I Do Not Sleep (7 page)

It was late in the morning when they arrived, a subdued but obviously better Edie with them. Their relief was palpable, happy smiles on their faces as we all sat together round the kitchen table.

‘They said she’ll be fine, Mum,’ said Danny.

‘But honestly, I’m glad we took her to hospital, even though it turns out she’s OK,’ said Lola. ‘They’ve given us antibiotics and a kind of vapouriser to help her breathing. The doctor said she was convinced she’d get better soon.’

‘Of course she will. You were just doing your job as parents,’ I said. ‘You both look knackered, though.’

‘We didn’t get much sleep on the ward. It was so busy, and we were worried about the baby.’

‘Why don’t you both go upstairs for a rest?’ I asked. ‘You can leave Edie with us. We might take her out to lunch, if that’s OK?’

‘That would be wonderful,’ smiled Lola. ‘Are you sure you don’t mind, Adam?’

‘I was going to take Molly out anyway. Edie will be a delightful extra guest.’

So, off we went, Edie in her baby seat in the Volvo, still a bit peaky but bravely chuckling away as we drove. We decided to drive to Fowey, crossing over on the ferry from Bodinnick. We did some shopping at the fish shop, at Kittow’s Butchers, and – I insisted – The Romantic Englishwoman. There I bought the baby a tiny stuffed rabbit that played Brahms’ Lullaby when you pulled its tail. I could never resist this shop, full of the most charming little gifts, nightwear, quilts and candles. I always bought presents for the only two girls in my family here, deprived as I had been of giving feminine cadeaux within my predominantly masculine environment. I found a pretty cotton dressing gown for Lola, a summer print of delicate blue flowers.

Then we headed for lunch at Polkerris. It was a sunny day, and we ate outside at Sam’s on the Beach. Afterwards, we would let Edie play on the sand, maybe even get her little toes wet in the small, calm, waltzing waves. And it began as the perfect afternoon I’d planned. A halcyon day to treasure, warm as toast, clear and bright as a pathway to heaven.

As our drinks arrived, I took a deep breath, and as Edie played happily with her new toy bunny rabbit, biting its ears and sucking its tail, I told Adam everything that had happened to me since the night before last. I told him about hearing Joey’s voice in the moonlit garden. And I told him about the scarecrow at Jamaica Inn.

Adam listened, concern written all over his face as he tried very hard to take me seriously.

‘OK, Molly. I do get that you are totally convinced something’s happened to Joe that isn’t just a tragic accident, and that you feel you have to find out the truth. And I could tell when you were so determined to go to that silly old so-called haunted pub that you were expecting something significant to happen. You were at fever-pitch; I’m not surprised you thought you saw some macabre vision.’

I resisted the urge to snap back at him. After all, he was right. I had felt compelled to drive to the Inn. It was irrational. My glimpse of that animated horror of a scarecrow was about as convincing as thinking the wicked old witches stirring their cauldron in Polperro’s Land of Legend had suddenly come to life and stepped out of their glass case. Actually, it was a relief to be told I’d imagined it. Because I had, of course. Adam’s brisk common sense felt like a welcome cold shower of reality. I smiled at him, glad that I had such a strong, sensible husband.

‘I was feeling very highly strung,’ I agreed. ‘Coming back to Cornwall sort of pushed me into a nightmare. I went to Jamaica Inn precisely because it
is
supposed to be haunted; I suppose I subconsciously wanted to see something that would tell me I’m on the right track, that Joey needs me to find him. But, Adam, that’s why I need to talk to Ben. If I can just find out everything that happened that day, it might bring me some peace.’

‘Oh, Molly. I really don’t think you should do that.’

‘But why not?’

Adam briefly closed his eyes. When he opened them, he leaned forward, stared closely at me and took my hand.

