Jackdaw (The World of A Charm of Magpies)

“Did Day see you do that?” Ben asked, without much hope.

“Both of them. Day and Crane. And, uh, I tore it a bit enthusiastically. It was all rather tense. If you must know, I ripped it in half, but it was fine, Crane didn’t die. There’s no point putting your face in your hands like that. There was a pitched battle going on and people being killed left, right and centre, and Saint had kicked me in the head which really hurt, so I’d have liked to see you handle it better. Oh, be reasonable.”

“Do you think Day’s going to be reasonable about it?” Ben enquired through his fingers.

“It’s not Day I’m frightened of. Crane’s a sod, and his pet murderer would cut my throat without blinking and he…this isn’t very good, Ben…he’s going to marry Saint.”

“Saint,” Ben repeated. “Miss Saint, who I knocked off a roof.”

“I’m sure she’s fine.”

“So, we’re now on the run from the justiciary, the Metropolitan Police, a rich and ruthless man that you tried to kill, and the extremely dangerous fiancé of the woman that I tried to kill. Is that right?”

“‘Tried to kill’ is overstating it,” Jonah objected. “It’s more ‘might have accidentally killed, but didn’t’.”

Ben let his head drop back against the seat. “God almighty. Day was right. You’re a catastrophe.”

“You don’t have to stay.” Jonah hunched up, face darkening. “You can have the money I stole and get off at the next stop. They want me, not you.”

“They want both of us. Trust me, Jonah. I’ve upset Day and the Met as much—well, not as much as you but quite enough.”

The train rattled on.

“I’ve made a mess of this, haven’t I?” Jonah sounded defeated. “I kept thinking I could keep going and find a way out. I couldn’t let Newhouse kill you, and I couldn’t let you go back to prison. But every time I’ve just got you in more trouble. God, Ben, maybe you should go. I’m not doing you any good.”

“I looked for you when I came out,” Ben said. “When they let me out of prison, part of me thought you’d be there. Waiting.”

“I didn’t even know you were inside.” Jonah gave him a miserable smile. “How could I have? I can’t read, I can’t write, and even if I hadn’t been slaved to Lady Bruton, I couldn’t have shown my face in Hertfordshire to look for you. Eventually, when it was all over, I found someone I trusted to ask some questions for me, and that was when I learned that you’d been gaoled. I came back to London because…well, because I thought you might want to find me.”

“I did. I wanted to wring your neck.”

“I know. I don’t blame you. If you still do, I’ll understand. I don’t mean I’ll let you,” Jonah added quickly. “Just that I’ll understand if you want to.”

Ben sighed. “No. No, I don’t. Day showed me the picture.” Jonah looked up, startled. Ben shrugged. “I wanted to hear your side. But he told me you’d been trying to save me. They do know that.”

Jonah cocked his head, the familiar birdlike motion. “Do you think that means they might be a little more sympathetic?”

“No.”

“I suppose not. Is that why you warned me in the park, because you knew about the picture?”

“Yes. Maybe.” Was it? “I…I don’t know. I told them where you were, after they told me all that. I helped them set that trap.”

“You mean, Day fluenced you?”

“No. I wanted them to catch you.”

“Oh.” Jonah hunched his shoulders. “Well. Why did you—”

“I don’t know.”

They stared helplessly at each other, across the compartment, across the chasm between them.

“What are we going to do, Jonah?” The question came out without planning, propelled by Ben’s confusion and unhappiness. “What now?”

“I don’t know.” Jonah gave him a hopeful flicker of a smile. “Could we, well, is there a way for us to start again, do you think? Not now, I don’t mean that, but when you’re ready—”

“We can’t start again.” Ben said that too loudly and gave a hasty glance at the closed compartment door, knowing this could not be overheard. “We never started in the first place, because you were lying to me the whole time.” He felt a stab of irrational guilt at the slight sag in Jonah’s shoulders, and spoke a little more gently. “You’re not the man I thought you were. And even if you were, I’m not the man I used to be.”

Jonah huddled on the seat opposite. “Does it not…does it not count at all that I was doing those things with Lady Bruton for you? Doesn’t that matter?”

“It matters.” It mattered so much. One of the iron clamps round Ben’s heart had loosened ever since he’d seen that pencil sketch of his own face, a dreadful thorny knot untangling at last. “I understand why you left me. I—God, Jonah. I hated you so much, for so long, and now I know you were thinking of me, you cared—” He stopped, voice suspended, hand over his eyes.