‘Help!’ I shout as loud as I can, but there’s a steady hum from the road and a general clatter of a cement mixer from somewhere a street or two away.
Ben grins as he moves, knowing I won’t be heard – or, if I am, it will be too late for someone to do anything about it.
‘I offered you everything,’ he says.
‘No, you took everything,’ I reply, still moving backwards. I’m hoping I’ll somehow be able to slip around him and dash for the front of the house.
‘Ungrateful…’ He’s keeping a distance, giving me no space to dodge around his arms.
‘What are you going to do?’ I say. ‘Kill me here?’
Ben raises the knife slightly, as if to say it sounds like an idea. ‘Who’s going to suspect a dead guy?’ he asks – and I realise that he’s right. There will never be justice for Jade, or me. He’ll go to ground and that will be the end. I keep edging away, but the hedge is close to my back now.
‘Help!’
Ben grins. ‘I want you to know that you did this.’
He takes another step forward and there’s nowhere to go this time. I’m trapped between him and the hedge, with only the knife between us. Time feels frozen and then…
There’s a ruffle from the hedge behind, a scratching, and, from nowhere, Billy bursts from the bush. I open my mouth to say his name, but he’s not the same creature who slept on my feet last night. The kind, loving animal has gone and he’s a snarling, spitting creature of fury. He doesn’t wait for me, instead launching himself teeth first at Ben’s forearm. The knife slips onto the turf as Billy and Ben tumble backwards over one another. I’m frozen to the spot, transfixed with stunned shock as Billy ends up on top, his teeth still sunk into Ben’s forearm.
Ben is screeching and flapping around, completely taken by surprise. It’s when he uses his free hand to punch Billy in the side that something within me snaps. I race across the grass, snatch the knife from the ground and charge to where they’re fighting. Ben continues to thump Billy in the side until I hurl myself onto the grass next to them. There’s a flurry of movement between them and they’re so close that I can feel the heat from Billy’s breath. He’s spitting and snorting in a way I’ve never seen before.
I hold the knife up and Ben’s eyes widen.
‘Stop,’ I say.
His free arm goes limp, but his other is still pushing back against Billy.
‘Let him go, Bill,’ I say calmly.
The snarling dampens immediately and then, a moment later, Ben’s other arm is released. I’m holding the knife a few centimetres from Ben’s throat, not breaking eye contact.
‘Roll over,’ I tell Ben – and he does.
A couple of seconds later, there’s a snaffling from the bushes. I glance up – but only for a moment – to see Karen blusters her way through. She’s out of breath and red in the face. ‘Billy! Bil—’
She stops speaking and I can sense her watching us, even though I’m focused on Ben.
‘Lucy?’
‘Call the police,’ I tell her.
Ben’s wriggling, his head tilted towards me. I hold the knife a little further forward, making sure he can see it. Billy is sitting calmly, panting and waiting for any other order.
‘You’ll never use that,’ Ben says.
‘Touch my dog one more time and let’s see.’
Chapter Forty-Four
Billy strains on his lead as he pulls along the path towards the park. I call him back but he’s eager to get to Parkrun.
‘He basically walks himself,’ Karen says.
‘I thought he’d be slowing down by now,’ I say.
‘I’ve hardly seen you in days, what with the police and all. Didn’t expect to see you this morning.’
‘I fancied getting out. Billy’s been cooped up for too long as well.’
Billy stops and waits at the crossing, knowing exactly where he’s going. We stand with him and wait for the flashing green man.
‘I still can’t believe it,’ Karen says.
‘I don’t think the police can either. It was only when they checked his DNA against his mother’s that they stopped thinking I was a nutter.’
She breathes out loudly: ‘What next?’
‘A new 5K PB, I reckon.’
The green man flashes and the box beeps as we start to cross the road. Billy is back to pulling me along again. He leads us over the crossing and around the next corner.
‘After that,’ Karen says. She knows me too well and sees right through the bluster.
‘I’ve got another job interview on Monday.’
‘You know what I mean.’
‘That is what I mean. Life goes on.’
Karen doesn’t reply instantly. I know it’s a bit of a fudge but, in essence, it’s true.
‘Ben died,’ I add. ‘The Ben I know is still dead. Whoever that was in the garden isn’t the same person. He stole everything I had and he broke my heart. The fact he was hiding for five years doesn’t mean much. I heard from one of the officers that he’d set up a new life with some woman over in Wales. She kicked him out at the start of the year after an argument and I guess that’s when he decided to come back. He’s a serial love addict. It’s all or nothing. He wants to force people to love him. I think he was always like that. He played with me because he enjoyed the chase and thought his money was more important than the life I had.’
It’s grandiose stuff – I know that – but I don’t know what else to say. I was rehearsing it in the mirror this morning. Sometimes it does play out that one person will say something expected, so the reply is already practised.
We carry on walking and Karen is silent for a while longer. Some people assume that if a person has no money, then they must be stupid. Being poor is somehow a choice. Karen isn’t like that – she knows this isn’t the real answer.
‘I think he killed Jade,’ I say.
‘Did you tell the police?’
‘Of course – but things take time. I know he hasn’t confessed to anything. They’re looking into it. I’m sure they’ll get him.’ A beat passes: ‘I hope they get him.’
‘He tried to kill you…’
‘Maybe.’
‘And he punched Billy.’
That gets a little laugh. It’s not that it’s funny, more that a person can commit any amount of heinous crime – but it’s only when an animal is harmed that people really get annoyed. I know it was him bashing Billy that made the red mist descend.
We keep walking, but Billy slows as we take the turn onto the road on which the now infamous house lies. It used to be owned by a Mrs Cheeseman. Everything Ben said was true – she died three years ago and her children have been arguing about what to do with it ever since.
‘How did Ben’s mother take it?’ Karen asks.
‘I don’t know. Probably worse than me. She’s been grieving for him. I saw her at the police station and she was grey. Haunted.’
‘Did she say anything to you?’
‘We sat next to each other for almost half an hour and never spoke. That’s almost an apology for her. I think she always knew the problem was her son and not me. It’s hard to blame someone who was dead, so she put it all on me instead.’
A pause: ‘Are you sure she didn’t know?’
‘It’s possible, but I don’t think she’s a good enough actress to fake it all these years. Ben told the police she didn’t know anything.’
We slow even further until we’re standing outside the house. One of the police officers told me it’s called Tannerman Terrace, which is an oddity considering it stands by itself. Billy stops and sits at my feet as we peer over the gate towards the house beyond. Much of the mystery and spookiness I felt a week ago has gone. It’s just a house. The real evil lies within people, not buildings.