‘I don’t think you understand what you’ll be getting into if you rake all this up again with Ben. You remember how he used to be so into drugs? I do, and I’m worried that had something to do with what happened that day in Polperro. There are things he doesn’t want to tell us. And I think with good reason. Joey’s gone. We don’t need to sully his memory by dragging up nasty stuff. We don’t need to know. You, especially; you must stop digging. Believe me, it’s for the best.’

‘What are you talking about?’ I asked, horrified. ‘What things does Ben not want us to know? Drugs? Joey? You must be mad. I need to talk to Ben and I’m going to.’

Adam looked almost threateningly grim.

‘Have you thought what seeing Ben again, talking about that day, will do to Danny? Do you even begin to realise what that will do to his peace of mind, his happiness, to rake all this up again?’

I was bewildered.

‘Danny really thought this was all over,’ said Adam. His tone became increasingly serious. ‘He misses Joey enormously, of course he does, but he’s young, Molly. His life has moved on and he wants us to acknowledge that a future is unfolding for him. I admire him, I really do. He’s determined that his life with Lola and Edie will be fruitful, happy. He won’t let his brother’s tragic death blight their lives.’

My eyes filled with tears. I hated it when Adam said ‘death.’

‘I won’t accept he’s dead, Adam. There’s no proof. He’s just missing. But of course I want Danny to be happy. Of course I do.’

‘Then, to be honest, Moll, you’ve got to let this go.’

Yes,
I thought.
I suppose I must. I have to think of the future, of the happiness of my remaining son. Which means letting go of Joey. What’s done is done. Joey is gone. Danny and Edie are the future
.

But as I tried to let that thought absorb me, tried so hard to let Joey sink into his watery grave, his voice came back to me.
Mother. Find me.
And I knew I had no choice.

I shook myself. I tried to pretend to Adam that I was fine, I understood his urgent plea not to phone Ben, not to dig any further. We finished our lunch and carried Edie the few steps down to the beach. I laughed, sang silly songs with her as she sat on the sand. But I had to talk to Ben, of course I did. My son’s insistent call would not be denied.

Chapter Thirteen

That evening, I made up my mind. I would call Ben. Danny and Lola had gone upstairs, giving Edie a bath before putting her to bed. Adam had driven into Looe to buy groceries, kindling and wine. I picked up the phone, feeling sneaky. I resented the way I felt guilty, the fact that I had to make this call under the radar because everyone would be cross with me if they knew.
For Christ’s sake
, I thought, annoyed,
I’m a grown-up, I know what I’m doing. I don’t have to get everyone’s permission to make a phone call
.

I had to steel myself to pick up the receiver and dial the number I found for Ben in my diary. I had painstakingly transferred his mobile number into each new yearly aide-memoir, every single January since Joey had disappeared. I felt I had to, that not to make a note of Ben’s whereabouts would somehow betray my son. But I had never called Ben, never spoken to him, not once since the inquest decided Joey had died in an accident at sea. And he had not attempted to contact me. Perhaps, for him too, the whole episode had been too cruel to revisit.

We both had a lot of explaining to do. I felt I owed him an apology for my distance. As I dialled his number, I felt sick with apprehension.

A woman picked up. She sounded young, but then of course Ben was only twenty-five. I realised I didn’t even know where Ben lived now, let alone if he had a girlfriend. I’d assumed he’d stayed in Manchester; if Adam or Danny knew where he was, neither had said a word to me. But of course, they wouldn’t. They had to tread so carefully around my grief.

I asked for Ben. There was a brief hiatus. And then:

‘Hello?’ A young, hesitant, masculine voice. ‘Who is this?’

‘Ben, it’s me. Molly Gabriel. Joey’s mum.’

There was a pause. Then an attempt at a hearty welcome.

‘Molly. Mrs Gabriel. How amazing to hear from you, after all this time.’

‘Yes. I’m sorry, Ben. I should have contacted you a long time ago. It’s just… well it’s been difficult.’

A pause, and then, ‘How… how are you?’

