I've Been Watching You: a stunning crime thriller from The North East Police Series (14 page)

It was a long speech, and Ben felt like she had maybe gone too far. But she had worked so hard not to let her past get in the way of her future that she just couldn’t abide it when people thought what they did was a waste. She saw it all the time, the cleaner in the police station, the young lasses whose houses she visited as a CSI. Ben firmly believed you made your own life, and if you weren’t happy with it only you could change it. She had told herself that so many times over the years that it had become her personal mantra.

She took in a deep breath as Jacob replied, ‘You do sound just like TJ. I don’t mean to undermine what I do now, and I know I work with a good team, the best in fact. I enjoy my work and I’m good at it, and you’re right. Maybe I should stop focussing so much on the things I can’t change, and start looking at the things I can. Like the fact I’ll never walk without a stick, but at least I’m walking. Right?’

Ben heard the hesitation in his voice; saw the uncertainty in his eyes. ‘Nobody said it was easy, Jacob.’ Without her even realising, her hand had drifted and settled itself on his upper thigh, providing comfort and reassurance instinctively.

She felt her skin tingle at the heat from his, and she couldn’t help but want to keep her hand there forever. She was caught in his gaze, her own eyes widening like the proverbial deer caught in the headlights. He shifted position, and she panicked.

Tearing her gaze from his she looked down, pulled her hand back from his leg and grasped it with her other one, her fingers moving together as the nerves took over.

‘What just happened?’ he asked softly, a little confused by her reaction.
Did I misread that look? I thought I saw a spark, but now she’s pulled back. I must have been wrong. Shit.
Ben sat wringing her hands together like he had just made the biggest mistake ever.

‘Nothing. Nothing happened. I erm, well I may have given you the wrong impression. I’m not interested in a relationship, or whatever, I was just.... erm, well.....’ her voice trailed off into silence.

‘Relationship? Hell, Ben, all I did was look at you. I wasn’t asking for anything else. I barely know you, for Christ’s sake.’ Even as the words left his mouth, he felt the hurt. The realisation that she accepted his injury as part of him must have made him lose his marbles for a moment. Granted he hadn’t asked for a relationship, but for a second he had wanted nothing more than to kiss her. And it appeared she knew that and didn’t agree.

Ben heard the hurt in his tone, and kicked herself for being the cause. The truth was being so close to him, having such a real conversation had touched her heart. She had seen his eyes flash with want, and she wanted him too. And that scared the shit out of her. Despite her belief that the past doesn’t define you, with her it sometimes did. No matter how hard she tried to get away from it, she was reminded of it every single day. But it didn’t give her the right to hurt the man sitting beside her. She had just sat there and preached at him, and he had taken in what she said just to have her shoot him down.
Smart Ben, really smart. Tell him. Now.

‘I’m sorry. I’m good at preaching about leaving the past in the past but sometimes I don’t listen to my own advice. I didn’t mean to hurt you, Jacob.’

‘You didn’t hurt me. I mean, we barely know each other, Ben. Sure I think you’re attractive, you have the most gorgeous eyes I’ve ever seen, but I wasn’t implying that we should jump into bed together or anything. What you said made sense, that’s all, and for a moment I thought maybe you meant you were interested in me. I was wrong, and that’s OK. I misread you. I’m the one that should be apologising.’

His outburst was heartfelt, honest, and Ben paused for a second, letting his words sink in.
He thinks I’m attractive? Me?

‘You don’t need to apologise, Jacob. This is awkward. Look, you read me right, OK? I do think you’re attractive. But I have ... issues ... and I haven’t yet dealt with them fully. It scares me to think there might be something between us. It’s...’ she paused, considering how much to actually say in a car in the middle of a busy street to this man she barely knew, ‘Look, maybe we could go for a drink or something. Talk properly. I don’t think it’s appropriate to talk here at work.’

Jacob felt his jaw drop.
Did she just ask me out?
He nodded slowly. ‘A drink. To talk. When?’ He felt his stomach turn a somersault. It had been years since he’d had a drink with a woman.

