Wall of Silence

by Buchanan, Tracy

  Graham Cane

  ‘Wood’ you please stop being such a snowflake, Rebecca Feine? (See what I did there?)

  Andrew Blake

  Graham Cane, ha ha!

  Kitty Fletcher

  I can’t believe you’re making jokes about this, Graham Cane and Andrew Blake.

  Graham Cane

  Black humour. Best way to ‘tree’t a tragedy.

  Kitty Fletcher

  As a certified therapist, I can tell you it most certainly isn’t. It’s just another way of bottling it up.

  Graham Cane

  Was wondering when you’d bring up your qualifications, Kitty!

  Belinda Bell

  Ryan was visiting New Pine Road checking on number 7’s tree yesterday afternoon. I saw his van.

  Andrea Cooper

  Right, everyone, as much as I’m all for freedom of speech, can I remind you all this is an ongoing investigation so comments CLOSED!

  Chapter Nine

  Friday 19th April, 2019

  10.13 a.m.

  Melissa woke to the smell of frying bacon and pancakes, her head throbbing as though she’d spent the whole evening before drinking cider. In the few hours of sleep she’d managed to snatch, her dreams had been filled with the forest, of her frantically running through the trees and trying to find her children. She thought of the old oak in the distance, a cracked branch on the ground, a silver ballet shoe below. It was a nightmare she had often. But it was worse than ever. Something was wrong, very wrong, she just couldn’t figure out what . . . Then the memory of Patrick lying on the floor and the weight of their children’s silence ploughed into her brain.

  ‘Oh, Patrick,’ she whispered, tears flooding her eyes.

  She quickly grabbed her phone, scrolling past scores of texts of support and Facebook alerts to find the one text she really wanted to read – the promised update from Rosemary, who had gone straight back to the hospital when Melissa had returned in the early hours.

  No change. Hope you had a good rest. X

  She looked at the clock. She’d already rested too much! The sudden urgency to speak to the kids propelled her out of bed despite her throbbing head, the clarity of morning making her desperately regret keeping the disappearance of the knife from the police.

  What had she been thinking?

  She brushed her teeth and pulled on yesterday’s clothes, rubbing some deodorant under her arms before jogging downstairs. It felt strange to be sleeping here again after all these years. It had once been her sanctuary but now she always felt a little uncomfortable here. The kids and Patrick loved it, though. It was the first house to be built in Forest Grove over twenty-six years before, a sprawling lodge, half brick, half wood, with five large bedrooms. The land around it was huge, with pastures and meadows plus their own patch of private forest. The kids loved it and would have sleepovers there whenever Melissa and Patrick had their monthly date night. They even had a key to the house, always welcome, whatever the time. The kitchen always smelt of something delicious, from the amazing muffins Bill loved to make to Rosemary’s first-rate curries. The large corduroy sofa in the living room was ancient but the most comfortable sofa going, and books filled every shelf scattered around the house.

  Even though the house was less than thirty years old, it felt ancient to the kids, who were used to their modern home. Forest Grove had just consisted of the one road of five large properties when it was built, but over the years four more roads had been added, forming circles around the forest, Old and New Pine Road the closest to the woods.

  The girls were sitting on kitchen stools now, drinking orange juice as Lewis helped Bill cook some bacon. At first, it seemed a bit inappropriate to Melissa, the way Bill was frying up a breakfast after what had happened the night before. But then she realised he was probably just trying to present a sense of normality for his grandchildren.

  The kids were still in their nightwear, faces pale and wan. They always managed to look more vulnerable in their night clothes, even Lewis in his #NOTTIRED T-shirt, which Lilly had got him for his birthday last summer, a reference to how restless her insomniac brother was at night. Sprawled out behind them was the forest, a lone hawk watching from the trees. The morning sun filtered in through the kitchen window, yellow and speckled, like it often was in the forest.

