Silent Treatment

by David James

  'No, no, it's just that I have something to show you,' she said hurriedly.

  She looked up at the man and his newspaper, he seemed to be reading it avidly, but she thought that could just be a cover so he could observe her.

  She leant forward and opened her bag onto the table, laying out the children's journals.

  She immediately found herself looking around the pub again, suspicious of everybody she could see; the newspaper moved slightly and she caught a brief glimpse of the person behind it. He looked perfectly ordinary, almost too ordinary. If you wanted to go spy on someone, that is exactly what you would want to look like, she thought.

  Ben had no idea what he was being shown. But looking at the expression on Sarah's face he could see that it was important.

  Sarah could see his look of puzzlement and taking a deep breath she decided to tell him what he was looking at.

  'When you read all the reports that the children haven't been speaking, it's true,' she said.

  Ben looked disappointed.

  Sarah could see his deflated demeanour and felt that she should re-ignite his enthusiasm.

  'But they have been communicating.' She leaned forward until she was close to Ben and in a whispered and deliberately conspiratorial voice she said 'They have been writing things down in journals.'

  Ben looked at her face and then at what he now realised were the journals on the table.

  'What!' said Ben in far too loud a voice. Several people looked up from their phones and papers.

  Ben lowered his voice considerably and said in a voice matching Sarah's 'What have they been saying? Anything about how they appeared. Have you got their names?' He was finding it difficult not to shout out his excitement.

  'Well, not exactly,' said Sarah, 'we do have some names for them, but I'll leave it to you to decide if they are real or not. I think it's best if you have a look for yourself,' and with that she passed the journals across the table to him.

  Ben held the journals as if they were some ancient artefact or long lost manuscript. In journalistic terms this was the holy grail of stories.

  With due reverence Ben started to read the first page.

  'I don't think I can stress enough that these are confidential. I shouldn't really be letting you look at them at all,' said Sarah.

  If she had meant to turn his interest up to ten then she had managed it. Every journalistic fibre in his body was now tingling. He slowly read the pages, attempting to memorise as much as he could. He was sure Sarah wasn't going to let him leave the pub with them.

  Eventually he turned the last page and like finding that the final pages of a novel had been removed, let out a deflated sigh. There were no smoking guns, no revelations that he could take to the world. There was still so much more to learn about the children. But at least he had names now. Maybe not real ones, but it still personalised them.

  And most important, he knew he was looking at something that no other journalist had seen.

  He looked at Sarah and said 'Oh, I am sorry, do you want another drink?'

  Sarah declined, she wanted to keep her head clear for what she hoped was about to follow.

  She was glad to see his enthusiasm, she began to think that she had picked the right person to help her and the children.

  'Why do you think they agree to write them?' said Ben.

  Ben was already dropping into the mode of an investigative journalist. It was exactly what Sarah wanted to hear from him.

  'My best guess, and there are intimations in the journals, is that they feel in control if they write things down. Rather than if they are talking.'

  'Maybe if they were talking to you, they might let something slip?'

  'Exactly Ben.'

  'So, this way they can keep some measure of control over what you learn about them,' said Ben, 'and I think control is something Nathan likes.'

  She was impressed how quickly Ben had picked up on Nathan's character. But it still felt strange talking about Nathan outside of the institute.

  Ben looked across at her and said 'Where do we go from here then?'

  It was exactly what Sarah had hoped he would say.

  Sarah leant forward until she was only a foot away from Ben's ear and said 'I think that where they appeared is very important. I'm not sure in what way yet. But I think we should learn more.'

  Ben liked the use of the word “we”.

  'I'm not sure I picked that up from the journals,' said Ben.

  Sarah suddenly remembered that he wasn't privy to all the information. He couldn’t know about the sessions with the children. She didn't feel comfortable telling him everything. At least not yet.

  She spoke carefully as she said 'The journals aren't the only thing we have been doing to treat them. There are other avenues that we have explored.'

  'And that has led you to your conclusion?' said Ben. Only slightly disappointed that she was clearly keeping something back. If he could gain her confidence then he was sure she would tell him the rest.

  Sarah nodded. 'And that is why I would like you to go to the place where they appeared and you know, ask around. Like you journalists do.'

  Ben was bordering on ecstatic now and tried and failed to reign in his enthusiasm.

  'Sounds intriguing. When would you like me to go?'

  Sarah leant forward again and said in a low voice 'Soon as you can. But you must be careful, don't mention the institute or me.'

  Ben sat back, slightly affronted. 'I can do subtle when necessary.'

  'It is necessary,' said Sarah.

  Ben recognised the serious expression on Sarah's face. He felt like they were back at university in one of their seminars. And he was being told off, again.

  He tried to match her seriousness and said 'I won't even tell them I'm a journalist when I get there.'

  Sarah felt reassured. 'Good idea,' she said, nodding.

  She reached inside her bag and produced a card.

  'It's got my personal email address on it. Just in case you forget it. If you could let me know how you are getting along, I'd appreciate it,' said Sarah.