‘Tonight, if you’re free? I put Grace down at 730 p.m. and I’ll need to make sure Aoife is home and settled. And I can’t stay long. Maybe it would just be best if you came to mine instead of us going out? It was a spur of the moment offer, I didn’t really think about the other stuff.’

‘Your place at 830 p.m. then?’

Ben heard her heart pounding in her ears again.
What the hell am I doing?
She hadn’t invited a boy back to Aoife’s in forever, and granted Jacob was way more than a boy, but still. Even as she flashed a quick smile at Jacob and nodded, she groaned inside. Aoife was going to have her life over this one. She’d never live it down.

Jacob pressed down on the accelerator and pulled the car off from the kerb. He fought to stop the boyish grin spreading across his face.

I’m going for a drink with a woman; TJ will never let me live this one down.

8th June, 1535 hours - Sunderland University Campus

He stood in the shadows beside the library and waited, knowing Clarice was due to finish her lesson at 3 p.m. and had agreed to meet him for a coffee and to go over the notes from the lectures he had 'missed'. He was excited. It felt good to get so close, so personal. It would make it even more fun when he finally had her in his grasp tomorrow.

It would be perfect.

His mind wandered back to the one that got away, Bree. Frowning he acknowledged it was a little harder than he had thought it would be to locate her. She definitely was no longer on the voters roll for County Durham. He’d decided earlier he would look into her location after he had finished with the delectable Clarice.

As she approached, tentatively smiling at him, he had to fight the urge to take her there and then. She was too trusting, too gullible. He would enjoy teaching her to be careful who she trusted. Not that it mattered really, she trusted him.

And that would prove to be her biggest mistake yet.

It had taken him many years to get comfortable in his routine. Even if he searched endlessly for that one feeling he was looking for, even if no one had competed yet, he had managed to establish his own way of doing things, a natural order with which to progress. It started with them getting comfortable enough to let their guard down, and then he taught them how much of a mistake this was. His father had taught him that lesson, and he felt duty-bound to teach others. And teach he would, another day, not today.

Plastering the fake smile on his face, he waved in acknowledgement and made his way to meet her. The scar always caused questions of course. How had he gotten it? And Clarice was no different.

As soon as they were seated in the secluded booth in the pub across the road, she had asked. Expecting it made it easier to rein his temper in, keep it under control.
She has no right to ask.

But he held back, giving her the answer she was waiting for. ‘I fell off my bike when I was eight. The scar's been there ever since.’

A complete lie.

The scar had been caused by his father. He’d taken affront to something he had said. He'd been around fourteen at the time. His father had grabbed the first thing to hand, the damn whiskey bottle, and thrown it so hard it had split his lip and cheek on impact. He remembered staring at his father, believing in that moment that he was going to die, that his own father would kill him. But as it had happened, his dad had calmed down, throwing him a rag and telling him to wipe up the blood. There were no stitches though, no offer of medical assistance. So the wound had healed slowly, crusting to a jagged scab and eventually a scar.

There was no need for other people to know that though. They had no right to know. He was the only person left alive who knew what had happened that day. He re-focussed on the conversation as she replied.

‘Aw nightmare. I fell off mine too when I was a kid. Scarred my knee. Was it just Business Enterprise that you needed the notes for? That's all I've brought with me today, but if you need the rest I can scan them and email you a copy later tonight if you like.’

Her voice was smooth, the hint of a local accent coming through. He liked doing this. Interacting together. He was good at it too. There had been a time when despite his eagerness to keep the company of women, he’d found them hard to talk to. He used to stammer and almost felt his cheeks warm at the memory, but after years of practise, he was now adept at pretending to listen, and the women were so naive that they firmly believed he gave a rat’s ass.

Which naturally he didn't.

Ordering another coffee, he let the charade continue.

8th June, 2020 hours - O’Byrne residence, Sunderland

Aoife hadn't stopped smiling since Ben had told her that Jacob was coming over. She was settled on the sofa, blanket on her lap and everything within easy reach, but she had purposefully left her glasses in the kitchen. It wouldn't hurt to stick her head in a bit later and see how they were doing, and the glasses gave her the perfect excuse. Ben had asked him back to the house! Miracles would never cease.

