The Silent Ones: Could You Leave A Child Behind? (Chrissy Livingstone Book 3)

by Linda Coles

  “Are you expecting any deliveries at the shop?” he asked.

  Did he imagine the pause before she answered?

  “No deliveries expected,” she said and left it at that.

  Satisfied, he said goodbye and slipped his own phone in his pocket and felt for his keys. He had one on his keychain for the shop as well as for Bronagh’s house. The pebble was still there also, and he thought about the child that should have been in his cot. Where was the boy now?

  “Be back shortly,” he called to Jake, who was now busy back under the Audi.

  Chapter 42

  No sooner had Julie collected her sunglasses than she heard the sound of a vehicle approaching. Had he come back? If she tried to leave now, whoever it was would undoubtedly see her, but she didn’t fancy staying put either. Could it be that whoever had whacked her on the head had returned, perhaps to cart her away, never to be seen again? The more she thought of various scenarios, the more frightened she got. No, there was no way they were going to take her trussed up like an oven-ready chicken.

  “Steady on, Julie,” she said quietly to herself, needing convincing.

  She staggered off the couch and went straight to one of the narrow windows to peer out. There was a van, but it wasn’t the same size or model as the one from during the night. Was it the same driver though? She waited the extra moment and noticed it was a much older man, not the tall blond from the bar, the one that had almost locked Chrissy in the van with the boxes. This one looked like someone’s father, or even grandfather if you were young enough. Dressed in casual manual-work clothes, he walked hunched over, his face rough from the elements. His stomach told her he liked a pint or two. He made his way over to the front door and Julie tried her best to blend into the wall, her plan being to dart outside when he’d gone either way, the kitchen or the living room. She could only hope he didn’t catch her in his peripheral vision as she ran back towards the holiday home. That aspect could prove tricky but, sizing the man up, she figured even her small feet could move faster than his old ones. She stayed pressed back against the cool stone and closed her eyes like a ten-year-old. If she couldn’t see him, he couldn’t see her either. At the last minute, she remembered the lamp still lay nearby and reached to grab it. She held it tight in her right hand and resumed her position as the door creaked open. Through closed eyelids, she could just make out the change in light as more sunshine filled the room. She held her breath and prayed that whoever it was left the door open so she could flee.

  It wasn’t going to be her day. What felt like a lifetime was only a few seconds as the figure made his way into the living room where she was hiding in plain sight, and Julie did the only thing she could think of under the circumstances. She raised the lamp base high above her head and prepared to let it crash down against the intruder’s head. Whether the sun caught it she’d never know, but the bright reflection caught Brocc’s eye and he turned just in time to avoid getting a cracked skull. Quick as a flash, he raised a strong meaty arm and caught the lamp base before it could make contact. Julie screamed as she realised he held a firm grip on it and wasn’t for letting go, her hand clamped next to his. She prepared for the worst and with scrunched-up eyes, waited for yet another blow to her head. A moment later and she tentatively opened them, coming face-to-face with the older man with wizened skin. He looked like a farmhand, but her nose picked up grease. A closer look at his fingernails as he grasped the lamp base in front of her gave more of a clue to his occupation. Mechanic of some kind. She dared herself to speak since neither had yet said a word.

  “Are you going to hurt me again?” She knew she sounded feeble.

  “Again?” Confused.

  “You hit me earlier, with that lamp base,” she said, pointing a pale pink fingernail.

  “Not me. Who are you? What’s your business here?” He lowered the lamp base onto the nearby table, out of arm’s reach for either of them. Since she’d still no idea who the man was and what he wanted, Julie wondered how much to tell him.

  “Julie Stokes. And you?” She may as well try and get some details. Chrissy would be proud.

  “Brocc. Where do you fit into all this?”

  That explained the grease, she’d seen the sign for Brocc’s garage in the village. “I’m not sure I fit in at all actually.”

  “Makes two of us,” he mumbled.

  “So, who was here earlier then, the one that hit me?”