  As she handed it to Ben she kept hold of one end just long enough to say 'Please don't contact me at the institute. I'm sure you understand.'

  'Of course,' said Ben.

  Sarah suddenly felt exhausted, it had gone as well as she could have hoped for, but now she longed for the solitude of her own house and her father’s study.

  ‘Do you mind if I call it a day?' said Sarah as she picked up the journals and placed them back in her bag.

  ‘Of course,’ said Ben, who still had half a pint.

  'It’s been nice seeing you again Sarah. I'll be in touch.'

  'It was good to see you again Ben, I'll look forward to it.'

  Both were very satisfied that they had achieved what they had aimed to do. And both, if they were honest, a little bit pleased with themselves that they had managed to coerce the other into doing exactly what they had wanted them to do.

  As Sarah walked towards the door, she managed to look across at the man that had been staring across at them all evening. She was now more convinced than ever that he had been observing them. She longed to get back to the sanctuary of her father’s house.

  Ben was finding it difficult to contain his excitement, he kept nervously taking drinks from his glass and looking around the pub. It was at times like these when he wished he still smoked. He downed the last of his drink quickly and left the pub. He had a lot of preparation to do and he wanted to get started straight away.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Sarah left the pub and after looking over her shoulder to check that she hadn’t been followed by the man that had been staring so suspiciously at her in the pub, clambered in her car and set off quickly.

  She kept glancing in her mirror, but as she pulled in at her house she was pretty sure the man from the pub hadn’t followed her. Unless of course he had followed her, but was waiting for her to get home and go to sleep.

&nb
sp; She slammed the front door behind her and proceeded to apply every lock that she had available. Her father had originally been very relaxed about home security; happily leaving the door unlocked for days at a time. But towards the end she had noticed that slowly but surely locks had begun to appear on the front door. She was now glad of his late conversion to security as she turned the final lock on the door.

  The feeling of being followed had taken the edge off the positive feeling she had after meeting Ben. She was happy that it had worked out exactly as she had hoped and she wondered how soon Ben would be leaving for the village.

  Sarah awoke from a restless sleep. As she looked around the room it was clear that she must have got up at some point, it was just that these new pills left her mind so confused. But at least she had slept for some time at least. But she didn’t feel refreshed at all.

  As she went about her routines, she couldn't help thinking about the previous evening with Ben. Knowing that she had someone else fighting in her corner, however unwittingly, made her feel that she wasn't alone. She knew she should be counting Helen, John and the director as being on her side as well. But she didn't feel she could entirely rely on them.

  Sarah hardly noticed the journey to work and was almost oblivious of the media throng as she pulled the car up at the institute. She delivered the journals to the director as per normal. Thankfully he was on a phone call at the time and she just put them down on his desk and left. She wasn’t in the mood for an interrogation from the director.

  Sarah found it difficult to concentrate on her normal chores and she was almost glad when she realised that she had to attend a meeting for most of the day. It wasn't the sort of meeting that she was expected to contribute to. She was only expected to listen, which suited her fine. She knew the pressure was still on, but she knew she had an ally in Ben. Maybe he was already at the village. She hoped that he would tell her before he went, but she felt a moment of unease as she realised that they hadn't made any formal arrangements for him to contact her. It hadn't seemed necessary when they were talking yesterday evening. But she began to regret not arranging anything.

  The journals duly arrived back from the director and she worked out she would just about have time to drop them off with Gary and the children before her meeting started.

  By the time she returned, almost everyone had left to go to the meeting. She knew that she would be late and would be sneaking in at the back.

  Despite her sleep the night before, she found her mind wandering as the various meetings proceeded. It all seemed to be high level stuff; way above her pay grade. But the institute liked to keep their staff informed. Well, informed about the things they wanted the staff to know. There was some mention of the media camped outside the institute, but no suggestion that they were going to do anything about it. Sarah felt as if she was back at university clock watching.

  Eventually after what seemed like an eternity of bureaucratic language, she looked at her watch, again, and finally they were released from the room. People burst out of the room like champagne emerging from a bottle. Not for the first time, Sarah approached Gary's room desperately hoping that the children had entered something in the journals.

  Gary looked pleased as she approached.

  'Think they were scribbling away last time I looked Sarah,' he said.

  Sarah couldn't hide her relief. 'I know I'm a bit early.'

  'No problem, I'll go and get them for you.'

  Gary returned a few minutes later and handed her the journals.

  'Good reading I hope,' he said.

  'We'll see,' said Sarah.

  What's next then? Do we get to go on a trip, like you do with your parents. Emily would like that, she's into all that nature stuff. The twins would like it as well. If they ever looked around them that is. Yeah, how about it? A little trip to get away from this place. You could play parent if you like. You already are sort of anyway aren’t you. It would be like the trips out you went on with your parents, you enjoyed them didn’t you.

  Somewhere exciting. Maybe a coach trip? Yeah, something like that. Gets us out of here for a bit anyway. How about it?