She’d done her best to extract more information, but Ben had her mouth firmly closed. It had to mean something though. Something had happened today that Ben felt needed further exploration. Something she wasn't ready to tell her aunt.

Cocking her head to one side, Aoife heard Ben pottering around upstairs. Grinning again, she realised she was trying to find something to wear. A small part of her was worried. She didn't know this man; maybe he wouldn't be right for Ben. Or just maybe he would.

Hearing a small knock at the front door, Aoife couldn't resist getting up to answer it.

Her gaze travelled up from his feet, past his stick and finally settled on his smile.

‘You must be Aoife?’ His voice gave away his nerves, and she nodded and smiled, granting him access.

‘And you're Jacob. Pleased to meet you. Come on through to the kitchen. I'll let Ben know you're here.’

Jacob followed her down the hallway and into the kitchen. He smiled at the pictures attached to the fridge with an array of bright magnets.

‘Grace’s I presume?’ he asked, his polite tone making him wonder what on earth he was doing here. He almost felt like he had been summoned to the head teacher’s office. Aoife was grinning at him, knowing she had somehow managed to make him uncomfortable. She flicked the on switch of the kettle and used her right arm to set out some cups.

Deciding to give him even more of the heebie jeebies, she asked, ‘So what are your intentions with my niece?’

The look of horror on his face was too much and she broke down in a fit of giggles. ‘I'm only messing with you, Jacob. Don't look so nervous. Ben is quite capable of making her own choices. It's been a long time since she brought someone home though.’

Aoife's words hung heavy in the air - she might have been joking but he sensed a slight undertone, something hiding behind her words that he didn't quite understand yet.

He was still thinking about how to respond, when Ben pushed open the kitchen door, her face hidden behind a pile of washing. ‘Put the kettle down and step away from the counter, Aoife. I said I'd make you some tea in a second.’

She lugged the pile past Jacob without noticing him, and plonked the clothing in a pile in the laundry room at the back of the kitchen.

‘I'm quite capable of making my own tea,’ responded Aoife, then added cheekily, ‘Besides, I wasn't making it for
me
. I was making it for Jacob.’

‘Well, Jacob’s not here yet so go and sit yourself back down, I'll bring the tea in ....’ Ben’s voice trailed off as she turned around and came face to face with Jacob, who was sitting at the table grinning from ear to ear at the exchange.

‘Aoife O’Byrne, you are incorrigible. Out. Now,’ she added guiding her aunt back to the living room.

‘You didn't tell me he was so good-looking,’ whispered her aunt, letting Ben arrange the blanket on her lap.

As she turned to leave the room, Aoife added, ‘Ben. You're OK, right? You're ready for this? It's been a long time and I know how hard it's been for you. If it's not right, or he says something to upset you, you just call me, OK? Even without the use of my arm, I'll knock his block off if he hurts you.’

Ben’s expression softened at her aunts words. Turning back, she knelt before the only person who knew her secrets, the only person she truly trusted.

‘I honestly don't know, Aoife. But it's been eight years. Surely I must be ready to at least be friends with a man. I have to at least give it a chance, right?’

‘Course you do, girl, I just don't want to see you get hurt again. When you told me about the night you conceived Grace, I wanted to find that man and punch him on the nose. Getting you drunk and taking advantage like that. He's lucky I didn't find him. I just don't want something like that to happen again.’

‘I know, Aoife, neither do I. And it won't. What're your first impressions? Do you think Jacob would do something like that?’

Without hesitating, Aoife shook her head. ‘That boy was so nervous
I
almost started stuttering. He seems nice. But take it slow, sweetheart, OK? There's no rush for these things. If it's meant to be then it will be. Que sera sera and all that.’

‘I promise. Now, I'm going to go and talk to the guy in the kitchen, if he hasn't turned tail and ran already.’

Ben gave her aunt a quick cuddle, before getting back to her feet and heading into the kitchen.