Silent Child

by Sarah A. Denzil

  Despite everything Jake had said, I still didn’t want to send Aiden away. His accusation of my selfishness hit me hard, but the more pressing issue was of control, again. If Aiden was with some psychiatric care facility, I wasn’t able to control what happened to him. In my mind, I pictured him in a room with psychologists, going through test after test, pointing at their silly cards, ignoring repetitive questions, taking their numbing pills, and worse—becoming the subject of their latest book. No, I couldn’t let that happen to Aiden, but I didn’t want him to hurt the baby either.

  After breakfast, I leaned across the kitchen table and took his hands in mine. Aiden still wasn’t particularly keen on being touched, but he had learned to tolerate it better. He didn’t squirm or flinch like he used to, and he was more allowing of me touching him than anyone else. If Jake or Rob touched his shoulder, no matter how lightly, he would move away from them.

  “Aiden, I know you understand that in one week I’ll give birth to your sister. I don’t know what happened in the nursery. Did my fall frighten you?” I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter. Look, I want you to know that your little sister is going to love you very much. We all love you very much. Me, your dad, Jake, Grandma and Grandad, we’re all one big family. I want to show you something.” Obediently, Aiden followed me up the stairs, moving with his usual stiffness. I kept glancing behind me to read his facial expression, but there was nothing.

  More than once I imagined him grabbing my shoulder and pulling me back. More than once I picked up my pace, desperate to get to the top of the stairs to the corridor where I felt less vulnerable. I hated myself for thinking those thoughts.

  “Remember yesterday, Aiden?” I asked, leading him into the nursery. “I fell over and you wouldn’t help me up. Well, that’s not very nice for one person to do to another person. We should always try to help each other. So if you fell down, I’d help you back up. If I fall, you should help me. Especially seeing as I’m pregnant at the moment.” I smiled down at my bump, but Aiden’s gaze didn’t follow mine. I cleared my throat and continued. “This is difficult to talk about, Aiden, because I don’t know why you did it. Why did you destroy the mobile and throw paint into the crib?” I moved away from the offending area so that he could view his handiwork. “That’s not a very nice thing to do at all. That’s not welcoming your baby sister to the home. Are you listening, Aiden? I can’t tell if you’re listening…”

  I stopped speaking. For the first time since he had arrived back from the hospital, Aiden was frowning. There was a line forming between his eyebrows and his face was angled down at the crib. Slowly, he shook his head and backed away.

  “Aiden?” I whispered.

  He ignored me as usual, but this was different. He was absorbed by the sight of the broken mobile and red paint. He seemed frightened of them. A tingling sensation snaked up my spine and the blood drained from my face. Why was he so afraid of what was in that crib? He’d done it. So why did it frighten him?

  And then it dawned on me: He didn’t remember doing it.

  *

  Spooked by Aiden’s reaction to the red paint (although I didn’t want to admit it at the time) I called Rob and asked him to come over. He brought his parents with him and they sat with Aiden watching a silly comedy film in the living room while I shared a pot of tea with my ex. He seemed tired today. Rob was generally an attractive man, but a little tiredness actually worked in his favour. Some stubble and eye-bags made him sexier, though I tried my hardest not to remember.

  “Did you read Amy’s article?” I asked. We’d already discussed Aiden’s progress, though I decided not to tell him about the crib, and we’d exchanged pleasantries in the presence of his parents. The weather has turned quite mild for this time of year, hasn’t it? Unseasonably warm. Makes you wonder if there’s going to be a storm to clear it all away.

  “I did.” His uncharacteristically laconic response made me wonder if he was holding back.

  “And? Tell me what you thought.”

  Hunched over his tea, Rob had to lift his chin to look at me. “You’re not going to like it.”

  “Just say it.”

  “I think she was right.”

  I exhaled in a rush. “What?”

  “Hear me out, okay? Don’t go jumping to any conclusions. I know you’ll take that to think I’m calling you a bad mother.”

  “I didn’t think that until you just said it.”

