Silent Treatment

by David James

  As the door opened the room looked as before, except for the doll which was now looking straight at her from the small chair. She found herself reaching forward and picking it up, she half expected it to make some noise as she did so, but it remained silent and she carefully placed it in her holdall and walked back into the hallway.

  As she looked ahead of her it was almost completely black. She was thankful that she knew the way so well. She inched her way down the corridor and placed her foot on the top step of the staircase.

  And then she heard the noise from downstairs.

  It was the sound of a door opening and she watched as her father’s study door opened and closed.

  She must have left it unlocked. But she was sure she had locked it last night.

  She thought about going back to her room and hiding herself away, maybe everything would be normal in the morning. If she hid there then maybe, just maybe, she would be left alone.

  With a force of will she made herself continue walking down the staircase, placing each foot as lightly on the step as she could; her eyes fixed firmly on the study door.

  She reached the bottom of the stairs. She needed to get her car keys and she quietly made her way to the kitchen and opened the draw she always kept them in.

  They weren’t there.

  She carefully moved the papers and contents of the draw around. They must be hiding below. But no matter how she moved things around, the car keys still weren’t there.

  She knew she had put them there; but if she had, then they would be there now wouldn’t they?

  Sarah.

  She jumped.

  Don’t leave me Sarah.

  She turned around but there was nothing there. But she knew she had heard the voice. Unless she had just heard it in her own head.

  She covered her ears firmly and listened for the voice again. She heard nothing and slowly removed her hands.

  She needed to think clearly now. Think about the immediate, tangible problem of the keys.

  She had a spare set. She had never needed them before, because she always put them in the draw. But it seemed she hadn't. Somehow she forced her mind to think clearly for a split second and a picture of the keys hanging in the cloakroom popped into her mind.

  She left the kitchen and opened the cloakroom door. If you didn’t know they were there you wouldn’t find them by chance. She felt the cold metal of the keys on her hand and gratefully clasped them tightly.

  She could now leave the house, but she knew she had one more place she had to go to first. She walked across the hallway to her father’s study, reached into her pocket and pulled out the key, slowly turning it in the lock until she heard the lock release its grip.

  She flipped the light switch on and as the room was suddenly lit, she half expected to see someone in there.

  Sarah walked across the room, glancing at the chess set briefly, and headed to the desk. She knew the file she wanted. She knew where she had put it on the desk.

  It wasn’t there.

  She started to look around, furiously moving the other folders around until she finally found it, buried amongst the others. She picked it up and shuffled through the papers inside. She had got to know the file well over the past few days and she knew it well enough to notice that the papers were in a different order. If she had more time she probably would have wondered how this could have happened, but she knew she must leave the house tonight or not at all. She bundled the file into her holdall and headed back out of the door, not worrying about locking it.

  The corridor was dark and she scrambled around to find the light switch.

  Where are you going Sarah?

  She didn’t have time to cover her ears. The voice seemed to have come from down the corridor, down towards the room and the studded door.

  ‘Leave me alone,’ she shouted to the darkness.

  Her heart was pumping now and she could feel her head begin to get dizzy.

  Don’t leave me Sarah.

  The voice seemed to be louder now. It now sounded pleading and the hurt in its tone was almost too much for Sarah to bear.

  It would be the easiest thing to just stay in the house and she found herself looking back across at the staircase. She could be back in bed in less than a minute, safely back in the warm embrace of the house, and her father, and the memories of him. Maybe then she would be left alone.

  She found herself starting to walk back towards the stairs.

  That’s right, we can always be together. Together in the house.

  The voice encouraged her and she found herself walking faster towards the stairs.

  And then the children’s faces appeared in her mind. If she stayed here wasn’t she just abandoning them? What good would she be cowering here in the house? If nothing else she couldn’t just abandon Ben; she owed him that much. She wondered what he was doing now? She wondered why he hadn’t got in touch, was something or someone stopping him?

  Her feet slowed down until she stopped and she turned back around and began to slowly walk back towards the front door.

  No Sarah, what are you doing? Don’t leave me, we can be happy here. Like before.

  She began to walk more quickly until she was half running and reached the front door. She turned around and looked back inside the house; at her father’s study; at the door down the corridor. She could feel the pull of the house as it tried to exert pressure on her to stay. But before she could change her mind she turned the handle and virtually flung herself out of the front door.

  No, Sarah, no!

  As she slammed the door shut, she felt an overwhelming guilt. Guilt that she was losing her father all over again as she fled from his memory.

  Sarah walked quickly to the car before she could change her mind and return to the welcoming embrace of the house.

  She didn’t look back.

  She was already feeling enough guilt about leaving her father.

  If she had looked back, she would have seen a figure standing in the window of the house. It stood for a moment, observed her leaving and then slowly shut the curtains behind it.

