He made Ingrid one of the tiny cups of espresso she always drank and carried it out to her. ‘Who was that you were talking to?’
‘Hmm?’ She flipped her ice-blonde hair back from her forehead and tapped a few words into the document on the screen. ‘Oh, it was Birgitte.’
‘Was it? Just before you hung up, you asked which hotel the two of you were booked into.’
She gave him a mocking look. ‘Benedict! Were you eavesdropping on my private call?’
‘The windows were open. It was hardly private. And you weren’t on the phone to Birgitte.’
‘You caught me out. Gold star for M’sieur Poirot.’ Her blue eyes regarded him with amusement. ‘And I think you can probably guess who I was speaking to.’
The sensation inside Benny’s chest was akin to a distant door closing. Not being slammed shut, but being closed carefully and firmly. Overhead, birds sang, and as he stood and looked down at her, he heard a dog barking, a car beeping its horn over on the high street, small children shouting happily as they made their way to school.
‘Sven.’
‘Correct.’ Ingrid took a delicate sip of espresso. ‘Two gold stars.’
‘You told me it was over.’
‘And when I said that, it was true. Oh come on, you aren’t stupid. You know, you’ve always known.’
Had he? He’d suspected it, certainly. Had on occasion chosen not to ask a question he might otherwise have asked. Because he didn’t want to be branded as jealous, suspicious and too boring for words. Suburban, that was what Ingrid had accused him of being when the on-off affair had first come to light. Bourgeois was another word.
I’ve been such an idiot. Benny imagined a different kind of life, an easy, happy one without distance, deception and a partner who didn’t care much about anyone else at all, so long as she was able to carry on doing whatever she wanted to do.
Sometimes being suburban and old-fashioned seemed like a good way to live.
‘You have fun in Copenhagen with Sven.’ He paused. ‘When you get back, you can move in with him.’
Ingrid heaved a sigh of annoyance. ‘I would, like a shot, if only he’d leave his hideous whining wife.’
The best thing about afternoon naps was the dreams, Red had discovered. These days he almost always woke up remembering them. And they often featured Mel, which was a bonus.
He opened his eyes now, his beloved wife still fresh and vivid in his mind. In his dreams they were both young and healthy – another bonus – and the connection between them was as strong as it had ever been. Was she appearing more frequently these days because he was thinking more often about her? Or could it be that she was paying him these subliminal visits to let him know that she was waiting for him and would be there when the time came for him to join her?
The phone at his side buzzed to remind him that Shay would be here any minute now, and that he’d be bringing someone with him. Right, better get downstairs. Rosa had gone over to see Layla, so he needed to unlock the front door.
The knock came just a few minutes later. And there on the doorstep, with Shay standing behind her, was the new girlfriend, the one off the telly.
‘Hi, I’m Caz! I’ve been dying to meet you!’ She gave him a hug then let out a yelp of dismay. ‘Oh God, I can’t believe I said that. I’m such a klutz. Sorry, it’s just that I’m in love with your son and my brain’s gone doolally. I can’t think straight any more. Oh, but look at you. I know you’ve been through the mill, but there’s still a twinkle in your eye. Shay’s told me so much about you! My uncle Eddie was always in and out of prison too – he was a naughty boy just like you. I can’t wait to hear all your stories!’
By the time they left an hour later, Red was exhausted. Caz could talk, he’d give her that. And she was clearly besotted with Shay.
He poured himself a small glass of Valpolicella and switched on the TV for company, allowing the day’s news to wash over him. One good thing about dying was not having to worry about world events that might take place years from now.
The bad thing about dying was knowing you’d never find out what happened to family and friends after you’d gone. He wouldn’t live to see Shay settle down and hopefully have a family of his own. He’d had the idea in his head that he could give fate a nudge in the right direction, but it wasn’t showing any sign of working out the way he’d planned. It had been a long shot, admittedly. In his mind’s eye, he’d even conjured up the end result and imagined himself telling the two of them that this had been his master plan right from the start.
So much for wishful thinking.
Caz seemed like a nice girl, at least. A bit noisy and over the top, but with a good heart. And who knew, she might end up being the one for Shay. Maybe they’d have beautiful blonde-haired children and be as happy together as he and Mel had been.
Red tilted his head back and closed his eyes, picturing a future that was yet to happen. If Shay stayed on in Elliscombe and had kids, and Didi and that fellow of hers did the same, maybe their children would all attend the same school. And just occasionally, every now and again, Shay might cast a glance in Didi’s direction, and she might do the same . . . and the two of them might wonder if things should have turned out differently.
Maybe, twenty-odd years down the line, when their children were grown and their marriages had crumbled, they might finally figure out where they’d gone wrong and do something about it.
Better late than never, eh?
Red exhaled. Except he wouldn’t fucking well be here to see it and tell them he’d been right all along.
Chapter 32
A week later, Rosa bumped into Benny Colette as she was leaving the Co-op with three bags of shopping.
‘Hi!’ He beamed at her. ‘How have you been? Haven’t seen you in the garden recently. Not that I’ve been looking . . . God, sorry, that makes me sound like a right nosy parker. I wasn’t trying to spy on you, I promise.’
‘Don’t apologise.’ Rosa laughed at his mortified expression. ‘I haven’t been over for a while.’ She hesitated, wondering whether to tell him about her humiliating encounter with Ingrid. Maybe not. ‘Everything OK with you?’
‘Everything’s great. Well, Ingrid’s moving out, but that’s fine too.’
‘What? When did this happen? What went wrong?’
He shrugged. ‘Who says it went wrong? Maybe it’s all gone right.’ He paused. ‘Look, d’you fancy a coffee? Would you have time?’
‘Plenty of time.’ Red was over at Hillcrest with Shay and Caz. ‘We could try the new café on the square.’
‘OK, though I’d prefer my place.’ He was already backing out of the shop.
‘Didn’t you come in to buy something? May as well pick it up while you’re here.’
But Benny shook his head. Wryly he said, ‘I only followed you inside so I could accidentally bump into you.’
Rosa hid a smile; from the way he’d acted, she’d kind of guessed as much.
Back at Compton House, by mutual agreement they didn’t attempt to do battle with the complicated coffee machine. When they were seated at the kitchen island with their mugs of Gold Blend, Benny said, ‘Does it feel weird, being back here?’