THE SILENCE OF THE STONES: Will the secrets written in the stones destroy a young woman's world? The runes are cast. Who will die?

by Rebecca Bryn

  He pulled a chair round to face her and slumped into it. Greg pushed his coffee towards him. ‘You sure? Thanks. I finished my shift a couple of hours ago but… I feel involved. We called off the search at dawn, obviously. There was a massive cheer when they heard Saffy had been found.’

  ‘Please tell everyone how grateful I am. To you, as well.’

  ‘All in a day’s work... Tell me, what happened up there?’

  ‘I’m not sure. It was weird. Rhiannon tried to stab Saffy and Tony stopped her. She stabbed him trying to fight him off.’

  ‘You identified Rhiannon as the woman who lives in Coed-y-Cwm, in the house that caught fire. You said Nerys and Rhiannon had Saffy when you phoned in. Did you see Nerys?’

  ‘No. I only saw Rhiannon, but she was behaving very oddly, almost as if she were fighting an invisible foe.’

  Greg frowned. ‘Do we even know my mother is involved in this?’

  DC Flowers pursed his lips. ‘We found a sort of diary in the wreckage of Rhiannon’s kitchen. It looks as if she wasn’t living alone.’

  ‘So we could be right about Nerys living with her sister?’

  ‘It’s not that simple. We ran checks on Rhiannon Jones, Nerys’ sister. She emigrated to New Zealand, in her late teens, and married a Ted Rawlings.’

  Maddy leaned forward. ‘She came back, maybe when she heard Nerys had been released?’

  ‘She died out there, two years ago.’

  Greg frowned. ‘I don’t understand.

  ‘It could be your mother took her sister’s identity, to avoid being hounded by the press. Or to hide her identity from those who testified against her so she could get her revenge.’ He shrugged tiredly. ‘It’s speculation at this stage. We’ll know more when she’s fit to interview.’

  She tried to get her brain to concentrate. ‘You’re saying Rhiannon is Nerys?’

  ‘It’s very possible.’

  Greg sighed. ‘What will happen to her?’

  ‘She’s in a secure unit. The psychiatrists will talk to her as soon as. We’ll have a better idea of what’s been going on then.’

  ‘And Alana’s mother?’ Maddy had asked the question she hadn’t wanted to ask. ‘What will happen to her?’

  ‘She’s in custody. She’s not being too co-operative.’

  ‘Why doesn’t that surprise me?’ Mum! Where was her brain? ‘Did the hospital contact you about Saffy’s medical records?’

  ‘Yes. It’s about the only thing your mother did co-operate about. They seemed happy with the answers we passed on to them.’

  ‘Thank God. And Dad?’

  ‘Now, he’s been very co-operative.’ He looked from her to Greg and back again. ‘We need to verify what he’s told us.’ He struggled to his feet. ‘I’m glad you found your little girl. I hope Mr Maskell pulls through.’

  ‘Can you find out how he is, DC Flowers? The nurses here are run off their feet.’

  He sat down again and spoke into his radio. ‘Sarge. I’m at Cardiff. Yeah, I know. Saffy Harper’s in intensive care. Do you know how Tony Maskell’s doing?’

  She strained to hear the reply but DC Flowers nodded. ‘Okay. Thanks, Sarge. He’s had an operation to remove his spleen. He’s still unconscious but the op went well. Two officers are waiting to speak to him when he comes round.’

  She let out a deep sigh. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘I’d better get off. The missus’ll have my guts for garters. I’ll be in touch when we know more. I’ll need to speak to you too, Mr Anderson, this concerns both of you.’ DC Flowers walked away, his shoulders sagging with fatigue.

  Greg reached across Maddy and touched her hand. ‘Alana, what’s happened... Your mum, my mum. It’s all in the past, yeah?’

  She managed a grateful smile and put her hand over his. ‘Yeah. All in the past.’

  ***

  Alana put a thumb in Saffy’s palm and stroked her fingers. The monitor bleeped steadily, the lines of her heartbeat regular: the figures that monitored blood pressure and sats, fluctuated slightly from minute to minute. The nurses didn’t appear concerned. Saffy had more colour in her cheeks.

  A grey-haired man in a dark suit was allowed in. The nurse nodded in his direction. ‘That’s the paediatric consultant.’

