Page 16 of No Kind Words

“Benny, it’s Amy. Are you coming in this morning? I heard all about your rescue last night, so it’s okay if you’re not. We’ve got it all under control. I just thought I’d check on you.”

I don’t even know what the time is, but seeing as it’s daylight, it’s later than I usually get up. Normally, I’m in the kitchen nearly every morning before sunrise. “Shit, Amy. I’m sorry. Give me half an hour, and I’ll be there.”

“Okay, but don’t rush. We’re managing fine.”

We say goodbye, and I stumble off to the bathroom to grab a shower.

I walk through the back door into the café’s kitchen. I’ll get out of my coat and my apron on before I face the crowds and the myriad of questions I don’t know the answer to. Hopefully, I have at least a text updating me on the dog. Maybe nothing has changed. Or maybe something bad has happened to her. I reach for my phone. Shit, I don’t have the number. If I don’t hear anything, I’ll go over there later.

As I walk from the kitchen into the shop, all eyes turn to me. Amy smiles at me. “I told you it was all under control.”

“I’ll have to promote you to manager if you keep this up.” Her eyes go wide at my suggestion. I was only kidding, but after my night and my desire to keep the dog, it doesn’t seem such a bad idea. Something for me to think about when I have an update. I face the counter and take my first order.

As I expected, every customer—and there are a lot more than usual for this time of year—has found out about last night and wants to know all the details. The speculation of who and what happened runs rife, becoming more elaborate and embellished as the morning goes on. I’m getting tired of talking about it all. It’s not until mid-afternoon before someone who may have a genuine update comes into the shop—Luke. Not the person I wanted to hear it from, but better than no one informing me.

“Hey, can I get a takeout order?” he asks Maddie, but he gives me a nod. “Can I talk to you, Benny? Do you have time?”

“Of course. Come through.” I open the pass to let him in. Luke worked for me for a long time over the school holidays and later through college. He knows his way around the café. “Is it about the dog?” I ask him once we’re away from the eyes and ears of the customers.

“Yes, Jet wondered if you could call around after you’ve finished here. There are some things he wants to explain.”

And he couldn’t be bothered to come and see me himself. He really is an arsehole. “I’m not sure I’ll have time. I was late getting here this morning. Just tell me if she’s doing okay.”

Luke shuffles his feet as if he wants to get out of here as quickly as possible. “Yeah, she’s improving. But I think it’s important what Jet wants to say to you. I told him it would be better if he told you himself, but he’s busy today.”

“As long as the little dog is getting better, I don’t think there’s anything else to talk to me about,” I snap. “I’m sorry, Luke. I know this isn’t your business. Can you let Jethro know I won’t be coming over?”

“Okay, yeah, sure. Sorry to have bothered you.”

“Luke, you haven’t bothered me, not one bit. I’m sorry you got to be the messenger. I hope you get on well there.”

He gives me a small smile like it’s his fault I’m annoyed. Poor kid. He dashes to the counter, collects the lunch order, and walks out.

Bloody Jethro. Why is he doing this? If he wants to talk, he can get off his arse and come to me. I’m not chasing after a man who has already broken my heart.

The afternoon goes slowly, like snail slow, paint-drying slow, and all because I want to get to Ben’s house and bloody throttle him. The bloody, stubborn man. I’ve got things to tell him about the pup he brought in, sad things, things I hoped he’d want to hear, seeing how devoted he was to wait through the operation. Honestly, I thought he’d be on the doorstep as we opened. I’m sure he will want to adopt her, even though she’s not going to be easy to look after, at least not to begin with.

The phone call to the registered owner went down like a lead balloon, even when I told him my opinion on how she got her injuries. He said I couldn’t prove any of it and reiterated to have her euthanised. My refusal pissed him off, so I said I would rehome her and put the phone down on him. I can’t prove he ran her over on purpose, but I can make sure she never sees him again. I could keep her myself; Isla won’t be jealous. She’s always played nicely with other dogs. But that’s not where I think she should be. She should be with my very mulish ex-bloody-boyfriend.

At last, it’s time to close. Maeve is on duty tonight and will be sleeping in the small on-call room I managed to squeeze into the corner of the building. “Call me if there are any problems.”

“Will do. Have a good night.” Maeve glares at me, her words weighed down with another meaning—go and speak to him.

I whistle for Isla and open the back door into the private parking area. I look at my little cottage. It’ll only be a week or so before I can move in. Maeve has stayed in Ivan’s house. They’ve come to an agreement over rent. She seems settled, even in the middle of a wet and windy Devon winter. The Scottish girl is happy in any kind of weather. It’s her highland upbringing, she says.

When I get into my car, I crank up the heat, even though it’s only a five-minute drive to Ivan’s rental, but I hate being cold. The high street is quiet. Most of the stores are shut, but lights are on at a couple of restaurants and one just farther up, the one that belongs to Ben. I didn’t realise he stayed open late. I thought he’d close at five thirty like the other shops. As I get closer, I see it’s empty. I slow down. The Closed sign is on the door. So, why am I pulling over and stopping? I have no intention of going to the door, but memories of our conversations from too long ago come back. His love of cooking, but he knew there wasn’t any way he could go to college to study. His parents were old and needed him to help them out. It was why he worked at the supermarket; he had set hours that fitted around his home-life commitments.

They must be long passed. Is that how he ended up fulfilling his dream? I doubt I’ll ever know if I don’t make a move to speak to him. Last night was hard enough, and then my mind was on the job, and I had Maeve around. I could smell him, the rich cinnamon and spicy scent that was always him. It made my heart race and my skin prickle with goosebumps. It was shocking how quickly I reacted to him, that my body remembered him so acutely. How much I wanted him. The pedestal I put him on when I left was my downfall. No man stood a chance at anything serious with me. No one matched the way my body sang for Ben. So why didn’t he contact me? I left the letter for him with my mum. I trusted her not to say anything to my father and pass it on.

The lights in the café go off, and the door opens. I stay rooted in my seat as Ben locks up, then, with the collar of his coat turned up, walks away. On autopilot, I put the car back in gear and follow him. He doesn’t notice me until he stops at a corner, checking around for any traffic.

Our eyes lock, and he takes a step back from the kerb, looking like he’s going to change direction. Before he can, I open the window. “Ben, wait.”

“What do you want?” he asks. I want to roll my eyes at the ridiculousness of the question. What does he think I want?

“To talk. I’d like to talk to you. It’s been too long.” I’ve had enough of staying away. The town is too small for us to be apart. We share the same group of friends, for god’s sake. I get that he doesn’t want anything from me, that we’re not the same people we were fifteen years ago, but I’d like to get to know him again. There’s no reason we can’t be friends.

“Why? Why now? You’ve been back here for well over a month and didn’t want to talk. Not even when I brought the dog to you.” He hasn’t moved from the pavement to get closer to my car nor made any eye contact with me.

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