The Nemesis Program. Scott Mariani
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you don’t mean … you don’t mean the wedding too?’ she said in a low, trembling voice. ‘Call off the wedding?’
‘I’m sorry,’ Ben said. ‘I have to leave. I can’t say when I’ll be back.’
‘What are you on about?’ Jude burst out. ‘Are you taking the piss?’
‘Back from where?’ Brooke asked. She sounded stunned, breathless.
‘I don’t know yet, not exactly,’ he said. ‘I just know I can’t stay here.’
‘But why?’ she pleaded.
Jude had stepped closer to stand at Brooke’s elbow, staring at Ben in dismay with his arms folded.
‘Jude, would you excuse us for a moment?’ Ben said.
‘Excuse you?’ Jude answered.
‘I’d like to be alone with her,’ Ben said. ‘So get out.’
Brooke held up a hand. ‘No. I want Jude to hear this too.’
‘Fuck, yeah,’ Jude said. ‘I’m staying right here. This is my house, remember.’
‘Fine,’ Ben said, trying to stay calm. ‘Let’s all talk.’
‘What’s this about, Ben?’ Brooke asked coldly.
‘I don’t even know what it’s about,’ Ben said. ‘All I know is that something’s cropped up and I have to leave right away. There’s no choice.’
Brooke had her hands on her hips and her face was flushed. ‘No choice!’ she yelled. ‘Ben! Have you gone mad? You made a choice! You chose to marry me – now you’re saying you want to run off again without a word of explanation? What am I going to say to everyone? “Oh, Ben just decided to go off for a few days?”.’
Ben was about to answer when he heard a light, hesitant tap on the kitchen door behind him.
‘Who else is here?’ Brooke said, looking past his shoulder with a frown. Her face went dark as Roberta walked into the kitchen. ‘Ah. Now I think I know what “cropped up”,’ she seethed at Ben, pointing at Roberta. ‘Her. Am I right?’
‘You must be Brooke,’ Roberta said, approaching her with an uncertain smile. ‘I’m Roberta Ryder. Listen, I don’t want to be the cause of any dispute between—’
‘I know who you are,’ Brooke interrupted. ‘Ben doesn’t like to talk about you. Now I’m wondering why.’
‘Roberta needs my help,’ Ben said.
‘And where the hell did she come from all of a sudden?’ Brooke demanded.’
‘Canada,’ Roberta said. ‘By way of Paris. I—’
Brooke rounded on her. ‘Do you mind shutting up for a moment while I speak to my fiancé?’ Then, turning back to face Ben: ‘And so you’re just walking out on me?’
‘It’s not as if I want to.’
‘But you’re going to all the same.’
‘Ben,’ Roberta said, touching his shoulder. ‘It’s okay. I understand. You don’t have to do this.’
‘I’m involved now,’ Ben said, keeping his eyes on Brooke. ‘I can’t just back out.’
Jude was shaking his head in consternation, staring at Ben as if to say ‘what is the matter with you?’.
‘Maybe I was dreaming,’ Brooke said, tight-lipped, ‘Or maybe I was delirious from fever. But I remember very clearly how, that day in the middle of the jungle when you asked me to marry you, you swore to me that there’d be no more of this running off on these insane adventures and scaring the shit out of me all the time, not knowing if you’re going to come back in one piece.’ Her tone began to rise. ‘Didn’t you make that promise to me, Ben? All about how you were going to change your ways? Telling me all you wanted was to be at home with me?’
‘You didn’t dream it,’ he replied. ‘You weren’t delirious either. I did say those things. And I meant every word.’
‘You mean you meant them then. But you don’t mean them now.’
‘Try to understand,’ he reasoned. ‘Roberta’s in danger. Look at me. Look at her. She needs my help.’
‘Well, I’m sorry if Roberta’s in trouble,’ Brooke burst out. ‘We all have our problems. Why does this have to become mine? Why does it have to be you? Is there no other man in the world who can help her?’ She turned furiously to Roberta. ‘What are you doing, you stupid bloody bitch?’ she yelled in a voice close to breaking. ‘Why can’t you stay out of our lives?’
Roberta looked down at the floor and didn’t reply.
‘It’s not her fault,’ Ben said. ‘She’s got mixed up in this thing, and now I’m mixed up in it too. Brooke, please listen to me.’ He looked to Jude for support. ‘Come on, back me up here. Talk to her.’
Jude scowled at him. ‘Hey, Dad, it’s your problem.’
There was a long, palpable silence in the room. Brooke and Roberta both stared at Jude, then at Ben.
‘Oh, shit,’ Jude murmured, turning a few shades paler as he realised what he’d let slip.
‘What – did – you – just – say?’ Brooke asked him slowly.
‘Nothing,’ Jude stammered.
Ben’s blood had frozen into ice crystals. He’d forgotten to breathe.
‘Yes, you did, Jude,’ Brooke insisted. ‘You said “Dad”.’
Jude looked as if he wanted to run to the window and jump out. ‘It’s just, you know. A figure of speech. Like “daddyo”. The way he’s dressed. Er, or something.’ At that point Jude decided to clamp his mouth shut.
Brooke turned to Ben. ‘Why did he call you that? Why?’
The ice in Ben’s veins turned into molten lava and he felt his face flush. He took a deep breath and said, ‘He’s my son, Brooke.’
‘I thought there was something,’ Roberta murmured, glancing wryly back and forth at the two men.
Brooke seemed to sag as if the air had been sucked out of her. She moved across to a stool by the breakfast bar and sat down heavily on it. She couldn’t speak.
‘Sorry, guys. It just slipped out,’ Jude mumbled. ‘We only found out about it at Christmas,’ he added for Brooke’s benefit, as if that would help.
It took a few moments before Brooke had got her breath back. ‘Would you mind leaving us alone now, please?’ she said softly, looking up at Roberta. ‘Jude? Ben and I need to talk alone.’
‘That’s what I wanted in the first place,’ Ben muttered, shooting an angry look at Jude. Ashen-faced, the young man left the room without a word. Roberta glanced nervously at Ben, then followed Jude out of the door and closed it softly behind her.
Then Ben and Brooke were alone in the silence of the kitchen. She sank deep into agitated thought, wringing her hands. Her long, slim fingers were shaking.
‘Were you ever going to tell me?’ she asked him at last, just above a whisper.
‘I was trying to find the right moment,’ Ben said. ‘It never seemed to come. This wasn’t it either.’
‘Don’t you trust me? Have you no idea how hurtful this is? To be told something like that, in front of a stranger? You must have had a million opportunities—’