The Silent Ones: An absolutely gripping psychological thriller(55)

When Corey died, I found out at thirteen years old that the pain of a broken heart is as real as any physical injury. Over time, it lessened, but the ache never went away, and now I might have a fresh gaping wound to add to it.

I feel myself begin to drift off to sleep, and then suddenly I’m sitting bolt upright, my heart pounding like a jackhammer in my chest. For a moment I think I can smell smoke, and I jump up and grab my dressing gown, but there’s nothing, no smouldering, no fire.

I slide open the sash window, which only opens a couple of inches, and crouch down to drag in the cool, fresh air.

The business is all but ruined and we’ll probably lose the house now. Getting over that fire feels insurmountable, even though we still have the orders.

A sharp pain in my hand causes me to look down, and I see I’ve broken the skin on my thumb with my fingernail. I can see the dark blood against my pale skin in the light of a nearby car park lantern that casts everything in a sort of sepia filter, as if it isn’t quite real.

But this is very real. Only twenty-four hours ago, I was at home, in bed. Tom was finishing watching a film downstairs, Josh was safely away on his school trip and Maddy was fast asleep in her bedroom. I had a successful business, and I remember I couldn’t even focus on reading my book because I was too busy running through everything I had to do the following day. All those terribly important tasks that just couldn’t wait had now dissolved into thin air.

Now that life has been all but decimated, and the forced helplessness is the worst thing of all as I wait and wait in this sterile box until we learn our fate.

I have nurtured and protected my daughter for ten whole years, and now she’s slipping away from me like sand through my fingers and there’s nothing I can do about it.

Nothing at all.





Forty





2003





Halfway up the hill, Juliet was forced to slow her climbing pace right down. She felt hot and breathless and had to take regular rests. It was all she could do to plod the rest of the way up the hill one step at a time without keeling over.

About ten minutes later when she eventually reached the top, dizzy and disoriented, she saw that between them, Chloe and the paramedics had managed to haul Corey back up to the top of the rocky slope.

The little boy looked pale and lifeless. Something dark and indefinable had Juliet by the throat, sucking the very air out of her lungs.

One of the paramedics looked up and jumped to his feet.

‘Sit down, take a breath.’ He pressed her shoulders gently and Juliet sank to her knees on the grass. ‘You’re having a panic attack. Close your eyes and breathe. In… one, two. Out… one, two. That’s right, just carry on like that for a bit.’

She felt the tightness in her throat give a little, and opened her eyes.

Chloe walked over to her. ‘Calm down, Juliet. The paramedics need to keep their attention on Corey.’ Her voice was sharp, but she laid a hand on Juliet’s arm. ‘Come on, they think he’ll be all right.’

‘He looks…’ Juliet couldn’t manage to speak and breathe at the same time.

‘He looks bad because he knocked himself unconscious, but he’s awake now. They’ve told him he has to keep as still as possible and not go to sleep.’ Chloe sighed. ‘He’s taken a nasty bump to the head and broken his leg, and they need to get him to hospital to do some scans and X-rays.’

Thank you, God. Thank you for sparing him.

Juliet’s breathing eased a little more and she got to her feet. She took a few steps forward and saw Corey’s eyelids flutter, and her heart squeezed in on itself.

She walked over and crouched down beside her brother’s head.

‘I’m so sorry I let you down, Corey,’ she whispered, stroking his cheek. ‘I’ll make it up to you, I promise.’

His face seemed so pasty, and he looked skinny and frail just lying there listlessly as the paramedic placed an oxygen mask over his face.

She would explain to her parents what had happened: that she hadn’t wilfully neglected her brother but had been unwell herself.

Hopefully they would understand.



* * *



‘What on earth were you thinking, you stupid little bitch!’ Juliet ducked as her mother aimed a teacup at her head. ‘You were asked to do one thing… one measly thing to help! And now your brother’s in hospital with all that that entails.’

The cup hit the kitchen cupboard next to Juliet and smashed into pieces, showering the linoleum with tiny shards of floral china.

‘Come on, love, calm down,’ Ray chided. ‘You’ve only just got rid of that migraine.’

‘Yes, and I shall have another one twice as bad at this rate.’ Joan glared at Juliet, then leaned back against the worktop, suddenly breathless. ‘Why have they got to keep him in? Two or three days, they said.’

‘It’s the concussion; they think he might have a little bleed on his brain,’ Ray told her.

‘Bleed on the brain’ sounded so awful. Corey was only five, Juliet thought sadly. He shouldn’t have to go through this. Her entire skull was pounding and she willed it to get worse. She hated herself for what she’d done. It could so easily have been avoided.

‘What were you thinking, Juliet?’ Ray shook his head and sighed. ‘Falling asleep like that when you were supposed to be looking after the lad!’