“Well, if you’re sure.”
“I’m sure. You get off to your next lesson.”
After Chris left, Kat turned to Ben. “Now, what was all that about?”
“I hate math and I hate her,” he mumbled without looking up.
“Mrs. Selby just wants you to do well, Ben. And if you’re really struggling with math then perhaps I can have a chat with Mr. Ellison about getting you some extra help.”
“Don’t want extra help. Don’t want to do it at all.”
“Well, if you grow up not even knowing how to multiply and divide, you’re not going to get very far. Anyway, let’s not worry about that right now. Come on—it’s a lovely day and you have a break now, so why don’t we go out into the garden and I’ll show you the book I’ve brought.”
Ben followed Kat outside, dragging his feet.
“It’s so beautiful, isn’t it?” she said, gesturing at the smooth green lawn spread out before them like a large patch of velvet surrounded by a vivid splash of colorful blooms carefully nurtured by Ned, the groundskeeper. “Don’t you think it’s a beautiful garden?” she asked Ben.
“We used to have a nice garden,” he responded quietly.
Ben had never mentioned his life before Flight to her. Kat crafted her response carefully. “If it was as nice as this one, you must have been very lucky.”
“Granddad used to do it.” Ben’s voice sounded wobbly. “He loved gardens. I helped him.”
“Your granddad must be a very nice and very clever man.”
“He used to be,” muttered Ben, grabbing the heads of some big red flowers and ripping them off.
“Ben!” cried Kat as he threw them onto the lawn. “Don’t do that.”
Ben looked at her then took off at a run, trampling the flower beds and darting in and out of the trees. Kat followed at a distance, keeping an eye on him but letting the boy let off steam.
Kat had never heard him mention his granddad’s illness before, and his condition obviously bothered Ben much more than she’d realized. She knew Mollie had to spend all her time caring for her husband, but it was more than a lack of attention from his grandmother that seemed to be at the root of Ben’s problems.
Like a lot of troubled children, Ben was far more sensitive than he let on. He was very susceptible to nature; she’d seen it in the sea sessions and again today when he’d finally let out some of his feelings in the garden. She would have to harness that sensitivity to find out more about his situation and help him regain some kind of balance.
Eventually, Ben made his way into the main house for lunch, so Kat headed to Mike’s office, hoping to get more details about Ben’s past.
“Hi,” Mike said, glancing up from some paperwork. “I could do with a distraction.”
“Not going to give me a hard time today?” she said, smiling.
“Look,” he responded, putting down his pen, “I know you’re totally professional and I believe in you and your methods—that’s why you’re here. You have to see my point of view, though. Luke is, understandably, in a strange place right now. The son no one knew about has turned up on his doorstep and he doesn’t quite know how to deal with it. You’ll probably say that he should have been in the boy’s life from the start but—”
“Of course he should,” Kat interrupted.
Mike shook his head. “No one’s perfect. Have you always done everything right in your life?”
“No,” she admitted. “I’ve made lots of mistakes in my life already.”
“Well, there you go, then,” he said. “All I ask is that you and Luke make an effort to get along for Ben’s sake. Or at least make an effort when he’s around.”
“Ben is the one who matters in all this,” she agreed. “By the way, while we’re on the subject, do you know anything about Ben’s background, anything about his granddad’s illness, perhaps, that might help me understand him better?”
“To be honest, our information is much briefer than I’d like,” Mike said. “You know as much as I do. Mollie and Jim Jackson brought him up while his mum, Carly, went back to finish her studies. When she was killed in a car crash a few months ago, I can only presume their grief and loss turned their lives upside down. Grief can change your whole world in an instant, completely uproot your perceptions, priorities and ambitions.
“Ben must have been, or felt, neglected by his grandparents. He’d lost his mother suddenly and then he lost the attention of his grandmother. He reacted by becoming withdrawn and lashing out when he was put under pressure, according to his social worker.”
“But what about Luke?” asked Kat. “Why didn’t he step in when his ex-wife died?”
Mike shrugged. “Who knows... Maybe no one told him he had a son. Or no one told him what had happened to Carly.”
Kat shot him a skeptical look.
Mike raised his hand. “Obviously I’m biased. I’m fond of Luke, I’ve known him a long time and I trust him. What’s important now is that he and his son develop a stable relationship—for Ben’s sake. Our job is to help them.”
“And I want to, but Luke and I have such different opinions on what matters. He seems to think discipline is the key to everything, but he’s wrong. Chris tried to discipline Ben earlier in her math class, and he just retreated even deeper into his shell. Love and stability are what counts.”
“Maybe that’s just what Luke knows, or what he experienced growing up. Perhaps he had a heavily disciplined childhood. I’m not saying his approach is right or wrong, but he’s not a therapist. I’m hoping you’ll be more open to his parenting style, Kat, but you are the expert. And I support you in that. Just keep in mind that Ben is the priority.”
Kat nodded. “Do you know what’s wrong with Ben’s granddad?” she asked, changing the subject. “I have a hunch that his condition has something to do with this.”
“Well, no,” Mike admitted. “I know he’s quite unwell, but I didn’t think the reason why was an issue.”
Kat shrugged. “It may not be... It’s just something Ben said. Perhaps I could meet up with his grandmother, have an informal chat.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Mike said. “If you promise me that you’ll make an effort with Luke.”
KAT PULLED THE keys for Number Three Cove Cottages from her pocket, her fingers shaking with excitement. The key ring had a metal fish attached to it, and it shone in the sunshine. As she approached the front door, she glanced behind her, sensing someone watching. But she didn’t see a soul and was met with silence. It wasn’t silent at all, though, she realized. Jenny Brown’s Bay was lonely and beautiful and bleak, perhaps, but never, ever silent.
The waves crashed onto the shore, rushing back out into the sparkling sea in a fizz of foam. The wind moaned softly, bringing with it a salty tang that lingered on her lips, and the cry of seagulls rose into the clear blue sky. She turned back to the red door.
Ted, the old man who had given her the keys, had talked a lot about her landlady, Elsa May Malone Evans. He thought very highly of her and Bryn, and of their daughter, Emma, but Kat got the impression that he hadn’t had much to do with Mick, their little boy. The history of the place intrigued her, and she longed to know more about the Evanses and what they’d done in Jenny Brown’s Bay.
She