  “Oh. Well, anyway, I don’t think that.” His face flushed pink. He took to staring at his tea again. “It’s just… some of it rang true. Aiden was a little wild. We both thought that was a cool thing. He was a brave kid, an active kid. I loved the fact that Aiden could climb a tree and played in the garden all day collecting spiders. I dunno if it’s some stupid macho thing but it made me feel good that he was a boy’s boy, you know?”

  “Yes,” I answered. “And it is a stupid macho thing.”

  His eyelashes flitted apart so he could roll his eyes at me. “What Amy said was mean-spirited and nasty. She was implying we’d let Aiden down and I don’t think we had.”

  I bit my lip because there was a question I wanted to ask, but every time I thought it, tears pricked at my eyes and I was afraid that my voice would crack. “Was Aiden a bad kid?” The weight of the question lifted from my shoulders and I let out a long, slow breath.

  “No, Emma, no. He wasn’t a bad kid. He was a little bugger when he wanted to be. I don’t think it was ever malicious, though, do you?”

  I shrugged my shoulders, trying to ignore the way I’d begun to tremble. My entire body worked on stopping myself from bursting into tears. The pressure of taking care of my damaged son was getting to me. The exhaustion had seeped into every one of my muscles, but I wouldn’t admit it at the time. Looking back now, I know I should have asked for more help, but I was stubborn, and I was determined to try and keep in control. The problem was that in trying so desperately to stay in control, I couldn’t see that I was destined to lose it.

  “Do you remember that camping trip to Brittany?” Rob asked.

  I nodded, still gripping my tea to stop my hands from shaking. I was only half listening to him at this point.

  “We went with Josie and Hugh. Oh boy, the hours of driving with Aiden cooped up in the car. I thought my eardrums were going to burst. Hugh had brought that huge tent with the little windows and the open porch bit at the front, and we ate nothing but sausages and beans for the week. Anyway, do you remember that prank Aiden pulled on the German couple two tents down?”

  I shook my head. The entire week was a blur. Josie and Hugh were beginning their rocky descent into a bad marriage, and Josie and I spent the week chugging Chardonnay. No matter how many times I tried to extricate myself from Josie’s binging, she managed to pull me back in. Needless to say, Rob and Hugh were the responsible adults that week.

  What I did remember was laughing. Aiden would stay up late with us at night and we’d sit around the campfire chatting about everything and nothing. Hugh liked to entertain the group, telling stories of his early years in an all-boy’s public school. I’d put my hands over Aiden’s ears as he told us about walking in on the other boys’ improprieties. He had us in stitches telling us stories with funny posh accents and silly faces.

  “Do you remember how the campsite had that stupid little flagpole with the French flag on it? The thing was about half the size of a normal pole. Well, Aiden stole a couple of bras from the German woman’s tent and shimmied up the thing to tie them onto the pole. The poor woman was so large that those bras just started flapping in the wind.”

  “Why don’t I remember this? Jesus, how old was he then?”

  “Just over five,” Rob said. “He was definitely a monkey.”

  Though Rob appeared to be delighted by his son’s naughtiness, I didn’t feel the same way. Why didn’t I remember him acting like that? I had a highlights reel in my mind of Aiden being a sweet, intelligent little boy. But there was more to him. He could be naught
y. He used to steal things when he was three. He’d grab chocolates from the supermarket aisles. But he didn’t put them in our trolley. I once caught him sneaking them into a stranger’s trolley when they weren’t looking. I caught him at it, told him off, and forgot all about it until Amy’s article brought some of Aiden’s naughtier acts back to me. Was that normal behaviour for a three year old? I couldn’t help but wonder if I was now actively trying to find examples of him being bad.

  “Is everything okay?” Rob asked.

  “Fine,” I lied.

  “How’s Josie doing? Any news from Hugh?”

  “I haven’t called her.” I finally let go of the mug to run my warm hands over my face. It was shameful that I hadn’t been in touch with my best friend after her messy break-up.

  “Why don’t we look after Aiden for a few hours so you can go and see her,” Rob suggested. “You’ve had Aiden 24/7 since his release. You need a break.”

