Wall of Silence

by Buchanan, Tracy

  Bill put his hand out to the detective. ‘Bill Byatt, Patrick’s father,’ he said. ‘Detective Crawford, isn’t it? We spoke on the phone this morning.’

  Melissa looked at Bill in surprise. ‘You did?’

  ‘I called earlier for an update,’ Bill explained. ‘Right, let me get you some drinks,’ he quickly said, switching the kettle on as he rubbed Melissa’s arm reassuringly. ‘I think I’ll let Rosemary sleep a bit longer.’

  Melissa went to the sofa, beckoning for the kids to sit with her. The girls sat either side of her as Lewis perched his tall frame on the sofa’s arm. Bill remained standing, his arms crossed as he regarded the detectives.

  Detective Crawford took a dining chair across from them, but the other detective walked around the room, peering at family photos. Melissa clutched Lilly’s hand particularly tightly. She could sense her daughter was struggling with this. She was usually so good at putting a mask on things, unlike Lewis, whose emotions were always right at the surface. With Lilly, she trampled them down so well that when they came bursting out in an epic moment of drama the whole world seemed to take notice. Melissa didn’t want that to happen now.

  Detective Crawford smiled kindly. ‘I appreciate this is a difficult time for you all. I hear Patrick has been placed in an induced coma?’

  Melissa nodded, the kids remaining still and silent.

  ‘This shouldn’t take too long,’ the detective continued. ‘I wanted to give you a quick update on where we are with the investigation. We’re treating this as attempted murder.’

  Murder. Melissa had to squeeze her hands into fists to stop them trembling.

  Lilly gasped, putting her hand to her mouth as Lewis bit hard on his lip, trying to stop himself from crying. Grace remained expressionless.

  Detective Powell glanced over her shoulder at Grace, brow furrowed. Melissa pulled Grace close to her, feeling protective of her younger daughter and her quirky ways. Sure, Grace was a little stranger than other kids. In fact, Patrick had been sure at one point she was autistic. Melissa had disagreed. She’s unique, she’d said to him, our special little Grace. When Grace was eventually assessed for autism at Patrick’s insistence, she wasn’t anywhere on the spectrum, proving Melissa right. She’d felt a sense of triumph then, proof of just how deeply she knew and understood their children, especially the often unfathomable Grace.

  But recent events had blown that out of the water. She would never have dreamed her children would keep something so huge from her, but here they were, doing exactly that.

  ‘Of course,’ Detective Crawford continued now with a sigh, ‘we have little to go on. As you said in your statements yesterday, you all found Patrick like this. First, the children,’ he said, looking sympathetically at the kids, ‘then you, Mrs Byatt, a few moments later?’

  Melissa nodded.

  ‘Forensics have been at the house,’ the detective continued. ‘There are no fingerprints of significance and the, erm, blood spatter,’ he said, darting a look at Grace, ‘suggests a small struggle of some sort may have taken place.’

  Bill’s nostrils flared and Melissa pursed her lips.

  ‘There have been extensive searches of the area, both the village, where we’ve been doing door-to-door, and the forest,’ the detective said. ‘As you know yourselves, it’s a large area to cover with plenty of opportunity for any assailants to make it away on foot.’

  ‘Have you been searching the surrounding villages and towns too?’ Bill asked.

  Detective Powell nodded, finally walking over to join them. ‘These are all things we’re taking into consideration,’ she replied in clipped tones. ‘In fact, officers are in Ashbridge today doing door-to-door enquiries, and we’ll be talking to Mr Byatt’s colleagues at the council too.’

  ‘We’ll also be focusing on trying to find the knife,’ Detective Crawford added. ‘It’s clear it’s one of the knives from the knife block in the kitchen?’ He looked at Melissa for confirmation.

  She nodded, trying to stay calm as she thought of one of the kids hiding it. Even worse, one of the kids plunging it into their father’s side.

  ‘Then you know exactly what type of knife to search for?’ Bill asked.

  ‘Of course,’ Detective Powell replied. ‘It’s all part of the investigation. Find the knife and we may even find fingerprints if it hasn’t been cleaned thoroughly enough.’

