of her power-toddle, staring at the stranger wrapped in her daddy’s arms. Then she tottered across to them and flung her own little limbs around their legs. Danny picked her up and thrust her towards Ben. He took her and she immediately gave him a great big sloppy kiss. Ben laughed with delight, twirled her around and all three of them collapsed on the grass next to Lola.

I watched this happy tableau with tears of happiness. It was almost as if Joey were here too. I could sense his presence in the garden, see him smiling at his friend, his brother and his niece. Danny had had no idea that Ben was in Cornwall, and was astonished to see him. They chattered and laughed, touching each other on the shoulder, their eyes shining with pleasure at the sight of each other.

Adam and I left them to it and retired to the kitchen. We had a brief discussion and decided that it was a good thing Danny and his little family was here. Ben would be more relaxed, and we could all have a calm talk about Joey, rather than an awkward exchange dominated by two tense and anxious parents.

Adam took cider and wine out to the garden; I followed with a tray of glasses, crisps and olives. We set it out on the small picnic table, and Edie immediately started demolishing the crisps. When everyone had a drink I looked at Adam. He nodded, and I began.

I asked Ben to tell us again what had happened on that Easter day five years ago. Danny looked startled and started to protest. He didn’t want to talk about something so dark on a sunny day with his wife and baby by his side, but Lola calmly stroked his arm, and Danny subsided.

Ben was silent for a minute, looking down at the grass. Then he raised his eyes and looked straight at me. ‘I’m sorry for running off when you tried to talk to me the other day, Molly. I couldn’t talk to you then. I’ve been thinking hard since. I can’t tell you any more than I know, and you must understand, both of you, Adam and Molly, that I really don’t know where Joey is.’ He looked pleadingly at us, his handsome hawk-like face with its prominent nose and sharp intelligent eyes restlessly sweeping from Adam’s face to mine.

‘What happened, Ben? Why did Joey take the boat out on his own?’ My voice was gentle.

Ben stood up and walked to the end of the garden. Edie watched him with interest. He stood next to the fence and faced us all with a desperate dignity.

‘This isn’t easy,’ he said quietly. ‘I’ve behaved like a shit. I’ve been trying to forget what happened for five years now. But I’ll tell you. You’ll probably hate me. I actually hate myself. But you must believe that I didn’t mean to harm Joey. I would never have done that in a million years. I loved him, you see.’ Ben looked at each of us in turn, fastening his gaze at last on Danny. He kept his eyes on Joey’s brother as he began to tell us his story.

‘You know all about the drugs I took when I was a teenager; I was pretty wild then, completely out of control. That’s why Mum threw me out – I used to fill the house with some real dross, dealers, and she couldn’t take it. She had M.E. as well; some days she couldn’t get out of bed. Dad was useless as far as I was concerned, and his new wife couldn’t stand me. I don’t blame any of them now; I was really obnoxious. But at the time I hated them, I was so angry. I used to come to your house with Joey for Sunday lunch, and I wanted what he had so much: a normal, loving family.

‘It wasn’t until I went to university that I began to calm down. I started to feel more normal. I was no longer a sixteen-year-old freak with no home and parents who detested me. I was an ordinary student, living in a Hall of Residence, and doing well on my course. I discovered I had a talent for film-making. I had a future at last and I was ambitious. I virtually stopped the drugs; I calmed down. And then, in my second year, something happened. I faced up to the idea that I was gay.’

Danny’s eyes widened with surprise. He glanced at me but I was just as astonished as my son. I had had no idea of Ben’s sexuality. He saw that we were both startled and smiled ruefully.

‘I’m not surprised you didn’t guess,’ he went on. ‘I went to great lengths to conceal it. I never came out at school. I had girlfriends like everyone else. Joey had no idea, nobody did. I never told a soul. But it was soul destroying, and in my second year I started to crack up. I went to gay clubs, got picked up by older men, but I hated myself. I started to drink a lot, and I got back into drugs big time; not only weed, but cocaine, ecstasy, ketamine. Eventually heroin. I wasn’t an addict, but I was getting there fast. Joey couldn’t understand it. He’d thought I was clean, and suddenly I was worse, more obnoxious than I’d ever been.

‘We’d planned the boating holiday in Polperro for a long time, but Joey got cold feet when I fell off the wagon. He wanted to cancel it, but I was desperate to get away from Manchester, so I promised him I wouldn’t do anything stupid while we were away. Joey wasn’t happy, but I think he felt responsible for me.

‘So off we went, and I was ecstatic at first. It couldn’t last, though. Joey hadn’t a clue about my sexuality – I was still pretending to fancy girls. But I started to unravel in Polperro. You see, being gay wasn’t my only secret. It wasn’t even the biggest, and there was no way I could confide in Joe. The fact was… I was in love with him. Had been for years.