  “No idea. Nothing to do with me.” Trying again, he asked, “So what’s your business here then?”

  Julie let out a long sigh. There was something about the older man that she felt she could trust, maybe it was his worldly wise eyes. Plus, he hadn’t used the lamp base on her, even though he could have.

  “Before I tell you, do you know anything about the child or his parents?”

  Brocc frowned, pulled up a hard-backed chair and sat down. Julie followed, resumed her place on the sofa.

  “All I know is he’s gone. I’ve no idea what ‘this’ is, but I was asked to check on him. Boy was gone when I got here.” That must have been yesterday, Julie correctly surmised, after Chrissy had brought him and Rupert home. Where was that dog anyway?

  “And the parents?” she asked.

  “Don’t know anything else. So, where do you fit in?”

  Julie watched the man carefully as she spoke, looking for any sign of recognition or otherwise. “My sister found him alone yesterday. He’s with the authorities now. The Gardai took him away, to a foster home, I expect.”

  Brocc nodded at the news. At least the boy was safe.

  “The parents? Know anything about them?”

  “Nothing. One minute they were here on holiday, then they’d vanished. We met them on Saturday night at the pub and they seemed decent enough.”

  Since Brocc still wore a look of confusion, she was confident he couldn’t possibly be involved. “How about you, where do you fit in?”

  He stayed silent for a moment and Julie was about to repeat the question when he spoke.

  “There’s something going on. No idea what. But I know someone that does.”

  “Have you asked them?” Julie asked excitedly. “A little boy was abandoned for heaven’s sake.”

  “I have. She won’t say anything. Believe me, I wish she would.”

  “Then talk to the police, I mean Gardai?”

  “Can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  Brocc paused before adding, “Because she’s my sister.”

  Julie couldn’t imagine giving Chrissy up to the police no matter what, so there was no point asking this man to either. But the child?

  “So, what did you come for just now then?” Julie asked.

  “Don’t know really. Another look.”

  “Me too. Morbid curiosity, I suppose. And to look in the cellar.” She could have kicked herself for adding the last part. While he seemed non-threatening enough, she had no clue who he was really. Or what he was capable of.

  “What’s in the cellar?” he asked.

  Should she say? He could just look for himself, and since she wasn’t going to knock him out with the lamp base, there was no point in not telling him.

  “Boxes of belongings – sheets, towels, and the like. In removal-type boxes.”

  That confused him even more as he chewed on his upper lip. Could those be the deliveries Bronagh’s texts had talked about? Boxes of belongings? If so, what were they for and why the secrets? It still didn’t explain the child. He needed to press harder with his sister if he was going to sleep at night. A child now in care and its parents gone: it wasn’t the usual run-of-the-mill situation he found himself involved in. It didn’t sit right with him. Julie, realising there was nothing else to be gleaned from the man, stood to go; she’d been gone way too long.

  “I’ll leave you to it.”

  Brocc nodded silently and let her pass before standing in the doorway to watch her go.

  Back outside, Rupert padded across and she grabbed
his leash and led him home, back towards the house, sifting through her conversation with the older man. She eventually turned her attention to what she might say if Richard asked where she’d been for so long. Hopefully Agatha had kept him entertained and a lamp hadn’t been used in that particular story. It had been used twice today already.

  She needed to talk to Chrissy.

  Chapter 43

  Adam and Chrissy were sitting upon a grassy knoll on the cliff. The Atlantic Ocean crashed below against weather-beaten grey rocks, the noise almost therapeutic in its rhythm but not noisy enough to drown out their conversation. Between the wind, the gulls, and the water, it was a scene off any movie, likely a love story but Chrissy’s mind was on anything but romance. As she gazed out to the silvery water on the horizon, the wind flicked her hair back and forth and she scraped it out of her eyes before taking another bite from an egg mayonnaise sandwich. Adam could see her faraway look and said, “Penny for them?”

  “Sorry?” she enquired.

  “You’re miles away.”