  Melissa examined the children’s faces. Lewis started tapping his foot, a ball of pent-up energy, as Lilly went rigid beside him. Grace just continued staring into the distance, face unreadable.

  Bill sighed loudly and went to the back door, staring out at the forest with his hands in his pockets. ‘Surely there should be some kind of development,’ he said, without turning. ‘You really need to speak to those factory workers.’

  ‘It’s been less than twenty-four hours, Mr Byatt,’ Detective Powell said in a defensive tone. ‘Trust me, we’re as committed to finding the culprit as you are.’

  Melissa didn’t doubt it as she looked at the detective’s fierce expression.

  ‘Has anything else occurred to you since we spoke last night?’ Detective Crawford asked them all. ‘Anything out of the ordinary the past few days – weeks, even? Any enemies you can think of?’

  ‘I told you, my son had no enemies,’ Bill said. ‘The people here adore him. It’ll be a stranger attack, mark my words. Remember what I told you about Patrick’s watch being missing?’ he said to the detective.

  ‘Is it?’ Melissa asked. ‘Patrick hardly ever takes that watch off.’

  Bill nodded. ‘I noticed it at the hospital, so I asked the doctors. They said he hadn’t been wearing it. Then I confirmed with Detective Crawford this morning that there was no trace of it at the house.’

  ‘Yes, that’s certainly an interesting lead,’ Detective Crawford said. ‘I was looking it up this morning – worth a few thousand if it went to auction?’

  Bill nodded.

  ‘Quite a motive,’ Bill said.

  Melissa looked at the kids. Did they know where the watch was?

  Detective Powell followed Melissa’s gaze, noticing how tense Lewis in particular was. ‘Anything to add, Lewis?’

  Lewis’s brown eyes darted up, glassy with tears. ‘No, nothing.’

  Melissa put a steadying hand on her son’s back, stroking it. ‘Obviously, we’re still in shock,’ she explained.

  ‘Understandably,’ Detective Crawford said. ‘There are things we can do to help.’ He opened a folder and pulled out some leaflets. Among them was a booklet about child therapists. Melissa took it, staring down at it, not surprised to see Kitty Fletcher’s name on it.

  ‘I believe you haven’t been to visit your father?’ Detective Powell asked the children.

  Melissa looked at her in surprise. ‘He was only taken in yesterday afternoon.’

  The detective glanced at the clock and Melissa followed her gaze. It was past midday. Melissa could see the implication in her eyes, how strange it was that the kids hadn’t wanted to visit their seriously injured dad as soon as they could.

  ‘We were all about to go before you turned up,’ Melissa said, looking at the kids. ‘Right?’

  They all nodded but she could see the hesitancy in their eyes.

  ‘Do you have any more questions?’ Detective Crawford asked.

  Melissa paused. This would be her chance to tell the police, right now. Before it was too late, before this really spiralled out of control.

  But instead, she shook her head.

  She just couldn’t do it.

  ‘When will our house be ready to return to?’ Lewis asked.

  Melissa looked at her son. He probably wanted to get back there, make sure the knife was hidden properly.

  ‘Not for a few days, I’m afraid,’ Detective Crawford replied, smiling kindly at Lewis. ‘We have a scene guard on the house at the moment.’

  ‘Scene guard?’ asked Grace, curious.

  ‘We need to protect the place where your fat
her was hurt, Grace,’ the detective said gently. ‘Make sure nothing is tampered with.’

  Lewis looked worried. Was he thinking of the knife? The other detective seemed to notice Lewis’s concern too, her head tilting as she examined his face. Lewis caught the detective’s eye and tried to adjust his expression, but it just made him look more suspicious. Melissa realised how important it was for her to hear the truth from the kids first, rather than going to the police. They wouldn’t be able to handle being questioned by a detective like Powell!

  Plus, Detective Crawford was right, it had been less than twenty-four hours. They needed time.

  She thought of the posters she’d found too. Should she mention them? If she did, the police might begin to turn their attention to the family as they dug into the reason behind the I know scrawled across them. That in turn might lead to the kids. No, she wouldn’t bring the posters up yet. She’d keep one just in case she decided to tell the police, but it would be best if she got rid of the others. Maybe burn them. For now, they’d just need to stay hidden away in the bottom of her bag.

