Silent Child(13)

“But that’s… that’s…” Jake rubbed his eyes as if in disbelief. “That’s evil. Who would do that to a child?”

“That’s what we hope to find out,” said DCI Stevenson. “Because whoever the monster is, he belongs in jail.”





7


When I was a child I had very different nightmares to the ones that plagued me as an adult. They were filled with narrow, labyrinth-like tunnels. As I walked, I’d follow a small dot of light leading the way. I really wanted to play with that dot of light because it looked appealing, all glowing and orange and sparkling. But as I walked on, the tunnel walls closed in. The bright glowing light started to dim. I’d become frantic, running for my life, no longer chasing the light, but being chased by some unknown thing. On and on I went, turning one corner and then the next, as the corridor became narrower and the ceiling lower. It squeezed closer until the walls touched my skin. Narrower and narrower it went until I was on my knees crawling through the dark.

I always woke just before I got stuck.

Being confined has been one of my greatest fears for as long as I could remember. It’s why I opened the cage for the school guinea pig to escape. It’s why I made Dad return the gift of a rabbit in a hutch. It’s why I leave the door open a crack when I have to wee in a public toilet.

The thought of Aiden stuck in some tiny room, chained like an animal… It awoke some savage maternal wildness inside me. I wanted to find whoever had done this to him and rip him apart tooth and claw, like the lioness I knew I could be.

The quote goes on about a woman scorned. Scorned. As if the jealousy of a lover could ever compete with the ferocity of a mother. I raked my fingers through my hair in that vomit-scented room and soaked up the rage that I would feed on to get me through the next few weeks.

“What are you doing to find this man?” I asked.

“We’re searching the area Aiden was found, and we’re canvassing for eyewitnesses. But… this is delicate, Emma, and you know why. We can’t do much without the press finding out. We only have to call in an eyewitness from that day and they will know something is going on. You’re going to need to prepare yourself for what’s coming.”

I let my head sink into my hands. Had I even felt joy yet? Had I allowed myself to be happy that Aiden was alive? Could I feel happy at this moment? Should I?

“Bastards,” Jake grumbled. “As if they didn’t do enough after the flood. Practically sent Emma’s parents into an early grave.”

“I need to ring Sonya and Peter,” I said. “They’re Aiden’s grandparents. They’ll need to see him, especially if this is going to turn into a shitshow of a media circus.”

Stevenson nodded. “I think that’s a good call. Aiden needs loving parents and grandparents around him now.”

Though the detective didn’t explicitly say it, I knew he was thinking it. He was hoping that Aiden would snap out of his fugue and talk to us. Solving this case would be a priority for the police right now, especially once the media started reporting on it. Beneath my growing baby, my empty stomach cramped.

“Can I see him again?” I asked.

“Of course.” Dr Schaffer smiled. “But first we should talk about what we need to do to help Aiden get better. This is a highly unusual case for which there is no real precedent. Aiden has been kept away from society for ten years and will need help integrating.”

“I understand,” I said, balling my dress up in my left fist.

“We feel it would be best to keep Aiden in hospital for a few days for observation. When he was first admitted, we were not aware of the situation, otherwise we would have kept Aiden in quarantine to prevent him picking up a bug he might not have developed an immunity to. But he has been seen by several nurses and a few visitors and appears to be fine. Still, we will need to discuss what vaccines he was given before his abduction and whether we need to give him any more before he can go home.”

I squeezed my dress, hating that my son needed this special treatment at all. “Of course.”

“Social services were contacted immediately and you’ll need to have a meeting with them, but I believe Aiden will need therapy… perhaps speech therapy to help him begin speaking again, and some physiotherapy for his leg. He’ll need to see a dentist too. Perhaps a nutritionist—”

“That’s a lot of people fussing over my son,” I said. “Look, I know all of this needs to be done. I want him to get better and I want him to be able to live a normal life, but all this will be too much for him. Don’t you think?”

Dr Schaffer sighed. “I do. I believe this is going to be a slow adjustment and a slow process. Not everything will happen at once. For one, I believe Aiden will need to see a specialist at York hospital physiotherapy unit, though we will need an x-ray first.” He paused. “There’s going to be a waiting list anyway. And maybe I can help you will his diet to begin with, and we can check on him in a few weeks. And another thing… Aiden has been declared dead. He has no identification, no passport.”

“I have his birth certificate,” I said.

“And a death certificate,” Dr Schaffer continued. “I’m no expert in these matters but I know it might be difficult at first. All of Aiden’s records show him as deceased and that will slow the whole process down. But what we’ll do is test his eyesight, hearing, and vitals in hospital. Then you can arrange for your own dentist, optician, and physiotherapist when the paperwork has come through.”