Wall of Silence

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Wall of Silence Page 12

by Buchanan, Tracy


  ‘Just reading in her room,’ Lilly said. ‘It’s hard to tell with Grace.’

  ‘I know Grace acts older sometimes,’ Melissa said carefully as they stepped off the main path and trod over branches and leaves, searching for Grace’s distinctive blonde hair, ‘but she’s still very young. This is difficult for you guys – imagine how hard it must be for her.’

  The twins glanced at each other and Melissa could see they were doing that ‘twin’ thing where they somehow communicated without saying a word.

  ‘We have to think about Grace,’ Melissa continued, ‘the impact this is having on her little mind. That’s probably why she’s run off! We have to think about what’s right for her, for all of us.’

  ‘No, Mum,’ Lilly said. ‘Grace probably ran off because you grilled her on the way to the hospital earlier.’

  Melissa frowned. ‘She told you about that?’

  The twins nodded. Melissa came to a stop and grabbed both their hands. ‘You understand why I’m trying to find out, though, don’t you? Surely it’s better I know so I can help you before they all find out,’ she said, gesturing to the people searching in the distance. ‘You heard what they said in there just now. This could easily spiral out of control. If we don’t get a grasp on this, then people like Andrew Blake and Tommy Mileham will.’

  Lewis’s dark eyes sparked with fear. But then he straightened his shoulders. ‘We’ve got it under control, Mum. We hid the knife, didn’t we?’

  Melissa felt her legs go weak. ‘So you did definitely hide the knife, then?’ It was the first time he’d properly confirmed it.

  Lilly closed her eyes as Lewis sighed. ‘Yeah,’ he said in a resigned voice.

  ‘Where did you hide it?’ Melissa asked.

  ‘Best you don’t know,’ Lewis said.

  ‘Really? So a fifteen-year-old kid knows the best place to hide a knife that might incriminate him or his sisters in the stabbing of their father.’

  The determined look on Lewis’s face faltered.

  She grasped his arm, pulling him close. ‘When the police or any of these people find it, they’ll have their evidence, and I get this feeling you’d rather they didn’t have any evidence.’

  ‘But they haven’t found it yet,’ Lilly said. ‘Even after searching the whole house.’

  ‘So it’s in the house still?’ Lilly’s cheeks flushed and Melissa shook her head. ‘Jesus, you two, are you mad? The police are there right now, probably searching this very minute in case they missed something.’

  ‘Fine,’ Lewis said. ‘I’ll go and get it and hide it somewhere else.’

  ‘How are you going to do that, Lewis?’ Melissa said. ‘There’s a police officer posted at the front door twenty-four hours a day.’

  He shrugged. ‘I’ll figure it out.’ He stalked off ahead of her. ‘Come on, we have to find Grace.’

  Melissa ran after him and grabbed his arm, making him turn to her. ‘You do nothing, okay, Lewis? Do not mess this up more than it is already.’

  Two people approached from the trees then: Eamon Piper with his son, Harvey. They were both short and stocky, with a shock of ash-blond hair and ruddy cheeks.

  Melissa let go of Lewis’s arm.

  Harvey narrowed his eyes at Lewis as Lilly looked him up and down.

  Lewis and Harvey had had an altercation the year before, which had resulted in Melissa and Patrick being called into school. Lewis had explained that Harvey had insulted Lilly on social media. Lewis’s sisters were his soft spot. Say anything bad about them and you were in trouble. Everyone knew that. When Melissa got home, she found the comment Harvey had made on a Snapchat post of Lilly blowing a kiss to the camera, her full lips painted bright pink. #Fakeasfuck was what he’d written, and Melissa was secretly proud her son had stuck up for his sister like that. Ever since then, it had been awkward between the two families.

  ‘We just searched the area by the courtyard,’ Eamon said. ‘No sign. I’m sure Grace’ll be fine.’

  ‘I hope so,’ Melissa said. ‘We really appreciate you helping us find her, don’t we, guys?’ she said, elbowing the twins.

  ‘Yeah,’ Lewis mumbled, not meeting Harvey’s eyes. Lilly didn’t say anything, just crossed her arms and scowled into the distance.

