Broken Silence: A tense psychological thriller

by Fran McDonnell

  Isobel gestured to the leaflets. “Thanks for these.”

  “I hope your friend’s daughter finds her way through.”

  Isobel looked into her sad eyes. “Me too. At least we know what affected her now. I think before she enlightened us, everyone thought she was just depressed and agoraphobic.”

  “I know. So often people see a change in behaviour such as you’ve described but there can be other changes like self-harming or suicidal thoughts. The family may see the behaviour change and think that is the problem and don’t realise that those behaviours have been triggered by an event. They don’t realise what the woman is going through.”

  “A private hell.”

  “Yes, a silent hell.”

  Fiona seemed pensive but offered nothing more.

  Isobel said goodbye and walked back to her car. She couldn’t help feeling that something she had said had caused Fiona to be uneasy.

  In her car, she rang Rebecca. “Hi, how are you doing?”

  “Not too bad.”

  “Are you at home? I was going to pop over for a few minutes.”

  “Do. I’ll put the kettle on.”

  Isobel drove past Mary Immaculate College to Rebecca’s house near the Country Club. As she pulled up outside, the door opened and Rebecca came out onto the drive.

  She hugged Isobel. “Emer’s here. She talked to Yvonne an hour ago. Thanks so much, Isobel. I feel at last as if there’s a chance instead of just floundering in the dark.”

  Rebecca escorted Isobel into the kitchen. Emer was sitting at the table. Isobel joined her as Rebecca busied herself making tea.

  “How are you this morning, Emer?”

  “Better than I was.” Emer grimaced. “Mind you, that wouldn’t be hard.” She took a deep breath. “Ben and I chatted last night. I was able to stay in bed beside him. I didn’t sleep great. I woke with a few nightmares, but we stayed in the same room. Ben says he doesn’t mind me waking him.” Her eyes filled with tears. “It is better having someone there.”

  Isobel could hear Rebecca’s intake of breath. She reached out and touched Emer’s arm. “You’re doing so well. Any time you want to talk to me, you’re welcome to give me a call.” She pulled the folder from her handbag and set it on the table. “I also went today and got this information for you. This may not be the time, or it may not be what you want to do, but I want you to know that there are specialists out there who can help you. I had a look at the information and there’s a sheet outlining many of the ways you were affected. I thought it might help to know that others have been through what you have and have had symptoms like yours.”

  Emer looked at the folder on the table but made no move to touch it.

  Isobel stayed very still.

  Emer looked up. “I spoke to Yvonne today.”

  “I’m glad.”

  Emer nodded. “She understands about Rachel and Barry. I don’t want anything to happen to them.”

  “You did the right thing.”

  “Yvonne talked about a woman she knows from basketball who has become like me.”

  Isobel raised an eyebrow.

  “She doesn’t go out, she doesn’t work, she’s got really thin and well …”

  Isobel waited.

  “Do you think something like what happened to me could have happened to her?” Emer looked down.

  Isobel waited a few seconds before answering. “It could have, but she could have the same reactions to a different stress or trauma in her life.”

  Emer nodded, eyes downcast. She lifted her head. “Will you talk to her?”

  Isobel felt her heart still. “She may not want to talk and even if she does she may not want to talk to me.”

  Emer frowned.

  “But, of course, if she wants to talk to me, I’ll talk to her. But, Emer, her situation may not be the same as yours.”

  “She’s been like she is much longer than me, about nine months.”

  “She may not want to talk to anyone. You know what that’s like.”

  “Yvonne can see the change in me, and she thought that maybe that would persuade this woman to talk to someone.”

  Isobel nodded. “That’s possible.”

  “She may want to talk to you because you helped me. The change in me might give her confidence.”

  “If she wants to talk to me, I’ll meet her. But if she needs ongoing help I can’t really do that. I’m not back at work yet.”

  Emer nodded towards the leaflets. “But you can recommend someone.”

  “Yes.”

