Though involuntary, Ben's hand-squeeze put Ginny at rest. That, and he didn't seem as drunk as he smelled, which was reassuring. As he rattled off what she needed to wipe from his memory, Ginny silently repeated each back in her mind; she wasn't about to get any bit of this wrong, after what Ben had done for her, for the Order. This was a matter of life and death, and at the very least, a great amount of torture for anyone or anything that might slip through the cracks and crevices of Ben's mind.
The last bit tripped Ginny up a touch, though it made complete sense. Even if changing the reason Ben became a Death Eater could save Ben's life, and it probably would if he was thoroughly mind-searched by Voldemort using Legilimency, it was also the final nail in the proverbial coffin. For a moment, Ginny wanted to grab Ben, apparate, and take him anywhere safe. Ben being a real Death Eater made him an enemy, and Ben just didn't make sense as a real Death Eater. He didn't seem like the kind to just kill without remorse and generally act with such cruelty on senseless principle.
But Ben had done everything for her, for the Order. Ginny would do for him what he asked of her. "Alright. I'm going to ask you to step outside the wards in a second, facing the pub in the distance. I'll Obliviate from behind you, step inside the wards, and apparate away. I imagine, when you are done, you will see the pub and just go back that way. Are you ready?" Ginny looked at Ben, awaiting his reply.