  ‘You been that way?’ Eamon asked, gesturing towards the patch of forest they’d just covered.

  Melissa nodded. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Right,’ Eamon said stiffly. ‘We’ll head to the east of the forest, then.’

  They walked off, Harvey glaring at Lewis as he passed them.

  ‘Come on,’ Melissa said. ‘Let’s find your sister.’

  As they walked through the forest, Melissa thought of the first evening walk she’d shared with Patrick, a few weeks after he’d moved to Forest Grove as a teenager and they’d had that first encounter where Ryan had fought him. This time, Patrick had sought Melissa out at her home. She was shocked to see him approach from the forest. After all, they’d already been sharing the same classroom at school for a number of weeks and he hadn’t said a word to her. But he told her later he had already been quietly falling for her, mesmerised not just by her long blonde hair and naturally beautiful face but also by the fact that she wasn’t like the other girls at school, who seemed to fall all over him. Instead of MTV and make-up, she was more into nature and art.

  As he walked towards the cottage, she was outside, reading an old book as her mother hung out some washing on a line strung between two pines. Her mother had frowned when she saw him and told Melissa to get indoors. Melissa knew why. She didn’t want anyone to see the bruise on Melissa’s cheek. She’d already made Melissa take a day off school for it to calm down.

  But Melissa didn’t want to hide away – not from Patrick Byatt, anyway. So she’d ignored her mum and waited for him.

  ‘Hello, Mrs Quail,’ Patrick said to her mum, always so polite. She must have looked so strange to him. His mother, Rosemary, was a conventionally pretty woman back then, with dark hair and eyes. But Melissa’s mum looked wild in comparison, with white hair to her waist, tattoos and a penchant for flicked-up eyeliner. She’d regarded Patrick through narrowed eyes that day, giving him the same look she would always give him: suspicion.

  ‘Can I take Melissa for a walk?’ Patrick had asked her.

  Melissa’s mother had hesitated a moment but then, to Melissa’s surprise, she agreed, no doubt clocking the pleading look in Melissa’s eyes.

  As they set off, Patrick’s dark eyes had alighted on Melissa’s bruise, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, they’d walked and walked, talking about the trees and school. Patrick seemed captivated by her, watching her talk, even brushing her blonde hair from her eyes. She thought for a moment they might kiss, but Patrick was the perfect gentleman, accompanying her home an hour later and watching as she let herself in.

  He came every week then, on a Sunday, and their walks grew longer.

  ‘Who’s that boy?’ Melissa’s dad would say.

  ‘Oh, he’s from a very rich family,’ her mother would exaggerate. ‘It wouldn’t harm to let Lissie be with him,’ she’d added with a wink, playing up to her husband’s greed. Looking back, Melissa thought her mother probably just wanted to see her daughter happy for once.

  Nothing happened beyond talking during those walks with Patrick, which surprised Melissa. She’d heard all about his ‘conquests’ at school. Kisses stolen in storeroom cupboards. Notes passed from girl to girl. They became a regular thing, those long walks, until Melissa found herself in Patrick’s kitchen in her nightdress in the middle of a dark night. Three months later, a week after Melissa’s mother died, they shared their first kiss under the oak tree.

  Melissa came to a stop now. ‘Of course! I bet Grace has gone to the oak tree and Grandma Quail’s bench.’

  The twins nodded in agreement and they quickened their steps until they came to the great oak. Its huge branches creaked in the early-evening breeze.

  Melissa saw a figure sitting there and
for a moment she thought of her mother as she’d been found the day she died.

  But it wasn’t her mother, it was Grace. They ran over to her and Melissa folded her into her arms, pressing her palm to her eyes in relief.

  Lewis and Lilly joined them and they all hugged each other.

  Melissa looked down at her children’s heads. Was Lilly right? Were her constant questions and demands to know the truth only making things worse? But that was all she could do, get the truth so she could protect the kids. There was nothing else to grasp at unless she decided to tell the police, and she just couldn’t consider that possibility; it literally felt like throwing her children to the lions. But her husband was lying in hospital with a stab wound, and surely she had a duty to find out who the hell had done that to him?

