The Silent Ones: An absolutely gripping psychological thriller(31)

That’s in one hour’s time. I hope Tom gets back with Josh for then.





Twenty





2003





‘For goodness’ sake, I can’t hear myself think. Get that noisy little sod out from under my feet,’ Joan Voce snapped, pinching the top of her nose. ‘This headache is never going to go away in this heat if I don’t get some peace and quiet.’

‘You go and have a lie-down, love,’ Ray soothed, steering her to the bottom of the stairs. ‘I’ll bring you up a cuppa.’

He watched his wife’s slim figure as she climbed slowly upstairs. She was a striking woman even when she felt unwell, like today. Raven-black hair and creamy skin, with piercing green eyes.

Ray was under no illusion he was very lucky to have her. He knew he was the envy of all the men he worked with at the factory.

Joan was very nearly perfect, if she could only curb that temper of hers. That would just be the icing on the cake. Still, you couldn’t have everything, he supposed.

He walked into the kitchen and across to the sink to fill the kettle. The two girls were sitting quietly at the table. Juliet always had her nose in a book, and if keen gymnast Chloe wasn’t bending her body in all manner of strange shapes out in the back garden, she was sketching like she was doing today.

Sometimes Ray privately thought they’d have been better not having children at all. Joan hadn’t seemed that fussed after they got married, and Ray admitted it was he who had pushed for them. But he hadn’t realised just how much attention his wife needed. How she quickly wilted under pressure and couldn’t bear too much noise.

Of course, he’d never said as much to her.

Their two girls were now thirteen and fifteen and were quite grown up. Chloe had been the first, and Ray remembered how happy he’d felt that Joan adored her and bonded immediately.

She had wanted to stick with just the one child but eventually agreed it would be nice for Chloe to have a brother or sister. Ray had been so happy, he’d barely registered that Joan was noticeably less affectionate and maternal towards Juliet. Later, he wondered if it was because she had somehow felt steamrollered into the decision.

And then, out of the blue eight years later, baby Corey had come along. He’d just turned five now and was a little live wire who barely slept a wink. He lived his life in an almost constant state of activity, always doing, never resting… and you could never feed the lad enough, yet he was skinny as a rake.

It was too much for Joan, and she’d all but downed tools when it came to caring for the boy, so Ray and the girls had learned to pick up most of the slack, keeping Corey entertained and out of Joan’s hair.

Ray had lost many hours of sleep himself, trying to work out why it had never been like this with either of the girls when they were tiny. Could it be that he and Joan were just so much older and less able to cope now?

Then last year, Dr Rahman had finally diagnosed Corey with ADHD. Ray had felt a tremendous weight lift from his shoulders. At last they were able to explain why nothing seemed to work when it came to calming Corey down.

It wasn’t that they were bad parents or incompetent after all.

He and Joan had attended a course for parents of children with ADHD. It had covered the implications and how families might best support their child.

‘How long will he be like this?’ Joan had asked the nurse who ran the session.

‘Probably for the rest of his life,’ she had answered.

Ray would never forget the look on Joan’s face in that moment. Something had dimmed in her eyes, as if a spark of light had just been extinguished.

But things got better. Corey was prescribed Ritalin, which helped to quieten him down, enabled him to focus more effectively and even to sleep better some nights.

Ray also spoke to the girls, explained that they’d need to take on more responsibility in looking after their brother.

He flicked the kettle on now and frowned as Corey burst into the kitchen making aeroplane noises, with his arms stuck out at right angles.

‘I’m a jumbo jet,’ he screeched. ‘And you’re all in my flight path.’

Ray snagged one of his arms as he juddered by in an effort to stop him.

‘Hey, quieten down. Mummy’s just gone upstairs for a nap.’

Corey shrugged him off and flew on into the living room, engine noise louder than ever.

‘Come on, girls,’ Ray sighed. ‘I need you to take your brother to the park for an hour until it’s time for his tea. If he can run off some of that energy, we might even get him to bed on time tonight.’

Everybody suffered when Corey wouldn’t give in to his tiredness. It was virtually impossible to watch anything on television with him dashing noisily around in his pyjamas. On those days, Ray usually took him into the kitchen so Joan could watch Coronation Street in peace.

Chloe ignored her father’s plea, but Juliet sighed and closed her book.

‘Get your shoes on, Corey,’ she called. ‘We’re going to the park.’ Although she felt exhausted from being awake half the night coughing from a persistent chest infection, the park was only just around the corner and a few breaths of fresh air might help to give her a better night’s rest.

Seconds later, her brother scooted back through, still in jumbo jet mode.

‘Don’t wanna go to the park. I want to make a den.’ He circled his father, forcing Ray to pause in pouring boiling water into Joan’s mug.