  They all looked up when their mother walked in, a flicker of worry in their eyes. They were clearly expecting a grilling from her, and they were bloody right! She peered over at Bill. Should she bring it all up now, in front of her father-in-law: the way the kids had been, the disappearing knife, the lies and the secrets Melissa saw weighing heavily on her children’s shoulders? God knew Bill and Rosemary were experts at sharing heavy burdens. But this was different. She wasn’t a child any more. She was a mother and her first duty was to her kids. She needed to know everything first, then she’d make a decision about who else to tell. Plus, she needed to remember Patrick was Rosemary and Bill’s child and he was their priority . . . maybe over their own grandchildren. So she needed Bill gone before she could grill the kids.

  She looked at the clock. When would she be alone with the kids, though?

  Sandy trotted over to her, nudging his wet nose into her skin as he tried to get her attention. Bill and Rosemary’s two chocolate Labradors sat obediently on their expensive beds in the gated utility room, their coats gleaming. What a contrast they were to Sandy, who still had mud on his golden coat from his walk the day before and was now trying to grab a piece of bacon from Bill’s pan as he shoved him away.

  Bill and Rosemary bred show Labradors. The famous Byatt Labrador line of show dogs had been on a winning streak for the past thirty years, even picking up a Crufts ‘Best in Show’ win. The litters their dogs produced were in high demand, with families willing to spend over a thousand pounds for a Byatt Labrador puppy.

  Sandy, however, was a happy mistake that had occurred five years ago after one of the Byatt bitches, Bertha, had an entanglement with a golden Labrador during a walk in the woods. Unfortunately, Melissa had been the one walking her. Funnily enough, her in-laws had never allowed Melissa to walk their precious dogs again. Melissa could see on their faces each time they saw Sandy how much they resented the one blip in an otherwise perfect lineage. Bill had even suggested Bertha have an abortion when he found out she’d been impregnated by a ‘standard’ pet dog. Luckily, the twins had their grandfather wrapped around their little fingers so were able to convince him to keep the puppies, taking one of the four that were born for themselves.

  Melissa went to each of the twins now, kissing them on their foreheads and pulling them into a hug, whispering that she loved them as she did so. She then gave Grace a big cuddle. They each relaxed into her, relief exuding from them that she wasn’t going to jump in with the interrogation about the missing knife . . . yet.

  ‘How was Patrick when you left him?’ Melissa asked Bill.

  ‘Same,’ Bill said with a sigh.

  ‘We’ll go see him once we’re ready, won’t we, kids?’ Melissa said, examining each of their faces for any clue of what they’d witnessed the day before.

  They all seemed to squirm in their seats, avoiding her gaze. Melissa’s stomach dropped. Why would they not want to see their injured father?

  Bill frowned as he regarded them too, then he took a deep breath, gesturing to the spare stool next to Grace. ‘First get a Byatt breakfast in you.’

  It was a tradition, the famous ‘Byatt breakfast’. Every month, after Patrick and Melissa’s regular ‘date night’, Bill, Patrick and Lewis would prepare a fry-up. The three generations of Byatt men were as tight as you could get, playing football together in the local park each Sunday, always joking around. They were all so similar too, with their tall strong frames and feline brown eyes. Lewis really looked up to his grandad, in awe of the years he’d spent as a soldier, often grilling him about what had happened as he prepared breakfast. Grace would join in, wanting to know all the gory facts as Lilly grimaced in disg
ust.

  There was no animated talk now, though. They were all wordless and exhausted as a breakfast probably none of them would be able to finish was made.

  Melissa noticed then that Lilly was wearing an oversized T-shirt from the production of Wicked they’d gone to see the summer before.

  ‘Oh God,’ Melissa said. ‘Your role in The Sound of Music. Did you get it?’

  Lilly paused a moment then nodded. ‘I did!’

  ‘That’s just wonderful news!’ Bill said. ‘I knew you’d do it! Our talented, beautiful Lilly, true Byatt genes at work there,’ he said, gesticulating at her with his spatula, grease flying everywhere. ‘Your dad will be proud.’

  Melissa did her best to ignore the slight from Bill; she was used to it, after all. She leaned across and encircled her daughter’s hand. ‘Dad will be proud.’

  Lilly’s hand tensed and she pulled it away. Melissa frowned. What was going on with these kids?

  When breakfast was ready, they all ate silently. Bill, who usually devoured everything on his plate, picked at his food.

  ‘I really think you should get some sleep, Bill,’ Melissa said, desperate to question the children. ‘Go and have a couple more hours of rest. I’ll tidy up and wake you if there’s any news.’