  “What about tonight? If she agrees to talk it’s better to do it immediately before she can change her mind.”

  “OK, if she wants to talk tonight is fine.” Isobel glanced at her watch. It was one o’clock. “I had better go. I have to meet someone.”

  “I was going to give you some lunch,” Rebecca said.

  “Sorry. Another time. I’ve got an appointment.” Isobel turned to Emer. “I’m glad that things have moved forward for you, Emer.” She stood up to leave.

  Emer stood also and reached out to hug her. As they embraced, she whispered, “Thank you.”

  Chapter 6

  Isobel sat in the doctor’s surgery looking, not at the television, but at the blank wall. She consciously took deep breaths and did her best to stay calm. In less than an hour the doctor would tell her what she thought of the lump she had found. The last time, her life had changed radically in the space a few hours. It had been dizzying to go from thinking you were OK to dealing with cancer in such a short space of time. But people faced this every day. Isobel wondered if she had the strength again. Even as she wondered that, she prayed that she wouldn’t have to find out.

  “Isobel McKenzie.”

  Ten minutes later the doctor was saying, “It’s probably best if you get it assessed in Breast Check.”

  Isobel sat into the car. Probably she should have phoned them first but she had hoped that it wouldn’t be necessary, silly really. She felt overwhelmed about what she might be facing. No doubt Emer felt the same. She inhaled deeply. Everyone had challenges.

  She dialled the number.

  The answer machine reeled off its message and bleeped.

  “Hi, this is Isobel McKenzie. I was diagnosed with breast cancer eighteen months ago and I’ve found a lump on the other side. The GP thinks that you should look at it. Please let me know when you can see me.” She left her number.

  She breathed out. Another step. Things were bad but she knew she was doing the right thing. Now it was waiting – waiting for the call, waiting for an appointment, waiting for the answer. Waiting, waiting, waiting. This time there was a difference. The first time around she had been impatient to know, impatient for answers. But when they came everything had crashed. Now Isobel realised that while she didn’t want to wait indefinitely, if the news was bad then these would be the last good days, free days, for a long time. In a strange way she wanted to savour them, just in case.

  Isobel drove home and had some lunch sitting out in her garden. She was doing some weeding when the phone rang.

  “Hi, Isobel, this is Yvonne, Emer’s sister. I know she asked you today about speaking to a friend of mine. Her name is Sarah. Nothing would do Emer but that I persuade her to talk to you. Well, I did – she says she could talk to you tonight. Would eight o’clock work for you?”

  “Yes. That is fine.”

  “Great. I could meet you at the Annacotty Arms Hotel Hotel, in the car park. You can leave your car there and I’ll drive you over to Sarah’s. She lives in the Castletroy area.”

  “That would be good.”

  “See you in the car park at a quarter to eight? I’ll be in a red Qashqai near the front door of the hotel.”

  “See you then, Yvonne.”

  Ten minutes later the phone rang again and Isobel thought it was Yvonne ringing to change the arrangements.

  “Hello, this is Jenny, from Breast Check, returning your call.”

  Isobel stood up slowly
from weeding the onions. “Hi, Jenny. Thanks for getting back to me so soon.”

  “Isobel, I’ve spoken to your consultant and we can squeeze you in for an assessment on Friday morning at ten thirty.”

  Isobel took a deep breath. “That’s fine.”

  “How have you been doing?”

  “I was doing well until I found the lump.”

  “We’ll check everything out on Friday.”

  “See you then.”

  Isobel took a few deep breaths. She could feel her stomach turning over. At least Friday wasn’t too long to wait, and she would be busy tonight.

  Yvonne had the same blonde hair as Emer and a similar face.

  Isobel climbed into the passenger seat and pulled on her seatbelt.

  Yvonne waited until she was settled and then said, “Thanks for what you’ve done for Emer. At least she’s talking to us now and we’ve some idea of why she is the way she is. It’s been so scary. She changed so much – and overnight. She wouldn’t talk to any of us, and we didn’t know how to help her. Of course, it all makes sense now.”