  The conflict between her different priorities was tearing her apart.

  ‘Well, look who we have here,’ a voice said. They all looked up to see the detectives watching them. Detective Crawford stepped forward, crouching down in front of Grace. ‘You gave us quite a fright, young lady.’

  Grace peered up at him with tearful eyes.

  ‘She’s been through a lot,’ Melissa said, stroking Grace’s hair.

  People started appearing from the trees now.

  ‘She’s here!’ someone shouted. ‘Grace is here.’

  ‘Can’t fault their enthusiasm, can you?’ Detective Crawford commented to his colleague as he looked at the gathering villagers. ‘I doubt anything gets past this lot. I’m starting to think the best assets we have in your husband’s case are the people of Forest Grove.’

  Melissa regarded all the familiar faces as they began to gather in the clearing. Friends and family, wide smiles of relief on their faces as they saw Grace. These were people she’d counted on all her life, but the detective was right. They were his best assets . . . and therefore, her biggest threat.

  She looked down at her children. If one of the kids had stabbed Patrick, these were the people she’d have to protect them from.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Forest Grove Facebook Chit Chat Group

  Friday 19th April, 2019

  9.05 p.m.

  Graham Cane

  Fat lot of good tonight’s search did, then. Though someone did manage to find an original jar from an Ashbridge sweetshop from 1870 which might be worth a few bob.

  Rebecca Feine

  We found Grace, though, didn’t we?

  Belinda Bell

  That was rather odd, you know, the way the girl disappeared like that. Anyway, the search was never going to be useful, let’s face it. I actually found the community meeting before the search more insightful. I have an instinct for these things and something just doesn’t smell quite right about it all.

  Graham Cane

  I know what Belinda means. It’s clear the police think whoever did this to Patrick knew him. And wasn’t it interesting that our local forest ranger didn’t participate in the search?

  Tommy Mileham

  I noticed Ryan Day’s absence too, Graham. What did you mean about the argument between Ryan and Patrick, Andrew Blake?

  Andrew Blake

  Renee from the chemist told me she heard the two of them arguing in the forest last month. She told the police when they came to chat to her the other day, but they didn’t seem too bothered.

  Debbie Lampard

  I can’t imagine Ryan hurting anyone.

  Eamon Piper

  Oh, come on! Rarely get a smile out of the man.

  Rebecca Feine

  Ah, that must mean he’s violent, then. An unsmiling assassin.

  Graham Cane

  Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, Rebecca. Ryan’s always been an odd one, skulking about in the forest. You should have seen him when he was a youngster, like a wolf, snarling at anyone walking their dogs in the forest.

  Belinda Bell

  Melissa was the same for a bit before she moved in with the Byatts. A regular little girl Tarzan.

  Andrew Blake

  Yeah, and she was proper close to Ryan when they were kids. I reckon Melissa knows more than she’s letting on, her body language was all off last night. I have a nose for these things. Probably my training.

  Kitty Fletcher

  Your ‘training’? Do you mean the six-week orienteering course you did, Andrew? The woman’s in shock, for God’s sake! Leave her be.

  Daphne Peterson

  Leave Ryan be too. We all know why you’re keen to point the finger at him. You’re still stewing that he made you look like a dick when you were drunk and climbed the oak last year. Totally disrespectful, considering what happened to Melissa’s mum there.

  Andrew Blake

  Stop bringing that up! I was trying to inspect it! And I had a bad knee, otherwise I’d have kicked his arse.

  Jackie Shillingford

  Come on, guys, the Byatts are going through a lot at the moment and last thing they need is everyone speculating and arguing. Andrea Cooper, I think this post needs to be removed.

  Andrea Cooper

  I won’t delete it, I believe in freedom of speech. But consider comments CLOSED!

  Chapter Nineteen

  Saturday 20th April, 2019

  7.45 a.m.

  Melissa woke the next morning with a sense of determination. After getting ready and checking her messages from Bill, who’d spent the night with Patrick, she went straight to the attic room, gently knocking on the door. There was a sleepy answer of ‘Yeah?’ from Lewis. She walked in to find him half awake, playing some game on his phone as the girls remained asleep.

  ‘Not sleeping well?’ she asked him.

