the instant he stepped inside, something told him the place was empty. ‘Rory?’
No reply. No Rory, no housekeeper. He checked the living room. Empty. Strode across the hall and thundered up the stairs and threw open his son’s bedroom door.
‘Dad, I wish you wouldn’t burst in like that.’ That was what Rory would have said to him, turning towards the door with a scowl. But Rory wasn’t there. His chess computer and TV and Blu-ray player and drawing pad and the model spyplane he was building were all exactly where they should be. But no Rory.
Adam was sweating cold now. Back downstairs, he called and called. Nothing. Checked the garden, the pool. Still nothing.
Then the phone rang. He rushed over to it. ‘Professor O’Connor?’ said a voice. A man’s voice, calm and soft. The accent was English, educated.
‘Yes.’
‘Professor Adam O’Connor?’
‘Who is this?’
‘We have your son.’
Adam almost collapsed at the words. His hands were shaking so violently that he needed both of them to keep the phone clasped tightly to his ear.
‘You will follow my instructions to the letter,’ the voice continued. ‘Any attempt to contact the police, any calls or communication with anyone from this moment on, we will know and Rory will die. Any failure or hesitation to do exactly what I tell you, when I tell you to do it, he will die. There will be no second warning. Do you understand?’
Adam managed a tiny ‘Yes’.
‘Good. Now listen to me very carefully.’
In the casualty department waiting room in Valognes, Jeff Dekker got two foam cups of coffee from a machine down the corridor and carried them over to the row of plastic chairs where Brooke was sitting staring into space. He handed her a cup, then slumped down next to her.
He tried to sound upbeat. ‘Don’t look so miserable. I’m sure he’s going to be OK. We’ll know soon. They should have finished the X-ray by now.’ He took a loud slurp of coffee. ‘Jesus, this is revolting.’
Brooke sipped hers expressionlessly, as though the finest Blue Mountain roast or liquid shit would have been all the same to her.
‘He’ll be fine,’ Jeff said again cheerfully. His plastic chair creaked as he leaned back in it, stretching his legs out in front of him.
‘I hope so,’ Brooke murmured, taking another sip of the coffee.
‘Though I have to say, he had it coming.’
She said nothing.
‘And Ben hardly touched him, really.’ Brooke snorted. ‘That’s reassuring.’
‘Don’t be too pissed off with Ben. He was provoked.’ She paused, biting her lip. ‘You know I’m not pissed off with him. I just wish this whole thing hadn’t happened.’
‘You can be sure that Ben feels that way too,’ Jeff said. He shook his head in disbelief. ‘What the hell was eating Shannon anyway? Acting like that—’
‘I think this was all my fault,’ she said miserably.
‘Your fault?’
She nodded. ‘Something I said.’
‘I didn’t hear you say a thing.’
‘Not then. Yesterday, in the car, on the way down.’
‘What did you say?’
She sucked air through her teeth. ‘It was about Ben.’
‘So?’
‘I think I just mentioned his name once too often, that’s all.’
‘You’re saying that Shannon’s jealous. He can tell how you feel about Ben.’
She turned to look at him. There was a flush of red in her cheeks. ‘It’s that obvious?’
‘To me, and everyone else,’ Jeff said. ‘Except Ben, that is.’
‘Everyone except Ben,’ she echoed sadly.
‘And when he got you to act out the role of the principal, that was too much for matey boy. He saw it as some kind of competition.’
She nodded. ‘Fighting over the female. Locking antlers like a couple of rutting stags.’
‘Except one of the stags didn’t even know what was going on.’
‘And it’s all because of me. Damn. I shouldn’t have agreed to it. I’m supposed to be a psychologist, for God’s sake! I’m supposed to know people’s minds.’
‘Why don’t you just tell Ben the way you feel about him?’
She shook her head.
‘We’re all grown ups. What’s the worst that can happen?’
‘That I’d lose his friendship, scare him away,’ she said. ‘I’d rather have him as a friend than not have him at all. You can’t force someone to love you.’
Jeff raised his eyebrows. ‘Whoa. Did you just use the L-word?’
Brooke closed her eyes and sank her head into her hands.
‘You’re actually in
‘For a long time,’ she muttered, not looking up.
‘Shit.’
‘Don’t I know it.’
‘I didn’t think it was that serious. I thought it was just – you know.’
‘It wasn’t always. But after a while I realised I wasn’t just flirting with him.’
Jeff looked confused. ‘So wait a minute. You’re in love with Ben … but you’re going out with Shannon?’
‘Don’t go there, Jeff, all right?’
He shrugged. ‘I think it’s great, though. You and Ben. I can see it. Really.’
‘Apart from the fact that he doesn’t seem to know I even exist.’
‘You’ve got that all wrong. He loves spending time with you. I can always see he’s looking forward to your visits. He really likes you.’
‘But not in
Jeff didn’t reply.
She ran her fingers through her hair. ‘What a situation. Here we are in the hospital because my boyfriend’s been injured and I’m more concerned about the guy who put him there. I shouldn’t even have come with Rupert. I just wanted to see Ben.’ She sighed.
Jeff paused a moment. ‘I think Ben cares for you a lot more than you think. He just doesn’t know it yet, because that’s the kind of guy he is. But one day he’s going to wake up and see it.’
‘You’re not going to say anything, are you?’
‘Would I?’
‘You’d better swear to that, Jeff Dekker. One word and—’
Brooke was interrupted by the sound of footsteps on the vinyl floor of the corridor. She and Jeff turned to see the doctor walking towards them. Brooke stood up, looking at him with a mixture of expectation and worry.
The doctor smiled. ‘No need for alarm,’ he said. ‘There’s no serious damage.’
‘But he must be in a lot of pain, yeah?’ Jeff asked hopefully, smiling back.
The doctor rubbed his chin pensively, glanced down at his clipboard and spent the next minute or so gravely reeling off a long list of medical terminology.
‘Ben did all