  Bill didn’t answer at first and Melissa began to worry he’d insist on staying awake. ‘Maybe I should grab a couple of hours,’ Bill finally conceded, placing his fork down and sighing. He stood and kissed each of his grandchildren on their heads before waving at Melissa and walking upstairs. When Melissa heard his bedroom door click shut, she turned to the kids.

  ‘I know the knife was moved.’

  She waited to gauge their reactions. They just dropped their gazes to the table, not saying a word.

  ‘It was there, on the kitchen floor,’ she continued, ‘then it was gone.’ She leaned forward, heart thumping. ‘Did one of you move it?’

  They continued to keep their eyes on the table.

  She looked at them in surprise. ‘Kids, this is serious. Really serious.’

  ‘We know, Mum,’ Lewis said, peering at her from under his dark fringe.

  ‘So tell me what the hell happened,’ Melissa snapped, unable to comprehend why they were being so tight-lipped about it all.

  ‘We told you,’ Lewis said. ‘We found Dad like that.’

  ‘I’m not asking about that, I’m asking about the knife!’ Melissa said.

  Lewis blinked at her then shrugged. ‘Don’t know.’

  But he did. She could tell he did!

  She jumped up. ‘Don’t know? Don’t know? Your dad is lying in hospital clinging to life, and you hid the bloody knife used to stab him. I know you did, because how else did it disappear?’

  The three children looked at each other but still didn’t say anything.

  ‘Jesus Christ,’ Melissa said. ‘What’s going on? Why are you not telling me? I’m your mother, you have to tell me!’

  ‘Calm down, Mum,’ Lilly hissed.

  ‘I will not calm down. Tell me right this minute. Right now.’

  Still that heavy, impenetrable wall of silence.

  ‘Fine,’ she said, her voice trembling with anger as she reached for her phone. ‘I wanted to give you a chance to tell me but looks like I’m just going to have to tell the police about the missing knife.’

  ‘We did hide it!’ Grace shouted.

  ‘Grace!’ Lewis said, glaring at his little sister.

  ‘No, Lewis!’ Melissa shouted at her son. ‘Let her speak.’ She placed her phone down and put her hand on her younger daughter’s arm. ‘Tell Mum what happened, darling,’ she asked, softening her voice.

  Grace opened her mouth then she shook her head, shoulders dropping. ‘I can’t.’

  Melissa’s mouth dropped open. She turned her attention to her older daughter. ‘Lilly, do you have anything to say?’

  Lilly shifted in her chair, uncomfortable, but didn’t say anything.

  ‘This is ridiculous!’ Melissa said, throwing her hands in the air in frustration. Grace flinched at the loudness of her mother’s voice and Melissa sighed. Maybe she was being too hard on them, but it was ridiculous. How could they keep something so serious from her? ‘Look,’ she said, trying to calm herself down, ‘you three are my priority. You know that, right? All I want is the best for you, as Dad would too. And I’m telling you right now, the best thing for you to do is tell me what’s going on. I won’t be angry at you. I won’t go straight to the police if you don’t want me to. As long as you tell me the truth, I will listen.’

  She waited for one of them to say something, but still nothing.

  ‘Are you covering for the person who did it?’ Melissa asked, a trace of panic in her voice. ‘Is it someone we know?’

  ‘We’re protecting each other,’ Grace said in a whisper.

  Melissa froze.

  ‘What do you mean, protecting each other?’ she asked. ‘From what?’

  They gave each other panicked glances.

  The voice telling Melissa one of the kids had done it screamed in her mind. She gripped the edge of the counter so tight her knuckles turned white. She felt her breakfast work its way up again.

  She got up off her stool and started pacing the kitchen. Then she came back to the counter, placing her palms flat down on it and staring at her kids. ‘Was it an accident? A stupid, freakish accident? Because honestly, I’ll understand, I just need to know.’

  They all remained silent. It was a deliberate silence. A planned silence. She could see it in their eyes: they’d made a pact with one another not to say a word.

  ‘This is serious, guys. Deadly serious,’ she said again. ‘You have to tell me what happened. Was there an argument? Did it get out of control?’