  Chapter Thirty Four

  Sarah settled into the car and hurriedly arranged the maps out on the seat. It all looked pretty straightforward, right up until the last few miles where there were several small roads to navigate. With a final look in the rear view mirror, she set off along the road to the village to find Ben.

  The journey involved plenty of motorway driving. Quick, but dull, which gave her time to think. This was not always a good idea for Sarah, it was when she thought too much that problems seemed to spiral out of control. Maybe Ben was fine and he was too busy to contact her. She would turn up and he would be surprised to see her and wonder why she was there.

  She looked in her mirror for the umpteenth time, but she couldn’t see anyone following her. But it was still quite dark and it was difficult to tell.

  Sarah turned on the radio to distract herself. The miles rolled by and the background music was replaced by the sound of a chat show.

  'So what's really going on with the children then?'

  Sarah groaned and reached across to change the channel.

  'It's been months now and we still don't know anything new do we. Do we even know what treatment the children are receiving?'

  Sarah's hand stopped. The emphasis on the word 'treatment' was almost sneering.

  'I think it is high time we were given more information about these poor children. Who knows what they might have been through.'

  Sarah wanted to turn off but she couldn't. It was so unfair. They were in effect criticising her treatment and her professionalism.

  'I'm going to open up the phone lines now. So what do you all think about the way the children are being treated then? And since the institute doesn't seem to be getting anywhere, have you got your own theories about the children? Give us a call now on our usual number. Who knows, maybe we can help the institute out, they clearly need someone to do their job for them.'r />
  'Hello Steve. Well I think it is just awful that they haven't done anything to help these poor children. And have you got any ideas who they are and where they are from?

  I was talking to my husband and we think that they must have been involved in some accident, you know lost their memories or something.'

  'And their voices?'

  'Yeah, those as well.'

  'Thanks and now our next caller.'

  'Well Steve are we sure they haven't talked. And you know they aren't telling us about it?'

  Sarah laughed out loud. 'I wish that was true, I really do,' she said to the radio. She imagined Nathan chattering away to her.

  'Maybe they are aliens…'

  Sarah reached forward and turned off the radio.

  In some ways she was glad to be away from all this. She didn't miss going through the media encamped outside the institute every day, and she was away from Susan and the director.

  The miles rolled by more slowly without the radio on, but she wasn't tempted to put it back on. Finally she was turning off the main roads and onto the smaller country roads. Her instructions were rather more vague for the last part of her journey. The road began to turn sharp left and ahead of her it began to narrow.

  With some difficulty, and the occasional thought that she couldn't possibly be going the right way, she rounded a corner and was relieved to see a sign with the village name on.

  But finding it had been the only really planned part. She hadn't thought about what exactly she would do now she had arrived. She had hoped that it would be as simple as finding where Ben had said he was staying and then finding that he was fine. And then he would tell her about what he had found out about the children, and everything would become clear. As she drove along the narrow country road towards the village, she wondered what reception might be awaiting her.

  It was at least now light as Sarah pulled the car into what was clearly the village square. The church towered over the small square, which had the usual village shops in. Sarah smiled as she saw the monument that they had recreated for the children back at the institute. Their effort hadn’t been exactly the same as the one she was now looking at; but it wasn’t that different. As Sarah parked the car she was struck by the similarity between the square and the crude recreation she had tried to create at the institute.

  Ben had mentioned the name of the guest house he was staying in and she parked the car outside and got out, grabbing the small bag she had packed from the car. She paused, looking around nervously, but as far as she could tell no one had followed her here.

  She walked towards the welcoming doorway to the guest house.

  The foyer was small and dimly lit, but pleasant all the same. There was a small counter in the corner with a quaint brass bell on it. Sarah stood at the counter and waited. Everything seemed quiet. She supposed that they probably didn't get a huge amount of visitors, being off the beaten track.

  She continued to wait.

  Eventually she pressed the bell as softly as she could. The clang that it let out seemed out of all proportion to how hard she had pressed it. The ringing sound seemed to bounce off the walls and amplify in volume. Slowly the sound dissipated and Sarah was left in silence. Her hand reached out reluctantly to press the bell again.

  'Sorry to have kept you madam.'

  The voice was pleasant but still made her jump. He was a kindly looking man of about fifty, dressed just about smartly enough for the job.

  Sarah recovered her composure. 'I was wondering if you had a room for the night available?'

  'Certainly, we have one that has just become available. How long would you like it for?'

  Sarah hadn't really considered this. She had no real idea.

  'Maybe a couple of nights if that is alright?'

  'Just let us know if you want to stay any longer.' With that he turned and reached for a key hanging on the wall.

  Most of the hotels that Sarah had stayed in for work had the plastic card to open the door. She felt as if she was going back in time as she felt the cold metal of the key in her hand rather than the warm plastic. Her feeling was further emphasised when he opened the guest book in front of her.

  'If you could just put your name in please. Very old fashioned I know, but we find guests quite like it.’

