The Silent Ones: An absolutely gripping psychological thriller(39)

2003





Juliet and Corey walked past the brown, crisping front lawns of the smaller houses of the village and then up Derby Road, where the expansive red roofs of the big detached houses steamed in the heat.

Corey’s chatter was a constant backdrop to the walk. He hated silence and would do anything he could to fill it, but Juliet had stopped listening a while back.

When they finally reached the warren, around a mile from home, she was struggling. The soporific effect of the medication, paired with exhaustion from little sleep, had tightened its grip on her, and she was feeling more and more drowsy.

She should have accepted Chloe’s grudging offer to accompany them.

‘Come on, slowcoach!’ Corey sang repeatedly as he skipped effortlessly ahead.

The vast expanse of bracken and wooded areas stretched out before them. Incredibly, given the parched conditions, it was still quite green, although Juliet saw that the curling ends of the bracken had turned brown and the usually lush long grass that bordered the footpaths had a sort of half-baked, bone-dry look about it.

She usually felt a sense of freedom coming here, but today, she was overwhelmed by the distance she’d have to cover to get to the thicker bracken that was essential for den-making.

‘Maybe we’ll do just a little walk today,’ she suggested hopefully, but Corey was having none of it.

‘I want to climb Stony Side Hill,’ he insisted. ‘I want to find my den. I have to find it, Juliet. Can we find it? Pleease!’

Last time they’d been here, a couple of weeks earlier, she’d helped Corey make a start on what he proclaimed was his best den yet.

One side of Stony Side – Corey’s favourite hill – was rich with bracken and soft slopes; the other side was barren and rocky. They always stayed on the safer green side and during their last visit had located the perfect pitch for a den. It was sheltered from the wind and in a bit of a dip where it couldn’t easily be spotted from the ground.

They’d started by constructing the floor, stamping down the clay-rich soil and laying a carpet of bracken so that it wouldn’t turn into a sea of mud if it rained. That had been a good afternoon, and Juliet had enjoyed spending time with her brother, but today would be different and she couldn’t wait for it to be over.

By the time they reached the top of the hill, she was really flagging. Her back was slick with sweat and she felt weak and light-headed.

‘I’ll just have to have a little lie-down,’ she gasped. ‘Have a quick search around and shout me when you find the den.’

She lay back and looked up at the blue sky, scattered with white clouds. The grass tickled the back of her neck and a cool breeze soothed her fevered brow. The sun beat down on the pale skin of her face and she vaguely berated herself for only applying sunscreen to her arms.

She watched the tendrils of wispy white entwine in the vast blue above her, slowly drifting across and out of view… so slowly, so serenely.

She allowed her eyes to gently close.

She’d rest for just for a minute or two. If she could gather her energy a little, she’d surely be good as new, and it would give Corey time to find his den before they began work on it again.



* * *



Juliet sat bolt upright. The sun had disappeared behind a thick puff of candyfloss cloud, and she shivered even though it was still very warm.

‘Corey!’ she yelled, standing up so she could easily spot her brother’s bright green Teletubbies T-shirt.

But he was nowhere to be seen. Her own T-shirt felt damp and clammy on her back, and the skin on her face tingled unpleasantly. When she touched her nose and cheeks, she knew immediately that she had burned badly in the sun.

‘Corey!’ she called again, but there was no answer.

She checked her watch. It was 4.20. She’d been asleep for thirty-five minutes! She never napped in the day; that was a habit for old people like her parents. It drove her mad when Mum and Dad slept after Sunday lunch and instructed the three of them not to make a sound for the next hour. Trying to keep Corey quiet was like trying to harness the wind.

‘Corey? It’s time to go home now,’ she called, and began to walk across the brow of the hill to the large rock at the top that acted as a viewing platform.

She climbed onto it and peered over the edge, down the steep side that gave the hill its name. It was dotted with sharp, jutting rocks that all the kids around here had been warned to stay away from.

Suddenly her eyes narrowed in disbelief and horror. Halfway down the slope lay a small, crumpled body, T-shirt glowing neon green as the sun finally managed to break through the cloud again.





Twenty-Six





The village





After the incident with Helen Bootle at the tea shop, Dana had returned to her small terraced house, relieved to be away from the harsh judgement of the locals.

She didn’t feel in the least bit hungry, even though she had ended up leaving without her lunch.

She sat quietly in her living room, exploring her own thoughts and feelings. She had come across the attitude Helen had expressed many times before. Lots of people found it difficult to understand how she could support people who had been accused or convicted of serious crimes.

Dana’s closest friend at university, Polly, had become a criminal defence lawyer. She frequently dealt with abuse on the street because she willingly took on clients who had committed rape and murder and gave them the best defence she could in court.