Wall of Silence

by Tracy Buchanan

  ‘Shut up,’ Lewis hissed at her.

  ‘Joel?’ Melissa turned to Graham. ‘What did you say about Joel?’

  ‘Does it matter what was said?’ Charlie spat as she turned to her father, who suddenly looked his age, frail and scared. ‘You can’t just go around hitting a sixty-three-year-old man. Honestly, I think this just proves everything I said yesterday.’

  ‘Oh, shut up, you silly bitch,’ Lilly said.

  Melissa’s mouth dropped open as the two detectives looked on in surprise.

  ‘Are you going to do something about this?’ Belinda Bell said to the detectives.

  Detective Powell sighed, getting out her notepad.

  ‘What exactly happened, Mr Cane?’ she asked.

  ‘It all happened so quickly,’ Graham said, putting his hand to his head. ‘I was chatting to Belinda here and then the boy grabbed my shoulder and made me turn around. He started shouting in my face, I shouted back because I will not have a child tell me what to do, and then wham, he hit me.’

  ‘Slapped,’ Ryan said again under his breath.

  Detective Powell gave him a sharp look.

  Melissa closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose as Grace grasped her hand. This was awful.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mum,’ Lewis said in a low, miserable voice. ‘But seriously, what he said about you was out of order.’

  ‘What did you say?’ Ryan asked, crossing his arms as he looked down at Graham.

  ‘I was only telling the truth, about you and Melissa having an affair,’ Graham said to Ryan in a shaky voice. ‘It isn’t just Melissa either. The Byatts aren’t as perfect as everyone thinks, you know,’ he added, looking at the detectives. People around him murmured in disapproval. ‘Oh, come on,’ Graham said to them all. ‘You all know what I mean, all those lock-ins at the Neck of the Woods when the Sharpes ran it, the tinkle of keys being thrown into a bowl. We all know Patrick has slept with half the women in this village.’

  Melissa’s stomach dropped. ‘What?’

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Forest Grove Facebook Chit Chat Group

  Wednesday 24th April, 2019

  5.40 p.m.

  Eamon Piper

  Just wanted to post in support of Graham Cane. Hope you’re holding up, old friend.

  Rebecca Feine

  Support? I can’t believe the outrageous things Graham said about the Byatts. He deserved that slap!

  Kitty Fletcher

  What happened?

  Pauline Sharpe

  Weren’t you at the book fair earlier?

  Kitty Fletcher

  I was at a lecture. Is Graham okay?

  Eamon Piper

  Lewis Byatt punched him. He’s down the station now, being questioned by the police.

  Rebecca Feine

  Ryan said it was a slap. And can I just say, the Neck of the Woods is a very different kind of establishment now Bobby and I have taken over.

  Belinda Bell

  Slapped or punched, it was out of order. That child is feral.

  Kitty Fletcher

  What did Graham say to Lewis? And what has the pub got to do with it all?

  Rebecca Feine

  I don’t want to repeat it here.

  Belinda Bell

  If you won’t, I will: the Byatts have been swingers for years. Remember the old pub lock-ins back in the day? Well, now we all know what went on in there.

  Ellie Mileham

  What an utterly ridiculous thing to say!

  Graham Cane

  It most certainly isn’t. It’s been known by a few of us old crew for a while now.

  Eamon Piper

  He’s back! Can’t keep a Forest Grovian down. Tell more, please, Graham.

  Kitty Fletcher

  The Byatts are Forest Grovians too, you know. Can we be mindful of the fact that anyone can be reading these posts, please, including those poor vulnerable Byatt children? This is a police matter now so be careful what you say.

  Graham Cane

  Kitty is quite right, this is a police matter, which means I can’t talk about what happened last night. However, what I will say is that this proves there’s more to the Byatt family than the perfect picture they present to the world. And with the news that the police have released the man they arrested for the attack on Patrick, I think a lot of interesting developments will take place. Maybe this wasn’t a break-in at all? Maybe the police will look at the family more.

  Andrew Blake

  And Ryan Day too. I’ve always wondered about him and Melissa.

  Debbie Lampard

  How exactly do you know all this, Graham? I can’t imagine Melissa being unfaithful. And I certainly can’t imagine Ryan Day being involved in any pub lock-ins and swinger parties, Andrew!