  At that moment, a few hours away from Aiden sounded like pure bliss. As much as I wanted complete control over everything around my damaged son, I needed some time away from him. I needed room to breathe.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely.”

  I was already off my chair and searching for my car keys.

  31

  After a quick phone call, Josie told me she was in, and that she hadn’t been at work for a number of days. Even though I’d asked her to promise me she’d go to work, I’d expected as much. In all honesty, if Jake left me without a word I wouldn’t bother with work either. So I hopped into my car and drove across the village and up the winding hill towards the Barratts’ home. It was warm enough to leave the house without a jacket, which was unusual for mid-October, and the blue sky above seemed almost superficial, or at the very least, fleeting. I was waiting for dark clouds to plunge us into darkness. While I’d been going through hell, the weather had mostly been fair and mild, belying my own stormy disposition.

  Yet another way the world decided to betray me.

  I took it steady around the narrow roads, pulling in warily when meeting other cars.

  The Barratt home seemed eerily serene when I parked the car. The mild weather meant Josie’s yellow pansies were still in bloom in pretty pots around the front door. But my gaze did not linger on them. I found it difficult to look at anything beautiful during those weeks.

  Josie answered the door after the first knock. Her large blue eyes were red-rimmed and I noticed that she clutched her mobile phone in one hand. She was wearing leggings and an oversized jumper.

  “I’m so sorry I didn’t come earlier,” I said.

  “Are you kidding?” she replied. “I’m ashamed for not coming to you. I mean, I know you said you wanted space and that you were fine, but still. With everything you’re dealing with, my problem is tiny.”

  “Have you heard from him?”

  Josie sighed and led the way through her house to the kitchen. Her messy bun bobbed up and down as she dragged her feet over the carpet. Her body was loose and lazy, but it almost seemed like an act, as though deep down she was in real turmoil. I knew her well enough to know that she dealt with stress by trying to pretend it wasn’t happening, or at the very least pretending she was fine with it all. Josie was a ‘fake it ’til you make it’ person. She wanted to see the bright side, but I wondered whether, when she was on her own at night, it really worked.

  “Nothing. Not even a text. But guess what? He posted something on Facebook.”

  “What?”

  She nodded, gesturing to an open laptop on the breakfast bar. Hugh’s profile was on the screen. For the first time I realised that he’d updated his profile picture. It used to be a photograph of him and Josie on a skiing holiday, but now it was a solo picture of him smiling on top of a jet ski. Next to his profile picture was a status where he had ‘checked in’ to the McCarran airport in Las Vegas.

  “What?” I said again. “What on earth is he doing there?”

  “I spoke to Steven again. Apparently he’s not replying to any messages from the family. Steven admitted that he knew about the affair but not the extent of it all. I bet they’re gambling through our money as we speak. Damn it, Emma, why did you have to be pregnant right now? I need a stiff drink.”

  “Hey, I won’t judge you.” I smiled. It felt good to talk about any other topic than the investigation with Aiden. “This all seems so out of character, though. Has he taken off like this before?”

  “That’s the thing,” Josie said. Her eyes lit up with the glitter of anger. “Steven said that he has done this before, not that I knew about it. He took some receptionist to Cornwall for a dirty weekend.” She uncorked a bottle of Malbec and began to pour.

  “Fuck.” I glanced around the kitchen searching for evidence with how Josie was coping. Most people would be relieved that there weren’t any Chinese takeaway cartons or dirty dishes in the sink. The place was pristine, which was somewhat disconcerting. Had the weight of her husband’s activities truly hit her? “I’m so sorry, Jo.”

  She shrugged. “I knew it was coming. Deep down, I honestly think I’m relieved.” She took a gulp of the Malbec. “Don’t look at me with those big puppy-dog eyes. I know you think I’m going to go off the rails, but there’s nothing to worry about.”

  “Are you sure, because—”

  “It’s all in the past.” Josie set her wine glass down on the kitchen side with a finality that warned me not to delve into the murky past I was about to bring up. “Now, what can I get you? Herbal tea? Sparkling water?”