  ‘Anything else?’ Detective Crawford asked. ‘We really need to get on with the investigation now.’

  ‘No,’ Melissa said, smiling at him as she placed her hand over her bag, where the posters lay. ‘We appreciate you coming over . . . and for all the work you’ve been doing too.’

  She led the two detectives to the door but, before stepping out, Detective Powell peered back into the kitchen at Grace, narrowing her eyes.

  Melissa bristled. What was her problem with Grace? She clearly had no kids of her own and didn’t understand how weird they could be. ‘Keep us posted,’ Melissa said, keen for the detectives to leave.

  As they walked down the path, Maddy appeared on the other side of the road, dressed in black dungarees and a bright yellow T-shirt. It still gave Melissa a bit of a shock when she saw her short pink hair. It used to be a lovely dark brown colour but then she’d suddenly dyed it earlier in the year. It was probably no coincidence it was around the same time Maddy and Lewis split up. Some kind of statement of independence, Melissa supposed.

  Maddy froze when she saw the police, her brown eyes widening. The detectives nodded at her as they passed and she gave them a shaky smile.

  ‘Hello, Maddy,’ Melissa said when Maddy reached her.

  ‘Dad called, said you were okay with me coming over?’ she asked Melissa, wrapping her arms around herself, looking pale-faced as she peered behind her at the police again.

  It must be so shocking to see all this happening in her village, Melissa thought. ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘It’s just that we’re all going to the hospital soon.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Do come in, though. The kids would love to see you, even if it’s for a few minutes. How do the twins seem? Your dad mentioned you’ve all been messaging.’

  Maddy looked slightly alarmed at Melissa’s earnest expression. ‘Upset, I guess? It’s been pretty shocking for everyone.’

  ‘Right,’ Melissa said, exploring Maddy’s heavily kohled eyes. Did she know something? It was hard to tell.

  Before Melissa had a chance to ask her more questions, Grace ran outside and instantly pulled Maddy in. Maddy smiled, stroking Grace’s silky blonde hair as she let Grace lead her into the kitchen.

  ‘Hello, Maddy,’ Bill said as Maddy walked into the kitchen. ‘What are you doing here?’

  Nice welcome, Melissa thought. Bill and Rosemary had never really warmed to Maddy, with her quirky dress sense and outspoken political views, which ran in direct contrast to the Byatts’ more conservative political leanings. And then, when their beloved grandson started dating Maddy, they were really put out. It reminded Melissa of the way Bill and Rosemary had reacted when they learnt Patrick was dating her and she felt quite protective of Maddy as a result, being even more exuberant in her praise for the girl. Not that Maddy couldn’t handle herself.

  Patrick seemed to sit on the fence about Maddy, though. Deep down, she sometimes wondered if he felt the same way about Maddy as his parents, but for Lewis’s sake he kept his doubts to himself, apart from when Maddy contradicted his political talk at the dinner table. Melissa would notice a slight twitch of his jaw that showed his irritation.

  Melissa took a deep breath as she thought of Patrick lying in that hospital bed. She peered at the clock. She really was desperate to see him.

  ‘Shall we go to the snug?’ Lilly said to Maddy, gesturing to the large summer house at the back of her grandparents’ garden. During Rosemary and Bill’s big barbecues, the kids would often disappear into the summer house to play games and listen to music.

  ‘No time for that,’ Melissa said. ‘We’re going to the hospital to see your dad.’

  ‘I don’t want to go,’ Lilly said.

  Bill looked at his granddaughter in surprise. ‘This is your father. You must go, he needs to hear your voices.’

  ‘Your grandad’s right,’ Melissa said.

  ‘I just – I hate hospitals!’ Lilly declared.

  ‘Yeah, me too,’ Lewis said, folding his arms.

  ‘You think your father is enjoying his stint in hospital?’ Melissa said, voice catching. ‘You’re coming, okay? All of you.’

  Rosemary appeared on the stairs then in her dressing gown, face drawn. ‘We mustn’t force them,’ she said, having overheard the conversation. ‘Hospitals can be a difficult place for children. We need to be patient.’