  Sarah glanced at the previous names and dates. As she suspected there hadn't been many visitors recently. What struck her as strange was that she couldn't see Ben's name. There were a couple of men's names and women's names, but she couldn't see Ben's. It was then that she wondered if he had used his real name. He was a journalist after all, so maybe he was used to using an alias. She immediately wondered if she should do the same? Her hand was holding the pen and was poised over the book.

  'Just your name will do fine.'

  Sarah wondered if he was being sarcastic. But she had to admit that it was beginning to look strange that she didn't seem to know her own name. She hastily wrote in her real name as she was beginning to attract attention which was not what she wanted to do.

  She wondered if she should broach the subject of Ben with him now. Maybe she would settle in before mentioning anything.

  ''Just up the stairs and second on the left. Do you need a hand with your bag?'

  Sarah looked down at the rather small bag she had brought. 'No, I'll be fine thanks.’

  'Dinner is from seven o'clock. Will you be joining us for dinner?'

  He made it sound like a personal invitation. She could hardly refuse. 'Yes, seven o'clock will be fine.' And with that she set off up the stairs to her room.

  She opened the door, dropped her bag on the floor and collapsed onto the bed. She felt an odd mixture of relief at being away from her house and a yearning to be back there.

  She lay there for a while, eyes closed, listening to the TV in the background. When she next opened her eyes and sat upright on the bed, the small clock radio said six thirty; just enough time to dress for dinner. She hadn’t exactly packed many clothes, but this was a small guest house in a small village. She reasoned that they wouldn't be expecting too much in the way of dress.

  Suitably attired, she examined herself in the small mirror. It would do.

  She picked up her mobile phone.

  Ben had been right about the signal, it was virtually non-existent. She decided to resort to text.

  Hi Ben,

  Guess what? I'm here! I know you can't be far away, the village is really small. I'm checked in at the place you mentioned. Just going down to dinner. Maybe you could join me? It's Sarah by the way.

  She headed out of the door and down to dinner. The dining room was small and had enough tables for about a dozen people. The thing that she noticed most was that she was going to be the only occupant. She stood for a moment, wondering if she would be shown to a table. After she began to feel a bit foolish, she decided to select the table for herself and chose the table in the corner, this would at least give a good vantage point if anyone else actually arrived.

  She sat patiently for what felt like an age and just as she was beginning to wonder if they were playing a hoax on her, she recognised the man who had checked her in earlier.

  'Good evening, I'm glad you could join us.'

  Sarah wasn't sure if he was being funny by using the word 'us'.

  She consulted her menu. To be honest she didn't much care what she ordered, she was too hungry.

  'I'll have the soup to start and then the salmon please.'

  'Certainly. And to drink?'

  Her reply was instantaneous. 'Double vodka on the rocks thank you.'

  He smiled, nodded slightly and left the room.

  It was a mercifully short amount of time before he reappeared with her drink. She smiled in thanks and took a generous sip from the glass. She immediately felt herself relax a little. She heard the door again and wondered if her food was arriving already. As she turned to look, she saw what she took for fellow guests walk in and sit down at a table. An older couple, they looked t
o her as if they were perhaps walkers or something similar.

  The plate of soup arrived shortly afterwards and was placed in front of Sarah. She wondered if she should ask him about Ben now. She looked up at him and decided that now might not be the time; she had two more courses to go, so she would wait until later.

  'Thank you,' was all she said.

  She set about eating the soup and only as she started to eat did she realise quite how hungry she actually was. The bowl was more demolished than eaten. The dining room began to get more residents ambling in. It wasn't exactly full, but Sarah felt a lot less self-conscious now.

  She jumped slightly as her bowl seemed to magically lift up and move away from the table. The owner had managed to appear stealthily besides her. She supposed it was a useful skill he had developed all these years gliding around the tables trying to be as unobtrusive as possible.

  'Another drink madam?'

  He was just doing his job, but Sarah couldn't help wondering if she looked as if she needed a drink.

  'Same again please.' He smiled and moved away, silently.

  Sarah was hoping that a little more alcohol might give her the courage to ask him the questions she really wanted to ask. As the drink dutifully arrived, she wondered why she was feeling so nervous asking about Ben? Don't trust anyone Sarah. They aren't what they seem.

  Even here, Nathan still seemed to be uppermost in her mind.

  Ben had come out to the village to investigate a possible connection with the children. It was an area with questionable reception. He hadn't been in touch in a few days. That was it. Why was she worried?

  She took another sip of her drink and her meal appeared in front of her. Was now the time? She looked up and started to open her mouth to speak.

  'Everything okay madam?'

  Sarah held his gaze for a moment before mumbling 'Fine, yes fine, thanks.'

  A brief smile and he was gone.

  She was running out of courses.

  Sarah ate her main course slowly and deliberately, but before long she had cleared the plate. She took a gulp from her drink and waited for her plate to disappear. Moments later the plate began to rise from the table.