‘I’m fine; it’s just… I know it’s been ages, but do you think we could meet? The strange thing is I’m in Cornwall – the first time I’ve been back since…’

‘Ahhh. I see. Where are you?’

‘At Coombe in Treworgey. I suppose you remember it?’

‘God, yes. So well. We had such brilliant times there.’

‘We did.’ I took a deep breath. I wanted to sound warm, not pleading. ‘Ben, I need to see you.’

‘Yes. OK. Could I ask why now, after all these years?’

‘Being back here has flagged up so many memories.’ I rubbed my eyes, impatient with the tears threatening to escape. ‘There’s still so much I don’t understand about what happened to Joey. I so want to talk to you, to find out what really happened.’

‘But, Mrs Gabriel…’

‘Please call me Molly.’

‘Molly, I told you everything about that day. I really did. I haven’t got much to add.’

I remembered what Adam had said about Ben on Polkerris Beach:
There are things he doesn’t want to tell us
. I had to convince the boy I wasn’t threatening him.

‘I accept that, Ben. I’m not suggesting you’ve held anything back. This is just for me. Look, I’ll tell you that coming back to Cornwall wasn’t my idea. But we did it for Danny.’

‘Danny? How is he?’

My voice softened. ‘He’s well. Married now, and with a gorgeous baby girl. We’re all here together. I suppose we’re trying to reclaim Cornwall, to try and remember it before… Well, to get the joy back, the love we felt for the place before…’

‘I understand that, and it’s very brave. But very hard, I would think?’

‘Enormously hard. And that’s why I want to see you again, to talk and lay demons to rest.’

Another long pause.

‘I’m not sure I can do that, Molly.’

‘Yes you can, Ben. In fact, only you can.’

He sighed.

‘All right. I’ll come to Coombe. Is tomorrow afternoon OK?’

‘What? How can you get down so fast from Manchester? I mean,’ I said, confused and aware I was waffling, ‘what about work? Won’t you have to get time off to come down here?’

‘Mrs Gabriel. Molly. I live in Cornwall now. In fact, I live in Polperro.’

That was a total shock. Astonishing, actually. My mind caved into all sorts of strange perceptions. Ben lived in Polperro? The village where my son had disappeared? Why on earth would a young man who had shared a terrible experience, had lost his best friend, want to live in the place where tragedy had happened?

I asked him, hesitantly, why he had moved down here. He took a while before answering.

‘It’s complicated, Molly. There’s a lot to talk about. But it’s not really to do with what happened to Joey.’

No? I didn’t believe him. This was a coincidence too far. I was silent, and eventually he responded.

‘Look, I fell in love with someone down here. Someone Cornish, and we’re together. So, after I finished Uni in Manchester, I came back down. I’ve been here for nearly four years now.’

Why did this seem like a betrayal? It wasn’t, of course. Ben had an absolute right to live wherever he chose. So why did I feel I’d been kicked in the stomach? Why was I so instinctively hostile to the idea that the boy who had been the closest to my son’s last moments on earth had chosen to live so near to the seas that had claimed his life?

I hid my dismay, of course. I also decided Ben could not possibly come to Coombe. So much to explain, and it would involve Adam and Danny. I wasn’t ready for that.

‘Could we meet somewhere else, Ben?’ I asked tentatively. ‘I mean, it will all be a bit of a shock for Danny. I’d like to talk things through first. I’m sorry, but this is all to do with me. I don’t want to upset anyone else.’

There was a pause, and I realised that of course I was upsetting Ben. He must hate being reminded of all this. It was ruthless, but I had to insist. So when he suggested he could meet me at the Blue Peter in Polperro tomorrow at one p.m., I agreed immediately.

It was only when I’d put the phone down that I realised I had just made an appointment to see the last person who had seen Joey alive at the very place where he was supposed to meet my son on the day of his death.

Disappearance
, I told myself desperately.
Not death. Not yet
.

Chapter Fourteen