  Isobel opened her mouth, but Yvonne forestalled her.

  “I know it’s not over for her but at least we can support her now.”

  Isobel closed her mouth and nodded.

  “She thinks you can do the same for Sarah.”

  “Your friend?”

  “Well, she’s not exactly my friend.”

  Isobel raised her eyebrows.

  “I met her because her son and mine both play for the same team. I used to see her at the practices and sometimes we chatted. Then she just stopped coming. Instead her husband or sister came. I thought she might be sick, and I asked about her. She was going through something, and I think they were glad to have someone to talk to. Sarah went from being a happy and outgoing woman to being reclusive, anxious and depressed. Emer is convinced that you can get her to talk to you as she did. When Emer stopped going out, I used to talk to her about Sarah. Sarah’s family were trying to get her to do yoga and meditation and,” Yvonne smiled, “I used to try to get Emer to do them too, hoping they would help. I didn’t understand what had happened and how upset …” she cleared her throat, “how traumatised she was.”

  “Of course you didn’t. How could you?” Isobel reassured her gently.

  Yvonne started the car and drove out of the carpark.

  “And, of course, on top of that Emer is fearful that Rachel and Barry won’t be safe.”

  “I know. We will make sure they are.”

  They travelled in silence for a bit then Isobel said, “I may not be able to help Sarah at all.”

  “I know. Just do your best. I think Sarah’s family are like us, desperate for anything that might help, willing to try anything.”

  Yvonne drove past one of the entrance gates to the University of Limerick. Before they reached the second one, she turned into an estate on the opposite side of the road. The houses were predominantly family-owned despite their proximity to the campus. Sarah lived in the second row of houses. Yvonne pulled into the driveway behind a car.

  They got out and, as they approached the door, it opened. A man stood waiting. Isobel realised that Yvonne was right. This man had been watching, eager to see if any help could be had. Isobel sucked in her lips and tried to slow her heart. Yvonne had said that she could only do her best – that was true, that was all she could do.

  “Come in, come in! You must be Isobel. I’m Steve.” He shook her hand with both of his. “Sarah is in the front room waiting for you.” He ushered them inside. “Come to the kitchen, Yvonne, and I’ll make some tea. Would you like me to bring you some, Isobel?”

  “No, thank you.”

  Steve gestured to the closed door in the hall.

  Isobel nodded and went in, closing the door behind her.

  Sarah was lying on the couch. She started when Isobel entered. Her hair was a deep auburn and she had it pulled into an untidy knot on her head. Her skin was very white, no doubt in the sun prone to freckles but it looked as if it hadn’t seen the sun for a long time. She shifted on the couch. The blanket over her legs showed them to be very thin. Her hands holding on to the blanket were very white and almost old-looking.

  Her eyes were brown and appeared huge in her face. They were full of fear.

  After she had closed the door Isobel stood still, letting Sarah look her over and get used to her. After a few seconds Sarah took a deep breath. Two armchairs were facing the couch and Isobel moved quietly and with minimal fuss to one and sat down.

  For a few moments there was silence.

  “Hello, Sarah. My name is Isobel.”

  Sarah looked at her from beneath her lashes.

  Isobel relaxed back in the chair and took some slow deep breaths, expelling the air audibly. She maintained a soft focus on Sarah and noticed that her breathing fell into time with her own.

  Isobel racked her brain. She had no idea what had been going on in Sarah’s life or what had triggered her withdrawal. She waited for some inspiration as to how to begin.

  In the end it was Sarah who opened the discussion.

  “So you were able to help Emer?”

  Isobel took a breath and then said, “Well, Emer told me what had happened to her, and I think that helped her.”

  “I told someone what happened to me.”

  “You did?” Isobel didn’t want to ask her directly what had happened.

  “Yes.”

  “Did it help?”

  “No. It made things worse, just like he said.”

  “Like who said, Sarah?”

  Sarah plucked at her blanket. “The man who … the man who attacked me.”