  ‘When do I ever sleep well?’ Lewis replied with a sigh. He’d always struggled with sleep, right from an early age. They’d even gone to see a sleep expert about it and tried all sorts of remedies, but nothing seemed to work. He told her he was used to it now, and Melissa had got used to hearing him padding around in the night too. Now, as she looked at him, really looked at him, she could see he looked more exhausted than she’d ever seen him, his brown eyes bloodshot, his handsome face drawn.

  ‘It’s probably good the girls are sleeping, actually.’ She went to his bed and sat on it. ‘The knife,’ she asked quietly. ‘Where did you hide it?’

  He frowned. ‘Why?’

  ‘I’m going to hide it for you. Properly.’

  He placed his phone down, sitting up straight. ‘Really? Where?’

  ‘You don’t need to know. Just trust me when I say it’s a good place.’ She peered out at the trees. ‘I lived in that forest all my childhood, remember? You get to know the best hiding places.’

  Lewis looked unsure and she took his hand. ‘You have to let me help you. One thing I know for sure, you can’t leave it in the house.’

  ‘But you said there’s a police guard. How will you get in?’

  ‘I’ll deal with that.’

  Lewis swallowed, peering towards his sisters’ sleeping heads. ‘Alright. It’s under the sink, in that hidden bit beneath the built-in bins where we found that dead mouse last year after the place started to stink.’

  Melissa nodded. It was actually a pretty good hiding place. Good enough for the police not to find it yet, anyway . . . but if they decided to pull the cupboards out, they’d easily come across it.

  ‘So you’re confirming you hid it, then, Lewis?’ she asked her son.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Finally, you tell me something,’ she said. She took a deep breath, readying herself for the next question. ‘Was it you who did it?’

  Lewis scowled, turning away. ‘Not saying.’

  ‘Because maybe I’d understand, if you told me why.’ She grasped his shoulder to make him turn back. ‘We can figure it out, the two of us. We can—’

  He shoved her hand away. ‘Mum, I’m not saying, alright?’ he hissed.

  She suddenly felt the urge to slap him, then instantly felt awful. She wasn’t her dad! She got up and went to walk out but Lewis grabbed
her hand. She looked down at him. ‘Sorry for shouting, Mum. I know you’re trying to help, like, with the knife. Thanks.’

  ‘It doesn’t solve everything, though, you know. Your dad will still wake up and tell all.’

  ‘Or he might never wake up.’

  She looked at her son in shock. ‘How can you say it like that? This is your dad. The man who held you in his arms after you were born, the man who taught you how to ride your bike and curve a football. The man who was there for you when you broke your leg that time, even taking time off work to look after you.’ She grabbed his shoulders, shaking them. ‘Your dad, Lewis. Your dad!’

  ‘I know, Mum! You think I don’t know that?’

  ‘Then why don’t you care if he lives or dies?’

  ‘I do!’

  She noticed he was breathing heavily. He’d been diagnosed with asthma a few years back. It was rare for him to have an attack like this, but when he did, it always worried her.

  ‘Lewis, where’s your inhaler?’ she asked.

  He gestured to his bag, which was lying on the floor. She grabbed it, searching the pockets until she eventually found the inhaler. He took some quick spurts from it then leaned back against his pillow.

  Had she pushed him too far, just like she’d pushed Grace too far?

  ‘Oh, my darling boy,’ she said, drawing him into her arms.

  He sank against her. ‘Sorry, Mum,’ he mumbled.

  ‘I think you need to have a good sleep,’ she said to him. ‘It’s still early.’

  ‘You know I don’t do sleep, Mum.’ But as he said it, he yawned.

  ‘Come on,’ she said, pulling the duvet back so he could slide beneath it. She tucked the duvet around him like she used to when he was little and sat watching him for a few moments, stroking his tanned arm while he gradually began to fall asleep. She remembered doing the same when he was a toddler, marvelling at how different he was when he slept, all that pent-up energy at rest.

  Then she left the room and walked downstairs to find Rosemary in the kitchen already. She looked exhausted, dark circles under her brown eyes.

  ‘Any news from Bill?’ Melissa asked.

 

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