  “That obvious, eh?” she said.

  “I’ve known you long enough. So yes, that obvious. I’m guessing it’s the child?”

  “What else could it be?” she said, “I feel so sorry for him. I just hope that he’s not in the system for too long and his parents are found sooner than later, whatever the consequences.”

  “Well, since they abandoned him, he’s likely to be taken into care anyway.”

  “I know. I just hope that he finds somewhere decent. You hear of such terrible stories.”

  Adam shuffled along closer and tucked into his own sandwich, chewed thoughtfully for a moment before adding, “The majority are well cared for, I’m sure. The system isn’t totally broken, and yes, you hear stories, but they are the minority, only a small amount, thankfully. The few that fall through the cracks as it were. Maybe in the past things were really bad, but not these days. We’ve had too many reforms in recent years and I’m sure Ireland will be just the same in that regard.”

  “I hope you’re right,” she said. The pair sat in silence for a moment or two, gazing way out to sea, enjoying each other’s company and the solitude. Chrissy’s mind was still wandering.

  “Did you ever see a car at the castle? Lorcan and Ciara’s?”

  Adam thought for a moment and said, “I don’t think so now you come to mention it. Why do you ask?”

  “Because they’re on an extended holiday, so they must’ve come from somewhere. We know he’s a lorry driver, yet I don’t remember seeing a car or any other vehicle.”

  “Well, they left somehow,” said Adam.

  “Did someone pick them up, perhaps?”

  “Possibly, yes, I suppose. But the question remains, why didn’t they take Flynn with them?”

  “I’ve been wondering about that too,” she said. “The only thing I can think of is maybe he’s not theirs?”

  Adam turned to Chrissy, gobsmacked. “Oh come on, Chrissy. How can he not be? What, you think he was borrowed in some way? For what, exactly?” Adam, visibly astonished at her notion, stopped chewing as he stared back at her.

  “I know it sounds a bit of a stretch, but what parent leaves a child behind anyway?”

  “A desperate one,” said Adam.

  “Desperate about what though? And then there’s the small matter of the wicker coffins,” she added, wagging a finger in his face, “in their cellar.”

  Adam put the remains of his sandwich back in the tub. “Are you going to spend all holiday thinking about this? I thought we were away having a break.”

  “Yes, I know, though it’s hard not to think about it. Plus, it kind of fell in our lap, didn’t it?”

  “No, it didn’t actually, Chrissy. The police are looking into it and the boy is in care, so the whole thing has nothing to do with any of us, it’s none of our concern. No laps needed.” He sounded final in his words and Chrissy knew when to keep quiet, a disagreement they didn’t need. She reached for the flask and poured each of them a cup of warm coffee and they sipped in silence, once again looking out over the ocean. It was an idyllic spot just off the path where a few stragglers walked by braving the cold and the wind. The ocean view made up for it. She was thankful for their warm jackets and sheltered spot. It was the perfect place to stop and enjoy for a while.

  She wondered about Julie and her visit to the castle. There was something about the way she’d spoken, distracted almost. Why? Or was she imagining it? There was no way she was going to share with Adam that they’d been snooping in the cellar, not the night-time visit and not Julie’s daytime visit either. Boxes of second-hand bedding and the like, it got weirder and weirder. It made no sense. Letting out a deep sigh, she changed her thoughts to something else. Adam was right. They were supposed to be away on a relaxing break and with Richard hurting his shoulder and ankle, the holiday had already taken a turn of its own. Never mind. They were going out for afternoon tea to Father Ted’s place later on. Maybe she should forget all about the castle, the boy, and the cellar, let the Guards do their job and concentrate on enjoying the last few days away. Work would be back on the agenda soon enough. Question was, could she do it?

  With their picnic lunch finished, Chrissy collected up their few things and put them in the rucksack.

  “I guess we should head back,” she said, standing. The wind had picked up another couple of notches and the temperature had dropped while they’d been enjoying their picnic and both felt the urge to get back to their warm car as quickly as possible. They set off back towards the visitor centre at a brisk pace.

