Both Colin’s sons were older than Jacob. On the few occasions when they ‘played’ together it was obvious they were under instructions from Maggie to be nice. It usually ended with Jacob sitting by himself while the two brothers did whatever they wanted.
“Let’s go in the kitchen,” Ben said, as Colin started towards the lounge. Colin looked surprised but made no comment.
“I’ll just say hello to Jacob first.” He always made an effort to treat Jacob normally, and if he tried a little too hard it was still better than Maggie’s forced good humour.
Stop being so hard on them. It isn’t their fault.
“Hi, Jake,” Colin said, striding over to the table. Jacob didn’t look up from his jigsaw, but Ben could see him stiffen and knew what was coming next.
“Hang on,” he began, but Colin had already bent down in front of the boy. Jacob tucked his head on to his chest and thrust his arms out at him in a pushing-away gesture. “No! No no!”
Startled, Colin slowly backed away. “Okay, Jacob, sorry.” He raised his eyebrows at Ben.
“He’s been a bit edgy the past few days,” Ben told him.
Jacob sat rigidly, head down, arms still held out. “It’s all right, it’s only Uncle Colin. You know him, don’t be silly.” The arms remained raised, warding off. “Come on, stop it, Jacob!” he snapped.
“Easy, Ben,” Colin said, shocked.
Ben took a hold on himself. He tried to say something to reassure Jacob, but it was like digging in a dry well. He just stood there, unable to think of a single thing to do.
Colin was looking from one of them to the other, worried.
He came forward again, reaching into his pocket for a tube of Smarties. “I’ve brought you some sweets, Jacob,” he said, giving it a little shake as he set it down on the table. Jacob’s eyes flickered to it. After a moment he tentatively brought his arms down and picked it up.
Ben felt some of the tension leave him as Jacob visibly relaxed. The boy turned the tube around in his hand, apparently soothed by the motion and the sliding rattle of the sweets.
“Are you going to say thank you?” Ben asked.
“It doesn’t matter,” Colin said quickly, taking Ben’s arm and leading him away. They went into the kitchen. Ben blocked open the door so he could see into the other room.
Colin still looked upset. “What was all that about?”
“I told you, he’s a bit touchy lately.”
“I didn’t mean Jacob.”
Ben went to the fridge. “Beer?”
“If you’re having one.”
He handed Colin a can and a glass. He opened his own and drank straight from it.
“So are you going to tell me?” Colin asked.
Ben went to a kitchen drawer and took out the newspaper cuttings. He tossed them on the kitchen table. “You don’t have to read them all. The first one’ll do.”
Colin quickly scanned it, then looked up, puzzled. “Sorry, I don’t understand.”
“It’s Jacob.” The words actually hurt, a real physical pain in his throat.
Colin was frowning. “I’m not with you.”
“The baby that was stolen. It was Jacob. Sarah did it.”
Colin stared at him, then looked at the cutting again. Ben could see him struggling not to show his disbelief. “Ben—”
“I’m not fucking fantasising. I’m serious.”
He told Colin what had happened, from finding the cuttings to visiting Jessica. Telling it to someone else didn’t help as much as he’d hoped. It just seemed to make it more real. When he had finished Colin glanced through the open doorway towards where Jacob was playing in the lounge.
“Christ.”
Ben gave a crooked smile. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”
He was shivering, although the house was warm. He drained the beer can and sat down.
“Have you told anyone else about this?” Colin asked.
“You’re the first”
“So no one else knows? You haven’t mentioned it to your dad?”
Ben’s mother had died while he was at university. His father had remarried, a woman ten years his junior who made it clear she regarded Ben as competition for her husband’s affections. Her presence came between them whether she was actually there or not, an intangible barrier that became harder to overcome as time went by. She hadn’t gone to Sarah’s funeral, and even through the numbing grief of the day he had heard his father’s apologetic excuses and felt sorry for him. That had been the first time in a year they had seen each other, and the first time in six months they had spoken. His father was no longer someone in whom Ben confided.
“What about Sarah’s parents?” Colin asked. “Do they know?”
“I told you, I haven’t told anybody.”
“I didn’t mean that. I meant do you think they’ve known all along? Could Sarah have told them?”
“I doubt it. I don’t think it was something she even acknowledged to herself. Not consciously. And if her parents ever suspected anything, I’m pretty sure I’d have picked something up from them before now.”
Colin pulled absently at his lower lip. Ben could see him beginning to sift and arrange the information, applying himself to it like any legal problem. “Have you thought about what you’re going to do?”
“I haven’t thought about anything else. But I still don’t have a fucking clue.”
Colin’s hand unconsciously went to straighten his tie, entirely the solicitor now. Ben had always envied the way he could calmly tackle problems. “I don’t think you need to decide anything straightaway. At this stage the main thing is not to go off half-cocked. You need to make sure that whatever you do is best for everyone concerned. For a start, have you considered that Jessica might be lying?”
“She wasn’t.”
“I’m not saying she was, only that it’s a possibility you shouldn’t overlook. I mean, what have you actually got? Some old clippings, and the story of someone who, let’s face it, isn’t exactly out to do you any favours. Can you be one hundred per cent sure that she’s not making this up just to cause trouble?”
There was nothing Ben would have liked to believe more. But, tempting as it was, he couldn’t bring himself to accept it. “She wouldn’t do that. Not when it means incriminating Sarah.”
“Are you sure? She might not expect you to tell anybody. And you said yourself that Sarah had more or less lost touch with her. You might have handed her a way of getting back at you both.”
“I know what you’re saying, but I can’t—”
Colin held up his hand. “Just think for a second. What actual confirmation have you got that what she said is true?”
“None, but—”
“That’s right, none. Have you checked to see what else might have been in the papers about the story afterwards?” Uncertain now, Ben shook his head.
“So for all you know, little Steven Kale could have turned up safe and well a week or two later. And Sarah might have just put the cuttings into a box and forgotten all about them. The point is, you don’t know. If you go to the police or social services now you could be letting yourself in for a whole lot of trouble for no good reason. And Jacob as well, don’t forget. All because of some vague suspicions and a story you were told by someone who hates your guts.”
Ben rubbed his eyes. He didn’t feel any more hopeful, but he knew what Colin said made sense. “I suppose you’re right”
“Okay, then. So what we’ve got to do now is find out if the Kales’ baby ever turned up again. And also if its parents are still alive themselves.” The look he gave Ben was cautious. “If they aren’t, you might want to think again about what you’re going to do. Regardless of whether their baby was found or not.”
He knew what Colin was hinting at. He didn’t know how he felt about it, though. “How do I go about finding out?”