around in his hand, apparently soothed by the motion and the sliding rattle of the sweets.
'Are you going to say thank you?' Ben asked.
'It doesn't matter,' Colin said quickly, taking Ben's arm and leading him away. They went into the kitchen. Ben blocked open the door so he could see into the other room.
Colin stil looked upset. "What was al that about?'
'I told you, he's a bit touchy lately.'
'I didn't mean Jacob.' Ben went to the fridge. 'Beer?'
'If you're having one.' He handed Colin a can and a glass. He opened his own and drank straight from it.
'So are you going to tel me?' Colin asked.
Ben went to a kitchen drawer and took out the newspaper cuttings. He tossed them on the kitchen table. You don't have to read them al . The first one'l do.' Colin quickly scanned it, then looked up, puzzled. 'Sorry, I don't understand.'
'It's Jacob.' The words actual y hurt, a real physical pain in his throat Colin was frowning. I'm not with you.'
'The baby that was stolen. It was Jacob. Sarah did it.' Colin stared at him, then looked at the cutting again. Ben could see him struggling not to show his disbelief. 'Ben-' I'm not fucking fantasising. I'm serious.' He told him what had happened, from finding the cuttings to visiting Jessica. Tel ing it to someone else didn't help as much as he'd hoped. It just seemed to make it more real. When he had finished Colin glanced through the open doorway towards where Jacob was playing in the lounge.
'Christ.' Ben gave a crooked smile. "Yeah. That's what I thought.' He was shivering, although the house was warm. He drained the beer can and sat down. Œ:
'Have you told anyone else about this?' Colin asked.
You're the first'
'So no one else knows? You haven't mentioned it to your dad?' TSto.' Ben's mother had died while he was at university.
His father had remarried, a woman ten years his junior who made it clear she regarded Ben as competition for her husband's affections. Her presence came between them whether she was actual y there or not, an intangible barrier that became harder to overcome as time went by. She hadn't gone to Sarah's funeral, and even through the numbing grief of the day, he had heard his father's apologetic excuses and felt sorry for him. That had been the first time in a year they had seen each other, and the first time in six months they had spoken. His father was no longer someone in whom Ben confided.
"What about Sarah's parents?' Colin asked. 'Do they know?'
'I told you, I haven't told anybody.'
'I didn't mean that. I meant do you think they've known al along? Could Sarah have told them?'
'I doubt it. I don't think it was something she even acknowledged to herself. Not consciously. And if her parents ever suspected anything, I'm pretty sure I'd have picked something up from them before now.' Colin pul ed absently at his lower lip. Ben could see him beginning to sift and arrange the information, applying himself to it like any legal problem. 'Have you thought about what you're going to do?'
'I haven't thought about anything else. But I stil don't have a fucking due.' Colin's hand unconsciously went to straighten his tie, entirely the solicitor now. Ben had always envied the way he could calmly tackle problems. 'I don't think you need to decide anything straightaway. At this stage the main thing is not to go off half cocked. You need to make sure that whatever you do is best for everyone concerned. For a start, have you considered that Jessica might be lying?'
'She wasn't.'
'I'm not saying she was, only that it's a possibility you shouldn't overlook. I mean, what have you actual y got? Some old clippings, and the story of someone who, let's face it, isn't exactly out to do you any favours. Can you be one hundred per cent sure that she's not making this up just to cause trouble?' There was nothing Ben would have liked to believe more.
But, tempting as it was, he couldn't bring himself to accept it. 'She wouldn't do that. Not when it means