At this, Ben made a strange sound and threw his hands in the air.
‘You too, Ben,’ Meredith said defiantly. ‘Perhaps now you know what Ted did, you might understand …’ Then she turned to Grace. ‘All I ask is that you don’t call the police until the morning. I would like the time to speak to my daughters tonight; to explain. I would appreciate it if you could grant me that much. Because I brought your child back, Grace. I didn’t know anything about Adam’s birth or his death until things were set in stone – there was nothing I could have done to change either. And I told Ben straight away where he could find Jenny and Millie tonight. I didn’t deliberately set out to cause you any harm. So I’m asking you to allow me a little bit of time.’
As Grace sat in stunned silence, Ben said, ‘This is unbelievable.’
‘I know you’re angry with me, Ben,’ Meredith said. ‘But life is not always simple – surely you know that by now.’
Ben looked stony-faced at this, but said nothing.
Grace glared at her. ‘I’ll give you until dawn. And then it’s over, Meredith.’ She tried to look into the depths of Meredith’s fixed stare, to see if there was more to uncover, but her eyes were black marbles. Grace had been sure she’d spotted cracks forming, but they had closed over now, and she was banished from whatever else lay beneath.
Meredith turned swiftly and headed towards the hallway. In the doorway, she paused, listening. ‘Your clock appears to have stopped, Grace.’
And then she was gone.
Ben let them into his house, with Bess running ahead of them.
‘You can both sleep in my room if you like. Will she be okay in the double bed?’ He nodded at Millie, who was semi-slumbering on Grace’s shoulder, occasionally shifting her head from side to side.
‘Thank you,’ Grace replied, weariness overtaking her. It was only early evening, but it felt like the dead of night – it had been dark for hours, and so much had happened.
Ben showed her up to his room and flicked on a bedside light. He paused at the door. ‘Can I get you anything?’
Grace just wanted to sleep. ‘We’ll be fine. Thank you.’
He left them alone. Grace put Millie on the double bed, rearranged pillows so she wouldn’t fall out, and lay down next to her fully clothed. And then, although it was painful beyond measure, she let herself remember Adam. Tears streamed down her face and soaked the pillow.
After a while she was exhausted, but sleep wouldn’t come. She did nothing but toss and turn, until finally, defeated, she headed downstairs for some water.
It was after midnight, and she was surprised to hear music coming from the lounge. The door was wide open, light shining beyond it, and she peered inside.
Ben was lounging on the sofa, staring into the distance with a glass of golden liquid in his hand. At his feet, Bess gave a gentle woof but then put her head back onto her paws. Ben glanced up. ‘Can’t sleep?’
Grace barely heard him, for she was taking in the contents of the room. In addition to the furniture, there were half a dozen large canvasses stacked against one wall, and an easel stood by the front window. A photograph was clipped to the top of it, and on a canvas beneath, the face had been replicated in charcoal outline.
Without a word, she moved closer. It was a little girl, not much older than Millie, with blonde ringlets and blue eyes that shone with merriment.
‘Who is this?’
‘My daughter.’ Ben sat forward, his incisive eyes searching Grace’s for her reaction.
‘Oh!’ Grace couldn’t hide her astonishment.
‘She’s two, and she lives in Australia with her mum.’ Ben’s voice was tender, his eyes fixed on the easel. ‘Catherine and I were married for five years – happily, I thought – but when Sophie was six months old, she left me for someone else.’ He caught Grace’s eye before his gaze fell towards the floor. ‘I still find it very difficult to talk about. I was completely taken by surprise, and it blew my world apart – made me question everything I thought I knew. I hadn’t even known that Cath was unhappy …’
Grace went across and sat next to him. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘I’m not very good at sympathy,’ he said, swirling his drink and watching it spin. ‘When my walls start to crumble, I’m so damn frightened of what’s behind them that I fix them straight back up again. Basically, I’m a mess …’
Grace’s laugh was ironic. ‘Well, I understand that feeling.’ She gestured around them. ‘But you certainly have a hidden talent.’ She indicated the canvases, most portraying the moors at varying times of day.