‘Just wait a minute, I gotta get something for my mum,’ he replied.
Ben ignored the traffic warden working his way towards his car and entered the shop. He had more pressing matters on his mind.
It was clear he was not a seasoned criminal, as Ben hadn’t noticed that tailing him was Kite, with Summers in the passenger seat. They had now pulled up a few cars in front of Ben’s and were watching his vehicle in their respective mirrors.
What are you up to, Mr Green? Thought Summers.
The traffic warden had written out a ticket for Ben’s car, and got some abuse from Natalie as he stuck it under the windscreen wiper. Kite stifled a giggle as he sipped from a can of soda, not his favourite drink, but coffee without a thermo flask wouldn’t have lasted long at all.
Ben exited the shop carrying a plastic bag, which he placed behind his seat before taking the parking ticket and throwing it into the car, whilst smiling to the warden, who was clearly not used to the friendly reaction when going about his days’ work.
Ben climbed into the car and pulled away.
Kite waited as a few cars drove by before pulling back out onto the road. Summers felt nervous, thinking Kite may have left it too late and risked losing their man, but they hadn’t, Kite knew what he was doing, and although Summers didn’t always agree with Kite’s use of ‘charm’ and ‘schmoozing’ when trying to improve his chances of promotion, she was thankful that he was there beside her. He really was a good detective, and a great officer, experienced and able.
Surprising to the pursuing officers, Ben and his girlfriend were now heading back in the direction they came.
‘You think he’s forgotten something?’ asked Kite.
Summers didn’t say a word, but noted that they had returned to the crime hot-spot.
‘Maybe we’ve just followed Mr Green to do the shopping,’ he continued, ‘perhaps he’s about to do some DIY.’
Summers tapped her fingers nervously on the dashboard.
‘Maybe, but why take the girlfriend to the shop, leave her in the car and go home again?’ she asked.
Good question. And almost as if to answer it for her, Ben took a right turn at a T-junction, not the left which would have taken him home.
‘Interesting,’ said Kite, sarcastically. ‘Things are hotting up.’
It isn’t unusual for officers, or any professionals in a situation such as this, which is unpredictable, perhaps dangerous, perhaps nothing to worry about at all, to pass the time with a touch of humour. These two had seen some dark images over their careers, and the odd joke or touch of sarcasm was acceptable, even welcome, to lighten the mood.
They followed their target for another two miles, until Ben pulled his car up outside a semi-detached house. After watching Ben struggle with the front gate, he led the way towards the front door, carrying the plastic bag he had just acquired from the hardware store. He wiped some sweat from his forehead then made his way inside.
Natalie reluctantly followed him into the house and closed the door behind her.
Summers was straight onto the radio back to headquarters, wanting to know who owned the house. Within moments, the radio operator came back with the answer, it was owned by Ben’s late father. This wasn’t exciting news. Kite slumped back in his seat and gave a sigh.
Summers knew that sitting here probably wasn’t going to be their ‘finest hour’ in the force, but also knew that if she was going to find out anything of Ben Green, patience would more than likely be a virtue.
45
Ben and Natalie entered the kitchen and saw Mrs Green sat at the back door, sipping wine and staring out into the garden. At this point, Ben knew that his mother had lost her marbles, or at least most of them, and decided it wasn’t worth questioning what she was up to.
Natalie, on the other hand, hadn’t seen Mrs Green since the funeral, around two months ago, when she had noted that Mrs Green didn’t shed a tear for her husband, but seemed more agitated at the inconvenience of having to attend a burial when the weather was a little too chilly for comfort.
She was surprised at how far Mrs Green seemed to have fallen, what with the heavy make-up, bizarre obsession with the colour red but more than that, the lazy look in her eyes and face. Mrs Green was drunk, this was clear, but it could be that she also wasn’t sleeping and eating. In Natalie’s opinion, she was fit for the scrap heap in her current state, and this pleased her.
Ben edged his way into the centre of the room and pulled out a chair for Natalie to sit at the head of the table, she did so. He put his plastic bag from the hardware store down on the ground, leaning it up against a table leg.
‘Hey mum, how are you doing?’ he asked as he leant down, as if to kiss her on the cheek, but just taking the chance to give a long, cold look, deep into her eyes.
Slowly, like some kind of living-dead zombie from an old horror movie, Mrs Green turned her head to face her son, and then glanced at one of the people she despised the most, sat at the head of her kitchen table.
‘Hello Natasha,’ she called out, knowing that this would annoy her son, but more importantly, remind Natalie how much hate there was between them. Natalie had taken away her darling son. It would take a miracle for her to forgive and forget that.
‘Her name is Natalie, mum,’ said Ben, keeping his cool.
Mrs Green turned her attention back to the garden. There was no cat visiting as of yet.
‘You should pull up a seat, Benjamin, you’re going to miss the show,’ said Mrs Green.
Ben was clueless to what his mother was talking about, but had bigger things on his mind. It was time to set things straight, time for answers, for things to be out in the open, time for things to be put right.
One, two, three, he counted to himself in his head.
‘I think you’ll find the show won’t be in the garden, mum.’ he said.
Ben grabbed his mother’s chair and dragged her, still seated, to the table, dropping her into place with no airs or graces, to face Natalie. Then he sat between the two women in his life.
Mrs Green placed her empty glass on the table. Natalie sat shocked, that was the first time she had seen Ben do anything that could be perceived as violent or aggressive, and to his own mother?
‘Now that I’ve got your attention…’ he said, feeling emotion build up in his throat, ‘I think we all need to have a chat.’
Natalie wasn’t a timid girl, as we all know, but the ferocious eyes of Mrs Green digging deep down into Natalie’s soul were making her feel a little uncomfortable. With any normal person, to be intimidated by someone, someone who was not only drunk but clearly on her way to madness, if she wasn’t already there, a normal reaction would be to leave, or at least look away, try to ignore the aggressor, ask for help, something, anything, other than what Natalie was about to do, something that would clearly upset the situation further.
‘We’re getting married,’ said Natalie, looking directly into the eyes of Mrs Green, and then broke into a smile as she saw her future mother-in-laws eyes widen, the shock and the anger about ready to explode into rage.
Natalie leant across and took Ben’s hand, not for support, not to show love, but to show that she was in control. There would be no intimidation, no fear, and no more bullshit from the old hag who had tried for so long to cause Natalie misery.
‘What?’ asked Mrs Green, as she turned her attention to her son.
Ben looked at his mother, and then glanced at Natalie, before answering.
‘You know, mum, I know you two have never really got along,’ he said, ‘but you’ve both got more in common than you think.’
That statement upset both women in equal measure.
‘And there’s more,’ he continued, ‘which I’m going to leave Natalie to tell you. It’ll give you lovely ladies a chance to bond over something.’