  “I bet Richard’s been bored silly,” said Adam. “Not much of a holiday for him.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. He seems quite content, I think. Richard isn’t really one for much activity anyway, group or otherwise. It’s probably been a godsend for him, sitting reading in peace.”

  “Yeah, but there’s Julie to think of. She didn’t want to come out with us today, play gooseberry, three’s a crowd, and there’s only so much gossip even she can read in a magazine.”

  Chrissy, of course, knew exactly what Julie had been doing, though nipping back to the castle wouldn’t take long. She couldn’t wait to catch up with her, maybe there was something that she hadn’t mentioned on the call. Her voice had certainly told her she was distracted, and Chrissy had got the impression she’d wanted to get her off the phone. The question loomed again: why? Feeling the need to know sooner than later, Chrissy suddenly said, “Race you back to the car,” and set off at a fast jog, leaving Adam to struggle with an awkward backpack and catch her up. So much for thinking about something else.

  Chapter 44

  Chrissy eventually slowed down to wait and the pair walked back at a fair pace instead. In a little under two hours they reached the visitor centre and their hire car. Adam touched it first and declared he was the winner, and Chrissy let him have his moment. She tossed his backpack onto the back seat and got into the driver’s side. She wanted to be in control – no detours. Right now there was an urgency to get back to the house and speak to Julie. If Adam was driving, he’d be tempted to digress somewhere and she couldn’t have that, not today. She struggled out of her jacket, the car toasty from the sun. She checked her appearance in the rear-view mirror, her cheeks glowed pink from being wind-whipped in the fresh air, her hair loose tangles. At least it hadn’t rained though. She looked up through the windscreen at the threatening clouds that were tightly squashed together in the sky. They’d likely burst sometime later on in the day, it was October after all. Once they were tucked up inside at Father Ted’s for afternoon tea, it could do what it wanted.

  “We made good pace,” said Chrissy. “By the time we get back and changed we’ll be about ready to set off for the second activity of the day,” she said, smiling.

  “I hope you are enjoying your holiday,” Adam said, looking at her somewhat sideways. He didn’t sound too convinced.

  “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

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p; “Well, like I said earlier about you getting wrapped up in something, I want you to have a nice break too, both mentally and physically.”

  “I’m relaxed,” she said. “Don’t worry about me. I promise you I’ll be going home happy as Larry.” She hoped she believed it.

  With them both safely seat-belted in, Chrissy pulled out of the car park and headed back towards home. Since it was only a short drive, by the time they arrived back, they’d had a change of subject and were planning the evening’s entertainment. Adam was keen to eat somewhere different, having been to the pub a couple of times now. “Maybe we should let Richard and Julie choose for a change. I think we’ve chosen the pub twice, haven’t we?” he asked.

  “I fear if Julie gets her say we’ll be fine dining with white linen tablecloths and dressed in our fancy clothes and quite honestly, I’m just enjoying casual, aren’t you?”

  “I am, but if we do white tablecloths one night then at least it’s done.”

  As they neared their holiday rental, they could see the vivid pink of Julie’s jacket. She was sitting outside on the deck. In the cold.

  “I wonder why she’s not indoors. It’s bit chilly now,” said Chrissy.

  “I’ll never understand your sister,” said Adam light-heartedly. Chrissy parked up and they grabbed their belongings and headed inside. Richard met them at the back door. “Great timing,” he said. “I was just about to make some tea. Anyone want some?”

  “Me please,” chimed Adam and Chrissy in unison. She glanced at the clock on the cooker. They’d got about half an hour before they needed to leave. It was a forty-minute drive to the farmhouse, the scene of Father Ted’s.

  “Where’s Julie?” asked Richard.

  “She’s out on the deck,” said Chrissy, and at that moment Julie entered the doorway, wrapped up in a coat and woolly scarf.

  “There you are,” said Richard. “I wondered where you’d got to, you’ve been gone ages.”