  The consultant read Saffy’s charts and spoke to the nurses before introducing himself. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner, Miss Harper. Saffy’s doing well. Her core temperature is rising at a rate of about one degree centigrade an hour. By late this afternoon, she should be back up to normal. Her urine output and blood results are what we’d expect, given her present condition. Her BP is looking good, her cardiac rhythm has improved and her heart-rate is up. Everything’s going in the right direction. I want to keep her sedated a bit longer or she may try to fight the ventilator as she warms. Once her core temperature’s back to normal we’ll reduce the sedation and take her off the ventilator. See if she can breathe for herself.’

  ‘And if she can’t?’

  ‘We’ll re-intubate her and support her breathing until she can.’

  ‘Do you think she’ll have suffered brain damage?’

  ‘It’s too soon to say, I’m afraid, but outcomes for hypothermia patients are often quite good. The cold can protect the brain.’ He replaced the notes on the end the cot and moved to his next patient.

  She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. The wait until she knew if Saffy would be alright was going to be excruciating.

  ***

  Three o’clock, eight hours since Saffy had been bundled into the Air Ambulance. She’d been slowly weaned from her sedation and Alana had watched her face for any sign of consciousness. So far she hadn’t detected a movement.

  The nurse checked the monitors again and fetched a trolley with a tray of instruments on it. ‘I’ll need you to stand back. I’m going to take her off the ventilator. See how she does.’

  She watched anxiously as the nurse removed the tubes from Saffy’s nose. Another nurse bent over Saffy, obscuring her view. She had to know. ‘Is she breathing?’

  There was a long silence. ‘Sats are falling. Oxygen.’

  ‘Is she okay?’

  ‘Sats rising. Good. That’s better. She’s breathing.’

  ‘When will she wake up?’

  ‘Shouldn’t be long. You can sit with her.’

  ‘Saffy?’ Her fingers were so tiny: she looked so small and helpless… a sudden slight movement made her jump. ‘She squeezed my hand. Saffy? Saffy…’ Would she know her? Would she even be able to see or hear her?

  Long, dark lashes flickered. Brown eyes stared and tried to focus.

  ‘Hi, Saffy. Mummy’s here.’

  Saffy’s bottom lip wobbled. ‘Want Nana.’

  She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. In the end she did both.

  The nurse laughed, too. ‘Looks like she hasn’t sustained brain damage.’

  ‘Maybe we’ll see Nana, soon.’ It was a small white lie. Whatever Mum had done, she was all of Saffy’s short life. If Mum ended up in jail, Saffy would forget her, in time, like she’d forgotten Siân and Dafydd. Whether that would be for the best, was a decision for the future. ‘How long will she have to be in hospital?’

  ‘We’ll have to monitor her closely for several days. I’d say it’ll be a week, at least, before she can go home. We’ll move her to the children’s ward, probably tomorrow.’

  A week before she could see Tony. She looked at her daughter, wanting to pick her up and cuddle her. It was Nana Saffy had asked for. Nana she missed.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Saffy was allowed home after a week. Maddy and Greg had asked for a child seat to be fitted in the hire car and had fetched them, calling to see Tony en-route. Tony had been moved to the High Dependency Unit, still wired and plumbed in as he put it. He’d looked pale and ill, but having the air ambulance only minutes away when he was stabbed had saved his life. She couldn’t have held the wound closed much longer.

  Saffy played wi
th her new toys on the floor. She’d bought her wax crayons, as well, but all she’d done was scribble on the walls, and try to eat the red and orange ones. Maybe she’d take to painting murals, or cooking colourful food.

  One eye on her daughter, she packed new pyjamas and a couple of paperbacks to take in to Tony. John Grisham and Sarah Stuart. Romance, as in Dangerous Liaisons, might not be his cup of tea but the title was appropriate, and she’d really enjoyed reading it. The phone rang and she rushed to answer it, heart thudding. Suppose he’d had a relapse.

  ‘Miss Harper? DC Flowers.’

  She breathed easier. ‘How are you?’

  ‘I’m okay, thanks for asking. I have an update on our investigations. I’d like to talk you through it.’

  She bent to remove half a green crayon from Saffy’s mouth. ‘I’m about to go to Cardiff to visit Tony. I’ll be at the hospital most of the day.’