  Graham Cane

  Who said ‘unfaithful’? Didn’t I say they were swingers? All consensual.

  Pauline Sharpe

  My mum and dad used to run the pub back then. Debbie is right. Melissa was never involved in all that, nor Ryan.

  Rebecca Feine

  What about Patrick?

  Pauline Sharpe

  No comment. All I’ll say is that those of us who went to school with Patrick will remember what he was like.

  Ellie Mileham

  What’s that supposed to mean, Pauline? Peter used to stay on at those pub lock-ins with Patrick. It was just lads having a few drinks.

  Graham Cane

  You keep telling yourself that, love.

  Rebecca Feine

  Oh, come on, Ellie, surely you know what Patrick’s like? I’m not saying Peter’s the same but Patrick has always had a way with the ladies. The whole village knows it. I’ve always felt so sorry for Melissa.

  Belinda Bell

  Finally, it’s out in the open! Been desperate to say something.

  Kitty Fletcher

  God, the poor man has only been in a coma a week and the rumours all start to come out.

  Pauline Sharpe

  I’m surprised it took that long for all the old skeletons to come out of the closet. Everyone knows what Patrick’s like. He’s a lovely guy but he really can’t keep his pecker in his pants.

  Andrew Blake

  Yep, Andrea Cooper will tell you. She’s been shagging Patrick for years.

  Andrea Cooper

  How dare you! Count this post deleted, and any more speculation like this will lead to an instant dismissal from the group.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Wednesday 24th April, 2019

  5.45 p.m.

  Melissa sat across from the two detectives with Lewis, trying to wrap her head around what Lewis had overheard Graham saying. Patrick did enjoy a few extra drinks with his friends when the Neck of the Woods used to have lock-ins many years back. Patrick would come in late at night, smelling of red wine and cigarette smoke. Melissa used to get annoyed with him, especially when she was pregnant with the twins and utterly exhausted. But that didn’t mean Patrick was a womaniser!

  The thing was, Patrick had had his indiscretions in the past. But that was years ago, when they were both eighteen. She’d caught him kissing Andrea Cooper behind the forest centre once after a Christmas party. When she confronted him, Patrick told her it was just a one-off. But a few weeks later she found a love letter from Andrea making it clear things had continued. When she confronted Patrick yet again, he told her he couldn’t help himself. Melissa hadn’t yet let him sleep with her, despite them being together for four years by then. They did everything else, but she was adamant she wanted to wait before losing her virginity, despite the pressure he put on her.

  But Patrick made her wonder if she’d taken it too far. She’d deprived him of the satisfaction all young men needed . . . that was what he’d told her, anyway. So she eventually forgave him for his affair with Andrea and gave in to him too, finally losing her virginity to him on a cold autumnal night in the forest, sticks and dying leaves digging into her skin as he thrust into her.

  Since th
en, there had been no more instances.

  Or so she had believed, anyway.

  Could he really have been cheating on her all this time? Oh God, this was all too much to take.

  She pressed her hands between her legs, doing her best to suppress the tears.

  ‘Tea? Coffee?’ Detective Crawford asked. They were sitting in a small, cold interview room at Ashbridge Police Station. Lewis had been arrested and hauled in for slapping Graham Cane. But Melissa got the feeling it was more than that. The detectives needed an excuse to dig around in the family’s secrets and lies, which had just been spilled out at the book fair.

  ‘Nothing for me, thanks,’ Melissa said, making her voice strong. She looked at Lewis. He’d gone into himself and was just staring down at his hands on the table.

  ‘Right, Lewis,’ Detective Crawford said, peering towards the whirring recording device, ‘let’s start with what you overheard Graham Cane saying.’

  Melissa looked at Lewis, interested to know the details too, no matter how much it hurt.

  Lewis peered at his mum, and the look of despair in his eyes made her feel terrible. ‘Come on, darling,’ she said softly. ‘Answer the question.’

  Lewis leaned back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head and taking a deep breath. ‘I overheard him mentioning Mum’s name so I stopped and listened.’ His eyes flickered to his mother, then away again.

  ‘What exactly was he saying, Lewis?’

  Lewis put his head in his hands.