  I groaned. “What I’d give for a nice gin and tonic. Or a measure of whisky.” I lifted my fingers and pinched them together. “I was this close to opening a bottle of vodka the day Aiden came home. And then this week has got worse and worse. Did you see they’d arrested the duke?”

  “Arsehole,” she said with real venom. “Do you think he…” She swallowed, uncertain whether to say it or leave the implication hanging.

  “I honestly don’t know, and that’s the worst of it. I just want the person who hurt Aiden to be behind bars. I want all of this to be over.”

  She nodded. “Well, I always thought he was a shifty fucker. Don’t worry, Em. If he did it, the police will find the evidence and they’ll put him away. What are they doing for the investigation now?”

  “Well, apparently they’re searching the surrounding area for any suspicious outbuildings or old shelters that could have been converted into a prison. But DCI Stevenson told me that there aren’t always records for some of these old buildings, and the woods are really dense so it’s hard going. Most of their resources have been taken up looking into the duke. It took them ages to search Wetherington and they’re going through all the images on his computer.” What I didn’t say was that they were looking for images of Aiden on his computer. I didn’t say it because it made me feel ill.

  “They’ll find him, Emma. I know they will.” Josie reached across and took hold of my hand. She squeezed my hand and then leaned away, frowning. “Is there something else wrong? You seem a bit peaky.”

  “It’s going to sound really stupid.”

  She laughed. “I bet it won’t. Remember that time I thought Argentina was in Europe?”

  “Oh yeah, that was pretty stupid.”

  “Can’t be worse than that, can it?” she offered.

  “It’s Aiden. He’s been acting really strangely recently and I’m worried.”

  “How do you mean?”

  I settled into the stool at Josie’s breakfast bar. “Well, I never expected him to be fine after everything he’s been through. Of course he will have been affected by the trauma of what he’s been through, but I’m starting to wonder whether I’m going to need help with him. Whether I can’t cope. His behaviour has gotten a little… out of hand. First he decided to cut up the curtains with scissors. Then he cut up the mobile for the new baby and threw red paint into the crib.”

  “Oh shit, Emma. That’s scary.”

  “I k
now. Jake thinks it isn’t safe to bring a newborn home with Aiden here, but I just can’t bring myself to send him away.”

  “Well, that’s understandable. He was taken away from you.”

  “But I’m beginning to think that maybe Jake is right. Maybe I can’t cope with Aiden and maybe I’m being selfish by pretending I can.”

  “Being selfish about what? Emma, you are the least selfish person I know.”

  “If I’m putting Jake and my unborn child in danger because I can’t let go of my son, then that’s selfish, isn’t it?”

  Josie swallowed another mouthful of wine. “I wouldn’t say it’s selfish. But if you’re afraid of Aiden, you need to get some help. Jake might be right about it not being safe for your newborn with Aiden around. It isn’t Aiden’s fault and it isn’t your fault. It’s the bastard who took him’s fault.”

  “Do you remember him having behavioural problems when he was little? I can only remember the good things, but maybe that’s because of what happened to him. I think I’m blanking on anything bad because I can’t stand to think about it.”

  Josie sighed. “Honestly? Hugh had more patience with him than I did. Don’t get me wrong, he was a lot of fun, but he was a bit… tiring.”

  “And?” I prompted, sensing that there was something she wasn’t saying.

  “He was a bit moody, Em. He used to have tantrums quite a bit.”

  I frowned. I remembered him throwing a wobbly in a supermarket once but he was never that bad. I was getting to the point where I couldn’t trust my own mind. Why did I keep pruning away the bad times?

  An hour later I left Josie’s house and made my way down the gravel drive to my car. The wind had whipped up, and it howled through the Rough Valley Forest below. I turned my head towards the second hill overlooking Bishoptown. There it was: Wetherington House, standing tall and proud above the village. At one time the village was owned by the Duke of Hardwick, though the family had sold much of the land since those days. The house had been closed to the public since the police inquiry, but I knew there was a good entrance at the rear of the property because I’d once snuck in with Rob. It was a dare we’d had while drinking Lambrini on the grounds of the house.