Ben.
‘You can come outside with me the easy way, right now,’ Ben said softly, ‘or I can drag you out by the hair. Either way, I’m going to tell you what I came here to tell you.’
‘Go fuck yourself,’ Jude said. ‘I’m not interested. And you can tell my father to stick his Christmas tree up his …’
Before he could finish the sentence, Jude was out of his seat and travelling through the air over the top of the table. His feet barely touched the floor as Ben manhandled him through the door and out into the hallway.
‘Let go of him!’ Robbie yelled, making a feeble grab for Ben’s arm.
‘You stand down, boy,’ Ben commanded him, with the full force of a British Army major’s authority. Robbie instantly backed off, deflating like a punctured ball.
Jude put up a spirited resistance as Ben dragged him outside, struggling wildly and trying to lash out with his fists. Ben blocked three pretty good punches before he lost patience with the kid and trapped his wrist in an Aikido lock that very quickly subdued his fighting spirit.
‘Aaagghh! That hurts! Please!’
‘Have I got your attention now?’ Ben asked, keeping the pressure on the wrist.
‘Yes!’
‘Promise to behave?’
‘Yes!’
Ben let go. Jude tore away from him, nursing his hand and about to make some furious retort when the sight of the Mazda parked across the yard stopped him dead. ‘What’re you doing with my mum’s car?’ he asked in a hollow voice.
Ben guided him towards the car. The music in the barn had stopped, and a silence thicker than the mist hung over the farm. ‘Listen, Jude. There’s something you need to know.’
Inside the car, the dog barked at the sight of Jude and started scrabbling at the window.
‘Why is Scruffy here?’ Jude said.
Ben opened the passenger door. ‘Get in.’
‘Not before you tell me what this is about.’
‘Get in the car, Jude.’
Jude looked at Ben, realisation dawning on his face that this was serious. Without another word, he climbed into the passenger seat. The dog clambered all over him and licked his face. Jude cuddled him affectionately, as if he knew something bad was coming and he had to cling to someone for support.
Ben quietly shut the passenger door, walked around to the driver’s side and got in beside Jude.
‘I came here to tell you some news,’ he said.
And told him.
Chapter Twenty-Five
As Ben talked about the crash, the colour left Jude’s face and his jaw hardened. He closed his eyes. Finally he whispered, ‘May I get out of the car, please?’
Ben nodded, waiting to see how the young guy was going to respond. He’d had to break bad news before. It was never nice, but it was always different. Sometimes the reaction was complete shock, physical illness, collapse. Other times it was denial – sometimes furious and aggressive denial. Shooting the messenger brought some kind of relief. Ben could understand that. He’d been through it himself, more than once in his life.
Jude hurled open the Mazda’s passenger door and staggered out. He paced in a circle on the frosty grass. Let out several gasping breaths, his face contorted in pain. Turning back towards the car he yelled hoarsely at Ben, ‘How the fuck do you know this? Tell me! How come you’re telling me this?’
‘Because I was there when it happened,’ Ben said quietly. ‘I’m sorry.’
Jude shook his head wildly. ‘No, no. No. It can’t fucking be.’ He ripped open the zipper of his fleece jacket pocket, took out a phone and started stabbing at it.
Ben knew what number he was calling. ‘There’s nobody at home, Jude.’ He watched as the young man stood there with the phone clamped to his ear, shoulders bent, waiting for an answer, willing with all his might for this to be just some cruel, crazy joke being played on him. After a few moments Jude gave up, then an afterthought hit him and he thumbed more buttons on his phone. His eyes brightened momentarily. ‘No, no. Wait. I’ve got messages.’
‘They’re all from me,’ Ben said.
Jude waved at him to shut up. Listening intently to each message in turn, his face grew steadily more and more pallid, as if hope was a colour that was slowly draining out of him with every passing moment.
The hand clutching the phone fell limp at his side. He leaned against the stone wall. His shoulders sagged. Then he bent over and was violently sick.
Ben got out of the car and walked over to where Jude was doubled up by the wall, gasping and gagging. Ben laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘It’s not possible,’ Jude croaked through his tears. ‘I’m never going to see them again. It’s just not possible.’
‘They’re in a better place now,’ Ben said.
Jude spun around to face him, red-eyed. ‘You believe all that shit about heaven, do you?’
Ben said nothing. He didn’t know whether he believed it or not. He said no more, and let the young man be for a few minutes. Leaning against the side of the Mazda he lit a cigarette, watched the smoke whip away on the cold wind and wondered how the hell he should break the rest of the news. Telling Jude that the crash had been no accident was going to be even tougher than just telling him his parents had died.
‘I’m stranded here,’ Jude said after a while. ‘We came in Robbie’s car. He’s too pissed to drive. Will you take me back?’
‘I came to fetch you,’ Ben said. ‘Get your things.’
‘My things don’t matter,’ Jude said.
‘Yes, they do,’ Ben said. ‘Go and get them.’
‘I have to tell Robbie what’s happened.’
‘Tell him, but be quick.’
Jude slunk back to the farmhouse with his head low, wiping his eyes as he went. Ben felt guilty, as he’d known he would. He’d spend the next month questioning whether he’d broken the news in the right way. Maybe there was no right way. He smoked the rest of his cigarette as he let Scruffy run around the yard. The dog hunted about, cocking his leg over everything in sight.
A few minutes later Jude returned from the farmhouse carrying a rucksack. His eyes were redder than before. Without a word, he stuffed the rucksack in the boot and climbed into the passenger seat. Scruffy bounded in at his feet.
‘I’m ready,’ Jude whispered. ‘Let’s go.’
Ben bumped the Mazda back down the track to the road. Jude was silent for a long time as they drove though the darkness. The mist was settling more thickly than ever across the moors now, and visibility was down to about twenty yards. Ben focused carefully on the winding road as he drove. The heater roared on full blast, filling the car with hot stale air.
Beside him, Jude fidgeted about for a while, then felt for the seat adjustment and started reclining his backrest. ‘I need to sleep,’ he said. ‘Wake me when we get to Oxfordshire.’
‘We’re not going there,’ Ben said, and steeled himself for what was coming.
Jude sat up in his seat. ‘What are you talking about? Where are we going?’
‘I can’t take you back home, Jude.’
‘I don’t understand. You said you’d come to fetch me.’
‘That’s right. But I didn’t say where to.’