  ‘Lewis?’ the detective pushed.

  ‘He said any family that’s the product of Frank and Ruby Quail must be dodgy,’ he mumbled, ‘and that there’s more to the Byatt family than the perfect picture we present to the world.’

  A vein in Melissa’s neck pulsed. Bloody busybody.

  ‘What else did he say?’ Detective Crawford pushed, his eyes on Lewis’s.

  ‘That Mum and Dad were involved in these, like, weird parties at the pub,’ Lewis mumbled. ‘That’s it.’

  ‘Do you know anything about these parties, Mrs Byatt?’ the detective asked her.

  ‘No!’ Melissa replied. ‘As far as I know, they were just pub lock-ins, a chance for people to have a few extra drinks, nothing more. And I never went to one, I promise.’

  ‘But Patrick did?’ Detective Powell asked.

  Melissa sighed. ‘He did, yes, but they were innocent, just a few extra drinks, like I said.’

  Detective Powell tilted her head. ‘How can you be so sure if you weren’t there?’

  Melissa didn’t know how to answer that. She wasn’t sure. She raked her shaky fingers through her hair.

  Lewis watched her, his hands curling into fists.

  ‘Mrs Byatt,’ Detective Crawford started, ‘has your—’

  ‘You’re here to question me, right?’ Lewis suddenly shouted. ‘Just leave my mum alone!’

  ‘Lewis!’ Melissa said, looking at him in surprise.

  ‘Quite a temper you have on you there, Lewis,’ Detective Crawford observed.

  ‘Do you often lose your temper?’ Detective Powell asked. ‘I believe there have been a number of incidents where you’ve lashed out over the years?’ She looked at her notepad, flicking through it before she got to a particular page. ‘Sixteen separate occasions at school, I believe, resulting in two suspensions and a boy’s broken nose.’ She looked up at Lewis, raising an eyebrow.

  ‘Yeah, there’s been some stuff,’ Lewis said.

  ‘It’s something we’ve been addressing,’ Melissa added quickly. ‘He’s come on leaps and bounds. Not one incident the past year, right, Lewis?’

  ‘Until football practice yesterday,’ Detective Powell said.

  Shit, Melissa thought. So they knew about that too. Who was telling them all this?

  ‘Lewis has been through a lot the past few days,’ Melissa said, knowing the excuse sounded weak.

  ‘Yes,’ Detective Crawford said. ‘Of course we understand that traumatic events can trigger children with a condition like Lewis’s.’

  ‘Condition?’ Melissa echoed.

  Detective Crawford nodded his head. ‘I believe you were diagnosed with an anxiety disorder when you were just six, Lewis?’

  Melissa glanced between the two detectives, confused. ‘What are you talking about?’

  Detective Crawford looked at his notes. ‘On the sixth of June 2010, your husband attended a meeting with Lewis’s primary school teacher, Mrs Swan, about Lewis’s violent outbursts during class time. During that meeting, your husband informed Mrs Swan that Lewis had been diagnosed with an anxiety condition during child therapy sessions the twins had with local therapist Kitty Fletcher.’

  Melissa’s mouth dropped open. She had had no idea about this.

  She turned to Lewis. ‘Is this true? Did Dad take you and Lilly to see Kitty Fletcher?’

  Lewis’s brow furrowed. ‘I vaguely remember Dad took me and Lils there to play sometimes after pre-school. I didn’t realise it was, like, therapy.’

  Melissa looked down at the table, trying to gather her thoughts. There had been a year, after Joel died, when Patrick would leave work early to pick the twins up from pre-school two days a week. Sure, he’d sometimes come back late with the twins, taking them to the park or the café in the forest centre, sometimes to his parents’ . . . or that was what he had told her, anyway.

  Could he have been taking them to see a therapist once a week? Why not tell her, though? She wouldn’t have minded. The kids had been through the trauma of losing their brother, after all.

  Is that where it had all gone wrong? Lost in her grief for her first child, she hadn’t even noticed the twins falling apart. Like when Lewis started wetting the bed and Lilly took to having full-on ‘legs in the air’ tantrums. And then little Grace, growing in her belly at the most awful time of Melissa’s life. The twins were so young, their little minds still forming. Something that traumatic in their childhood could easily have repercussions later on in life. Even worse that their own mother wouldn’t truly be there, mentally and emotionally, afterwards.