  Nathan

  Hi Sarah,

  You looked a bit tired today, hope everything is okay. If we could do anything to help then let us know.

  I really hope you come out of this okay, I really do.

  Anyway, can't wait to see what you come up with next!

  Oh, by the way, wouldn't expect anything much from the twins. You know how they get. I think they are in one of their moods. Trust me, you don't want to be around them when that happens. Best to avoid them. Much safer. Believe me.

  Must sign off now. Keep up the good work!!

  Emily

  xxxxx

  Sarah put down the journals and sat back on her sofa.

  “A trip?” He couldn't be serious could he?

  But he was right that she had enjoyed them when she was a child. The days out with her father and mother were some of her fondest memories.

  You could play parent if you like. You already are sort of anyway aren’t you.

  It was the clearest signal yet that they were starting to think as a family unit. What could be more natural than a family going out on a day trip together?

  Emily seemed to have recovered her cheeriness. All seemed to have been forgiven after her previous journal entry.

  Sarah felt pleased that the children seemed happier now. She almost felt like rewarding them, but could she really take them outside of the institute? And how exactly would she get them past the media?

  She shook her head. She was slightly annoyed at herself for even thinking it.

  But she did wonder if the children had become too used to the routine of the institute. Perhaps the place itself was beginning to stifle them and a change of scenery would lead to a breakthrough?

  She decided to distract herself from that thought by checking to see if Ben had contacted her.

  She checked her phone, again, and then her email. She was about to give up when a new email popped up.

  Hi Sarah,

  Well here I am!

  Sitting in an altogether not too shabby guest house. The people I have met have been nice and friendly, though I haven't got past just talking about the weather and such with them. So we will have to see when I start asking them about what we really want to talk to them about. I'm sure they will be fine.

  The room is okay, but the furniture gives me the creeps. There's a lamp shaped like what could be a dragon, or maybe a goat. It's hard to tell. But I'm sure the lamp gave me nightmares!

  What have you been up to? Anything from the children? Have they started chatting nonstop and I can come home now? Though I think I may have read about that somewhere if they had!

  Got a few ideas about where I want to go tomorrow. I don't want to really push the people here, not initially anyway.

  This might amuse you, I've come up with a cover story. Couldn't really say that I was a journalist – could lead to being run out of town with pitchforks!

  I told them I am writing a book. I know, I know, but it was the best I could come up with. Unfortunately, I hadn't thought it through all that much and when they asked me ’What's it about?’, a reasonable question, all I could come up with was ’village walks’. I didn't want to say cooking or anything like that, so that was what came out. So I have been invited to go on lots of walks, or rambles as they call them here. Accidentally, this could be really useful – it will let me wander around the village without looking suspicious.

  One problem is that mobile reception is, well, hit and miss would be a polite description. So best if we communicate through email for the moment. Though apparently there is a part of the village where it is better, so will give that a try.

  Anyway, must go now, time for dinner.

  Ben

  Sarah was relieved to hear from Ben, she even found herself smiling as she read his email. She immediately started to reply.

  Hi Ben,r />
  Glad to hear you are settled in, email is fine, I find it easier anyway, otherwise I forget what people have said!

  No, unfortunately the children haven't started talking nonstop.

  Sarah stopped typing for a moment, she wasn't sure how much she should tell Ben about the children. She was aware that she had to be careful what she told people outside of the institute. But it wasn't just that. She had begun to feel protective towards the children. The feeling had surprised her, but she could no longer deny it. Should she tell Ben about what had happened when they had recreated the village?

  She sat back in her chair and sighed slightly. If she couldn't trust him, was there any point in him being there?

  She pushed herself forward and began to type quickly.

  I'm relieved that you have found the village to your liking. We tried to recreate the village at the institute, we were hoping to elicit some sort of a reaction from them, maybe bring back memories of when they first arrived.

  It seemed to work! I was convinced that they were going to speak to me. Didn't manage that, but we certainly got a reaction. And that's the thing Ben, the reaction worried me. There seemed to be a look of fear as well as surprise in their faces. I’m glad you have found the village to your liking. But please be careful Ben.

  You probably think I'm being paranoid (who, me?) I'm sure, maybe it's nothing, but you didn't see their expressions.

  Anyway, good to hear from you, and let me know how things are going.

  Sarah.

  She read the email back to herself before sending it. She wondered if she should tidy it up before sending. But it was how she felt and she pressed send to stop herself spending half an hour rewriting it.

  As she looked at the journals piled beside her and her email she wondered if maybe this would be her life for a while – waiting for other people.

  She cooked herself a meal, ate it rather half-heartedly and settled down in front of the television, but she was too restless to settle. She looked through the window, but outside it looked dark and not very inviting. She stood up and headed towards her father’s study. It had become like a sort of refuge for her. No, it was more than that, when she locked herself away in that room she was almost transported to somewhere else. To a place far removed from the house; the institute and her present predicament; to a place where she expected her father to walk into the room at any moment. She turned the key and then closed the door behind her and the world outside the door faded away.