Silent Child(90)

When it’s done, Hugh twitches two or three times and then he goes still. His eyes aren’t the same as they were before. They don’t glitter or sparkle like eyes should.

And then I think about how lucky he is because he doesn’t have to remember anymore. All his thoughts are gone and he doesn’t have to think about the cage anymore.

There’s some blood on my shirt too. I take it off and mop up the blood on the floor. I pull Hugh into a corner and put my t-shirt over him because I don’t want to see his face anymore. I pull the keys from his pocket and unlock the door. I switch off the light and hurry out of the door up the steps. The further up the steps I go, the more afraid I feel. I drop the keys before I reach the top. The air is fresh and I take two big gulps of it, but I feel shaky.

It’s dark and I don’t know where I’m going but I keep walking. There are leaves on the ground and lots of trees. It’s raining. I fall over twice.

I sing Hugh’s song.

Then I decide that I don’t want to remember anymore. Someone finds me. I know who I am, but I don’t want to tell them. I don’t want to talk to anyone, and I don’t want to remember. I want all my thoughts to go away like Hugh’s thoughts all went away.

I don’t want to remember.





45


I called her Gina after my mother. She had my eyes and Jake’s mouth, but we won’t talk about how she looks like Jake. The nurse brought Aiden in to see me and his new sister after the labour was over. I took my small, squirming little baby, swaddled in a soft blanket, and I gave her to my son to hold. The son who had frightened me, and who I’d thought was dangerous. The son the media called ‘feral’ and insinuated was uncivilised after his incarceration away from society. Aiden cradled her gently in his arms as though she was precious, delicate cargo. And she was. She was as perfect as Aiden had been when he was born. She was a fighter. We both were. We’d been through hell together and now we were both rewarded by her being here. She was alive and perfect and I was glad I’d fought for our future.

“Is it too soon for visitors?” DCI Stevenson poked his head around the corner.

“No. It’s fine,” I replied.

The last two hours felt like a lifetime ago. After Aiden had pointed out the fluid pooling on the ground, we’d struggled back up the steps and out into Rough Valley forest. The contractions were worse than before, which meant Aiden had to prop me up as we struggled through the trees. I shouted. I screamed. I yelled.

The police weren’t far away. They’d been coming for me, just as Stevenson had promised. He was the first to reach me. He hooked my arm over his shoulder and guided me through the dark wood, the light from his torch bouncing up and down like a scene from The Blair Witch Project. As we stumbled through the forest I told him about the underground bunker and the cage.

“I think it’s Hugh,” I whispered. “Aiden won’t say but the… body has the same blond hair. I think it’s Hugh and he’s been dead this whole time.”

Stevenson had only nodded.

He didn’t understand. Hugh being dead this whole time meant that I had been afraid of a ghost. Aiden’s kidnapper was a monster. A spectre. Though once very real, even in death Hugh had turned my life upside down to the point where I’d even suspected my own son of siding with his kidnapper. I’d become my own worst enemy, my paranoia seeking out danger in every corner whilst blinding me to the true threat: my husband.

Now, with the bright hospital lights overhead, Stevenson bobbed his head up and down and cooed at my baby. The smile on his face was genuine, and I was pleased with us all for surviving this long, arduous journey.

“How’s Rob?” I asked.

“Stable, they say,” he answered. “We got to him in the nick of time, I reckon.”

“And Josie?”

“She was tied up to her bed with a gag over her mouth. She’s shaken up, but she’s given us a statement about Jake. He dragged her up there and tied her up, but aside from a few bruises she hasn’t been hurt.”

I nodded. Aiden carried Gina to the other side of the room and sat down in the visitor’s chair.

“Jake?”

“Deceased.”

I nodded. I wasn’t happy about it. I wouldn’t be dancing over his grave or breaking out the champagne, but I was relieved, and that relief lifted a heavy weight from my heart. It was over. Or, at least, it was almost over.

“And the bunker?”

“There’s not much we can do at night. Forensics will go in first thing in the morning. We’ll need Aiden to make a statement. Is he… is he talking?”

“A little.”

DCI Stevenson rocked back on his heels, awkwardly. “That’s good.”

“There’s one other thing,” I said.

“What is it?” Stevenson asked, frowning.

*

I knew that one day Aiden would want to tell his story. Some stories are told from the beginning and they don’t stop until the final word. Some stories start at the end or the middle and they show you the beginning. I knew that Aiden’s story would take a lifetime to tell, but we had the rest of our lives to explore it. In the week that followed Gina’s birth (not Jake’s death, not the discovery of Hugh or Rob’s assault; it was Gina’s birth, the start of life) Aiden revealed a tiny island in the midst of an ocean. The glimpse he showed me was enough for the time being. I knew he would show me the rest when he was ready.