  Could those repercussions be dark enough to make one of them one day lash out at their dad? How long before the police began to wonder the same – especially about Lewis, after that outburst?

  She suddenly got a flash of Jacob Simms. She’d seen the photos of his injuries from his beating that last day in St Fiacre’s, the sickening bruises and broken bones.

  The thought of Lewis going through the same sent a knell of horror through her.

  ‘You look shocked, Melissa,’ Detective Crawford said.

  ‘I – I wasn’t aware Patrick had taken the kids to see a therapist.’

  ‘Strange,’ Detective Powell observed, ‘for a husband not to tell his wife something like that.’

  ‘Not really,’ Lewis said. ‘Mum was a mess after Joel died.’

  Melissa felt her skin go clammy. She had been a mess . . . and Lewis, not quite four years old, had noticed it.

  ‘So what happens now?’ she said quickly, desperate to change the subject. ‘Can you take into account what Lewis has been through the past week? What we’ve all been through?’

  Detective Crawford took in a deep breath, watching Lewis. Then he nodded. ‘On this occasion, you’re released with no charge, Lewis.’ Melissa looked up at the ceiling in relief as Lewis slumped back in his chair, closing his eyes. Detective Powell shook her head slightly, clearly disapproving. Detective Crawford leaned across the table towards Lewis, locking eyes with him. ‘But any more incidents and I can tell you now, I will not be so lenient. Understood?’

  Lewis nodded. ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Right,’ Detective Crawford said, standing up with his colleague, ‘we have work to do. Your father’s attacker is still on the loose, after all,’ he said, eyeing them both. ‘I’m sure you’re both keen for us to find that attacker . . . aren’t you?’

  ‘Of course,’ Melissa said. She tried to sound calm, but the note of suspicion in his voice made her whole body quake
with fear.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Wednesday 24th April, 2019

  7.45 p.m.

  Melissa stared at Patrick’s face later, trying to uncover the secrets and lies there as she took in his familiar straight nose and high cheekbones. ‘There was no one after Andrea, was there?’

  She watched the monitor for a response.

  Nothing.

  ‘Knock, knock,’ a voice said. Melissa quickly pulled away from Patrick to see Joel’s old nurse, Debbie, peering in. ‘I heard you were here. Mind if I join you?’

  ‘Sure.’

  Debbie walked in, face darkening for a moment as she looked at Patrick. ‘How’s he doing?’

  ‘They said he’s doing much better.’ Melissa’s voice caught in her throat, tears flooding her eyes as she thought of the shattered pieces of their family that he’d wake up to.

  ‘Oh, love,’ Debbie said, taking the seat next to Melissa and hugging her. ‘He’s strong, he’ll pull through. And you’re strong too,’ she added, smiling sympathetically at Melissa.

  ‘Really?’ Melissa said. ‘I honestly don’t think so, Debbie.’

  Another nurse rolled a trolley in then, stopping short when she saw Debbie. ‘Oh, hello, you. I thought your shift had ended?’

  ‘Just popping by to see one of my favourite people,’ Debbie said. ‘In fact, why don’t you go get yourself a cuppa and I’ll sort Patrick out. As long as Melissa doesn’t mind?’

  Melissa shook her head, looking at Patrick.

  ‘You sure?’ the nurse asked Debbie. ‘Shouldn’t you be going home now?’

  ‘To what? Gary will be at work,’ she said, referring to her husband. ‘Go, before I change my mind.’

  The nurse quickly left and Debbie pulled the trolley over, setting about washing Patrick: gently cleaning his legs and arms while Melissa used wipes to clean his hands. Melissa remembered sitting with Patrick as he had a bath a week before the incident. She remembered the way he had pulled her in with him, even though she had her pyjamas on. Had he been thinking of another woman when he did that?

  She felt tears burn the back of her eyes.

  ‘He has nice nails,’ Debbie observed. Melissa wondered if she’d heard what Graham had said.

  ‘Yes,’ Melissa replied, ‘he likes to keep them tip-top. He even lets Lilly and Grace give him manicures sometimes.’