  Even as Melissa said it, it felt unfathomable to her. Sure, they had their disagreements, all families did. But an argument so serious it led to someone getting hurt?

  No. No no no!

  ‘This is stupid,’ Lewis said, pushing away from the counter. ‘We’re not going to tell you, Mum, we’re just not.’

  Her mouth dropped open. This was unbelievable! She grabbed his arm and made him turn to her. ‘How dare you? You will tell me. If you don’t, I’m going to the police.’

  Tears sprang to Lewis’s brown eyes. ‘Please don’t, Mum,’ he pleaded with her.

  ‘Why?’

  The doorbell rang, followed by knocking on the door. Melissa let out a frustrated moan. ‘Okay, stay here, don’t move. We’re continuing this conversation in a minute.’

  Melissa opened the door to see Jackie Shillingford holding a basket of something in her hands, her husband, Ross, beside her. They lived next door to Rosemary and Bill and were two of the original residents of Forest Grove too. Melissa had got to know them well after moving in with the Byatts, especially Jackie, who shared her passion for protecting the environment. They’d even attended a climate change march in London the week before.

  ‘I hope you don’t mind,’ Ross said, taking off his signature flat cap, ‘but we saw your car on the drive . . .’

  Melissa forced a smile, aware of her three quiet children behind her. ‘It’s fine. I wanted to say thanks for looking after the kids last night anyway.’ Her smile wavered and she felt the tears coming.

  ‘Oh, darling!’ Jackie said, pulling Melissa into her arms. ‘We’re all here for you,’ she murmured in Melissa’s ear. ‘What a terrible thing to happen to you all. Here, sit down,’ she went on, leading Melissa into the kitchen. The kids all paused, shocked to see their mum crying after how robust she’d been just a moment ago.

  ‘Is it Dad?’ Lilly asked, face white.

  ‘No, Lilly,’ Jackie said quickly. ‘Sorry to make you think that. We just popped by with some sustenance,’ she said, gesturing to the basket. ‘Home-made brownies.’

  ‘Oh, yummy,’ Lilly said, taking the basket and pulling back the foil cover to peek inside.

  ‘You take extra, darling,’ Jackie said to Lilly. ‘We’re so pl
eased you got the lead in The Sound of Music. Your nan is so proud, honestly.’ Lilly looked slightly overwhelmed, which was unlike her; she usually loved all the fuss she got from people, especially her grandparents. ‘So good to have a small shimmer of light in the darkness with this happy news, isn’t it, Melissa?’

  ‘It is,’ Melissa said, stroking Lilly’s hair.

  ‘How are you all this morning?’ Ross asked, shooting the children sympathetic looks.

  Lilly pouted as Grace shrugged.

  ‘Not great,’ Lewis said.

  Jackie gave each of the children a hug. Grace looked uncomfortable, not being one for hugs with anyone but her parents. Lilly did too, though her discomfort was probably more to do with the fact she hadn’t put on any make-up or brushed her hair. Lewis was happy to receive a hug, though, not getting embarrassed like other boys his age might. Patrick called him a ‘proper hugger’. It was probably part of just how physical Lewis could be, whether it be on the football field as he smashed into opponents or with his family and friends as he pulled them into regular hugs. He’d been that way since a baby, rolling over earlier than Lilly and Grace, crawling and walking sooner than all his contemporaries.

  Their first son, Joel, was the opposite. In fact, it was their first hint of the muscle-wasting disease he would eventually be diagnosed with. He was late walking, and when he eventually seemed to figure it out, he kept falling over. Patrick seemed oblivious to it at first, often declaring how perfect Joel was, how advanced. ‘Look, he’s only three months and he can hold himself up!’ Bill and Rosemary had been the same, so proud of their first grandson, the latest addition to the ‘perfect’ Byatt bloodline. It made them blind to the signs Melissa saw so clearly. She’d finally booked in an appointment with their GP when Joel was two, and blood tests revealed that he had Duchenne muscular dystrophy, a serious condition that affects only boys and causes progressive muscle weakness. When the specialist consultant explained it was caused by a ‘mistake’ in one parent’s genetic make-up, Patrick had walked from the room, unable to quite take it in.