  Patience, Melissa, patience.

  It was a phrase Melissa heard often from Rosemary in those days after she and her mother had left their cottage in the middle of the night. ‘People like your mother are fragile, Melissa. Their hearts and minds can’t heal in a day,’ Rosemary would often say when Melissa asked when her mother was going to snap out of her malaise. ‘It can take weeks, months – years, even. You need to be patient with her, Melissa, give her time.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Mum,’ Grace said softly as she took her mother’s hand. ‘I’ll come to the hospital with you.’

  Melissa smiled down at her daughter. ‘Good girl.’

  ‘You should get changed first, Mum,’ Lilly said, peering at a smear of blood on Melissa’s sleeve. Melissa followed her gaze and the sight of Patrick’s blood made it all come rushing back to her, the horror of it all.

  She put her hand to her mouth, feeling a sob begin to build.

  ‘I’ll do that now,’ she said quickly. Then she ran upstairs, waiting until she closed the door behind her before she began to cry. This was how it had been in the months and years after Joel died, still was. It came in waves. Sometimes, life seemed to go on as normal, which felt quite extraordinary, really, considering her son was no longer there. But she had had two other kids to look after, and then a newborn too. Other times, it would hit her like a sledgehammer.

  But Patrick wasn’t Joel, was he? He would live. He had to live. And she needed to bloody pull herself together. She wiped her tears away and grabbed one of Rosemary’s old tops, replacing her dirty one with it.

  Then she walked back downstairs.

  Grace was waiting for her in the hallway, her jacket already on. ‘Where are the twins?’ Melissa asked her.

  ‘In the summer house with Maddy.’

  Melissa rolled her eyes. ‘I’ll go get them.’

  She marched out into the garden, then paused. If the twins would tell anyone about what had happened the night before, it would be Maddy. Maybe they were talking about it right that minute? She checked Rosemary wasn’t watching her, then quietly approached the summer house from the back, hoping to overhear them. She imagined what Patrick would say. He’d probably shake his head, joke that she was a hypocrite. She had, after all, told him off only a few weeks ago for suggesting they read Lewis’s phone messages after Patrick mistakenly thought Lewis was doing drugs. Turned out the white powder he found in Lewis’s school bag was some translucent face powder Maddy had asked him to give Lilly for an audition the next day.

  Patrick did that a lot
, getting hold of the wrong end of the stick, like the time several years ago when he told everyone Barack Obama was having a beer in the Neck of the Woods pub during his state visit to the UK. When people rushed down, it wasn’t Obama at all.

  Melissa smiled when she thought of that now, yearning to see her husband. First, though, she wanted to see if she could overhear anything.

  Luckily, the summer house backed on to the forest, which meant it was easy to reach from beyond the trees without being noticed. It was also easy to hear whatever people were saying inside, as Melissa and Patrick had discovered to their horror after hearing his parents having a bit too much of a ‘good time’ in there once while walking Sandy in the forest. The look on Patrick’s face when he realised what the grunting noise was! It still made Melissa smile to think of it.

  The smile disappeared from her face. Would she ever be able to walk through the forest with Patrick again? Giggle with him, and watch his tanned cheeks turn red with embarrassment?

  Melissa crept close to the back of the summer house. It was large, ten square metres, and painted a calming olive green. There was even a small veranda at the front, and inside it was adorned with two large wicker sofas, a fridge full of soft drinks and a large TV on the wall, with speakers on a shelf. Bill, Patrick and Lewis had put it up five years before. Melissa remembered sitting in the sun with Rosemary and the girls, watching with pride as a ten-year-old Lewis hammered nails into wood, Patrick patiently instructing him on how to get it perfect as Bill nodded in approval.

  Melissa pressed her ear against the wall.

  ‘You mean the New Year’s Eve party?’ she heard Maddy ask.

  ‘Yeah,’ Lilly said.

  ‘What did Carter say about your mum?’ Maddy asked.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Lewis replied. ‘Lilly shouldn’t have said anything.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Just drop it, Mads,’ Lewis said.