Silent Child(31)



“No, nothing like that. It’s about me and Aiden. I did something really stupid.”

He stopped pacing the hallway and moved closer to me instead. I noticed how his hands moved up, like he was contemplating reaching out to me, but then his arms dropped by his side. “What is it? It can’t be that bad. You never do anything stupid, Em. I bet it wasn’t as stupid as getting your mug photographed by a scummy paparazzi.”

I shook my head and backed away. “It’s worse.”

“Anyone for a cuppa?” Josie called, saving me from blurting everything out.

“Coming,” I called. “Come and sit down for a minute. You’ll feel better.”

“I want to know what’s going on.”

I chewed on my bottom lip and scratched at a patch of dry skin on my hand. The anxieties of the last few days were catching up with me. I was changing in a physical sense. The lack of sleep, the constant worrying, and the fact that I was so busy in the late stages of my pregnancy had brought nothing but dry skin and circles under my eyes. I’d even lost a little weight.

“Long time no see, Hartley.” Josie placed a mug of steaming tea onto the breakfast bar as we moved into the kitchen. “Are those grey hairs I see? And crow’s feet, just there?” She pointed at his eyes.

Rob swatted Josie’s hand away, but failed to hide his smile. “Yeah and that’s a new moustache hair, isn’t it?”

“Cheeky arsehole.” Josie rolled her eyes exaggeratedly when she turned to me.

I mouthed a ‘thank you’ for helping calm him down. But even still, when I swallowed my throat was dry. I was dreading telling him about the incident in the forest.

“They’re gonna think I did it, aren’t they.” Rob let out a long, slow, depressed sigh. “They’re going to think I somehow did this to my own son. That’s what they always think.”

“How could they? You’ve been in the army. You’ve got the strongest possible alibi there is,” I said. I had no idea he’d been worrying about this.

“I know that, but they don’t know it yet. They’ll think I’ve been sneaking out or something, or that I have some sick accomplice. They always think it’s the dad.” He sipped on his tea. “Fuck all this. I don’t want to think about it anymore. What did you have to tell me? Is it worse? Is it better? Have they caught the monster?”

“No, it’s not better or worse, really.” I set down my tea and told Rob about taking Aiden to the woods. Though I didn’t look at him directly, I was aware of his weight shifting as he fidgeted on his stool, aware of his back straightening in my peripheral vision.

There was silence when I finished talking.

“I lost control.” I placed my head in my hands.

“It’s all right, Em,” Josie soothed.

“No it’s not.” Rob set his mug down with an audible bang. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to do this? Why didn’t you phone me? You know what a fucking phone is, Emma, right?”

“Keep your voice down. Aiden is in the next room and the last thing he needs to hear is you ranting and swearing,” I said.

“Yeah, I know that, but I’m mad, aren’t I? I’m fuming because you took our son to do a bloody reconstruction of the day he staggered out of his ten-year captivity.”

“Everything moved so fast. They wanted to keep it as small as possible. They suggested I go by myself. I knew you’d refuse to stay away if I told you about it.”

“Oh, you knew, did you? That’s a pretty trick, reading someone’s mind. You’ll have to show it to me some day.”

I shook my head. Even after all this time he was still just as infuriating as ever. “Grow up, Rob.”

“Guys,” Josie intervened. “Remember what’s important. The kid in the other room watching a DVD. He’s all that matters.”

“Exactly,” Rob said. “And that’s why what you did was wrong, Emma. Don’t you see that?”

I knew when he got to his feet that I’d made a huge mistake choosing this particular moment to tell Rob about the events of the morning. He was too wired, too agitated. He was on the edge. I should have seen that.

“I’m sorry.”

But he’d stopped listening to me.

“I think I should take him home with me. It’s the best way. You’re a mess, Emma. You’re making terrible decisions. You tried to drag Aiden into the woods, for fuck’s sake. The reporters are outside your house. It makes sense.”

It was my turn to get to my feet. “Absolutely not. I’m not giving up so easily. He’s my son, he’s coming home—”

“And he’s not mine?” Rob’s eyes were wide and pleading. Little boy’s eyes. His presence was an intimidating one in the Barratt’s kitchen, but there was something of the child in him too. He’d always had an air of vulnerability about him.

“That’s not what I mean. I’m his mother—”

“And there it is. That’s what it all boils down to. The mother. I remember the first shitshow that came out in the press ten years ago, how every picture was all about you. The poor, distraught mother. Fathers aren’t allowed to grieve, are they? Not in the same way. They aren’t given the luxury of breaking down like a mother is. Mothers get all the rights and are still allowed to fuck up as much as they want.”

Sarah A. Denzil's Books