The Silent Ones: An absolutely gripping psychological thriller(34)

‘Maddy hasn’t got a phone though, poppet. You know we’ve always said she has to wait until she goes to senior school.’

‘Bessie left a voicemail on her secret phone.’ Josh shoots me a sideways glance. ‘The one she’s hidden in her bedroom.’





Twenty-Two





I kiss Josh on the top of his head.

‘You did the right thing telling us all this.’ I smile at him. ‘Sit here for just a minute; I need to have a word with Dad.’

Tom and I get out of the car, closing the doors behind us.

‘Carol just told us we’re moving to a juvenile detention centre in Mansfield. It sounds horrible, but it will be better as we get a private bedroom there, so we can stay tonight.’

Tom looks shocked. ‘They’re keeping them overnight?’

I nod. ‘I feel like she’s slipping away from us with every hour that passes. But listen, it’s not the right place for Josh.’ I glance towards the car; our son is pressing his nose to the window, watching us forlornly. ‘I’m not happy him going to my parents’ house, for obvious reasons, so I’m going to ask Beth to look after him. She’s been texting me loads anyway, asking if there’s anything she can do.’

Tom nods. ‘Sounds like the best option under the circumstances.’ He runs his fingers through his hair. ‘I can’t believe Maddy kept a secret phone from us. What else don’t we know about that she got up to?’

‘Don’t even think that, never mind say it,’ I tell him sharply. ‘There are enough people out there who want to believe Maddy is guilty of something she can’t possibly have done. She doesn’t need us turning against her as well.’

He hangs his head guiltily and nods.

‘Kids are kids,’ I add. ‘They do silly things, hide stuff from their parents. It doesn’t make Maddy the monster everyone is trying to say she is online.’

Tom blows out a long breath.

‘I just… I don’t know, I’m shocked. I would have bet my life that she wouldn’t do anything remotely deceitful.’

‘Yes, well, we didn’t conceive an angel, Tom. She’s always been mischievous, you know that… remember the bathroom flooding incident at the dance school and the prank with Mum’s neighbour’s cat?’ I’m snappy, but it’s only to disguise my own shock that my daughter could be capable of flouting what she knows is an important rule to me: no phone until senior school. That somehow she’s got hold of one and proceeded to hide it from us.

It makes me go cold just to think about it. But I don’t want to get bogged down on this point.

I know she didn’t kill Bessie Wilford and that’s all that matters.

Tom sighs. ‘Listen, I know it’s bad timing, but because of the special circumstances, the HR manager has agreed to meet me before she finishes at six. I’m going to need some time off while we get Maddy through all this.’

‘OK, but just sit in the car with Josh for now, will you? Just while I call Beth. I’ll ask if she can come and get him right away.’

Tom nods, his face as troubled as mine, and I turn away and walk over to the side of the building.

Beth picks up on the second ring, and I just sort of vomit everything out in one sentence: Josh’s trip, the bullying comments, the fact that the girls are due to be interviewed again in about an hour by the family therapist.

‘And then to top it all, they’ve just told us they’re keeping the girls overnight, so we have to relocate to the juvenile detention centre in Mansfield.’

‘So you want me to have Josh until tomorrow? That’s no problem at all. I’m not at work until the afternoon.’ I hear the rattle of her keys. ‘I’m on my way right now.’

That’s one of the things I love about Beth: she’s so practical. She has this ability to make my problems seem straightforward when I’m inclined to wrap them up in barbed wire until I can’t see a way to solve them.

She knows what it’s like to lose a brother, the way we lost Corey. Over the years, she has always been there to cushion the guilt arrows from my own family and reassure me that I’m not a bad person.

‘I know you’d have laid down your life for him, Jules,’ she once told me sadly. ‘The way I would’ve gladly put myself in that car instead of Andrew.’

Beth’s brother was travelling home from a weekend break at Butlin’s with his best friend’s family. They were just three miles from the village on a busy dual carriageway when a car coming the other way hit them head-on. Andrew was the only person who didn’t die at the scene.

Mum was still working part-time at King’s Mill Hospital when he was brought in by the ambulance crew.

‘His injuries were far too severe for him to live,’ she told us afterwards. ‘He never regained consciousness.’

It almost killed Beth to know he was alive and all alone for two hours after the accident. She blamed herself that she didn’t get to see him before he died, but Mum sat down with her, held her hand and tried to set her mind at rest.

‘The team did everything they could for him, Beth, love. He didn’t suffer.’

It was the first time I realised that Mum was able to transform herself into another person altogether, becoming this caring, sensitive soul who, with a few well-chosen words, was able to really help Beth. I remember wondering why she was never able to show us, her own family, that side of her nature.