  Isobel gasped and then coughed to disguise it. “A man attacked you? That must have been very scary.”

  “He said that if I told anyone, something bad would happen to my children.”

  Isobel frowned. “Emer’s attacker said that too.”

  “Why did she talk to you? Was she not afraid?”

  Isobel pressed her lips together and wondered what to say. “Something happened to me yesterday and it reminded Emer of what she had gone through, and she thought I might understand.”

  Sarah frowned.

  Isobel waited.

  “I tried to commit suicide.” Sarah stared at her, watching for a reaction.

  “I’m sorry things were so bad for you.”

  “My husband found me. He rang for an ambulance. While we were waiting I told him what had happened. Well, I told him a little bit. Then a photo of my kids came in the post with a warning reminding me not to say anything or they would be in danger.”

  Isobel went very still.

  Sarah plucked at the blanket with her hands.

  Isobel could feel her mind racing. A woman attacked, threatening her children, this sounded like the same perpetrator.

  “Was there any clue as to who had sent you the photograph?”

  “No.”

  “Was the message handwritten?”

  “No. Capitals.”

  “Do you still have it?”

  “No, I burned it.” Sarah looked down at the blanket. She shivered. “I wanted to die.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t.”

  Sarah looked at her. “I’m no good to them.” Her eyes filled with tears. “They’re worried about me. I’m making them unhappy. I’ve nothing to give them.”

  “You’re their mother, the most important person in the world to them.”

  Sarah continued to pluck at the blanket.

  “Emer only told the people close to her, that’s all,” Isobel said. “She told them enough so they could understand her and support her and enough to protect the children.”

  Sarah maintained eye contact with Isobel. “After I told Steve, I did feel better. I thought that I could get my life back. I started to go out. I tried to do some of the things that I used to, like collecting the kids from school and taking them to their activities. I started to feel as if I could have a life, that I had a
future, and then the photograph came in the post and I stopped. I was terrified again.”

  Isobel took a slow breath. “That’s understandable.”

  Sarah’s eyes locked on Isobel. They were full of terror and pain. She took a number of ragged shallow breaths.

  “Just take a deep breath,” Isobel coaxed.

  Sarah did that, then tried to speak again. “He … he … he …”

  Isobel took slow noisy breaths, using them to coach Sarah.

  Sarah copied her, then said, “The man, he raped me.” She took some more rapid breaths.

  “Take a deep breath, Sarah. That’s it. You’re doing fine.” Isobel waited, then said, “So … he raped you.”

  “Yes, and …” Again, Sarah’s breathing was shallow and ragged. “And he … and he … he … he …”

  “Did he strangle you?”

  Sarah nodded, eyes fixed on Isobel as if she were a lifeline. “Yes, he strangled me … twice.” It was a whisper. Her shoulders sagged.

  “You’ve been so brave to tell me, Sarah.”

  Sarah’s face crumpled and her eyes welled up. Isobel could feel her own face wet with tears and her heart contracting with pain for what this woman had endured.

  “I thought I was going to die.” Sarah put her hands over her eyes. “I remember every time I try to sleep …” Tears were trickling out under her hands. “I thought I would never see my kids again or my husband.” The tears were increasing and with them the sobs.

  Isobel moved and sat on the floor beside her. She kept her voice soft and gentle and murmured words of comfort and encouragement. As Sarah’s sobs deepened Isobel gently touched her shoulder.

  “Let it all out.”

  As Sarah cried Isobel felt anxiety in the pit of her stomach. Sarah’s description of what had happened to her had some startling similarities to Emer’s. Her mind shied away from the natural conclusion of those thoughts. She shook herself – now wasn’t the time for speculating. She refocused her mind on the woman before her.

  Gradually Sarah’s sobs eased and eventually ceased. She pushed herself up on the couch and sat, leaning her head back, eyes closed.

  Isobel could feel a film of sweat on her own face. She knew that she needed to ask a few questions and hoped that Sarah could cope. She went back to her seat.