  ‘I need to speak to him. I can meet you there, if it’s easier. Say two o’ clock?’

  ‘Visiting is two till four. I’d like Greg to hear what you have to say.’

  ‘And I want to talk to you both together, if I can. I’ll see if he can make it.’

  ‘Have to go, Saffy’s trying to climb onto the table.’ She put down the phone and made a mental note to build her a climbing frame in the garden: grass was softer than stone. Determined to be the good mother she’d promised Saffy she’d be, she’d begun sorting the spare bedroom for her, and the garage had already fitted a child seat in the back of Minnie.

  Two o’ clock saw her hurrying through the main doors of the hospital, a bag slung over her shoulder, and Saffy on one hip cuddling a brand new teddy. Greg and Maddy were coming out of HDU.

  ‘What’s up?’

  ‘Don’t panic.’ Greg smiled in greeting. ‘They’ve moved him down onto a ward. That has to be good news.’

  They found Tony, sitting up in bed, chatting to the man in the next bed. She gave him a careful hug. ‘You’re looking better. How’s the pain?’

  ‘Not so bad, as long as I don’t breathe. Good to see you. Greg, Maddy...’

  She found a chair and sat down. Saffy climbed on her lap and put one arm around her neck, the other cuddling her brand-new teddy. She’d been clingy since she’d come out of hospital and coming here had obviously brought back memories. ‘Has DC Flowers been in?’

  ‘No, but I’ve answered a load of questions from some other officers. They couldn’t tell me much, though.’

  ‘He rang me, earlier. Said he had an update.’

  Maddy nodded towards the door. ‘Here he is, now.’

  DC Flowers shook Tony by the hand. ‘You look better than you did last time I saw you.’

  ‘Tony gave a brief laugh, and winced. ‘Just as well. What’s this update?’

  ‘Now I’m here, it’s a job to know where to begin. Miss Harper, your mother, Gweneth, that is, finally confessed to kidnapping you. She’s likely to get a custodial sentence.’

  ‘And Dad?’

  ‘He’s being charged with perverting the course of justice and being an accessory to kidnap. It’s down to the judge. He may get away with a hefty fine but, given what he told me, he knew more than he let on.’

  Greg interrupted. ‘And Nerys?’

  ‘This is where it gets hard to explain. The psychologists have managed to piece together most of what happened, given that she was in a very distressed state. I can’t pretend to understand everything they told me. They’re happy to talk to you, though, both of you, to explain what they can.’

  ‘If you can tell us anything that will help make sense of this mess… Go on, please.’

  ‘As you know, Nerys was in Holloway, and was undergoing treatment there before she was released. She failed to keep appointments with her therapist once she was out. It seems things regressed.’

  ‘She is mentally ill, then?’

  ‘Their records go back some years. Nerys and her sister were both sexually abused by their father when they were small. Also, he would shut them in the cupboard under the stairs if he thought they’d been naughty. Apparently, in some serious abuse cases, a child will pretend it isn’t happening to them. Their subconscious protects them from the abuse, or the fear, by manufacturing an identity that can suffer the distress for them, while they, Nerys in this case, disassociates from what is happening to her.’

  ‘Like schizophrenia?’

  ‘No… it’s called Dissociative Identity Disorder, D.I.D for short.’ He frowned and scratched his head. ‘A person, let’s call her the host, can make a new identity to cope with any sort of pressure they may face. Some sufferers have a hundred or more different identities, some only two or three. It’s not a well-understood condition, but it seems Nerys has at least four alters.

  Greg pursed his lips. ‘What’s an alter?’

  ‘Alternative identity, I suppose. She has a child alter, called Lowrie, who is perpetually locked in that phase of her life, taking away those memories of abuse from Nerys. We think Rhiannon was formed to cope with the loss of Bethan.’

  ‘So Rhiannon was an alter who took the suffering for her.’

  ‘Yes, though it’s not that simple. The alter who is ‘out’, in other words in charge, takes over completely and the host has no control over, and often no knowledge of what they do. Sometimes the host doesn’t even know they have alters. They just think they’re suffering from amnesia or senility when they can’t remember where they are or what they’re doing there.’

  ‘You mean if Nerys… no, Rhiannon was responsible for the revenge deaths, Nerys couldn’t have controlled her?’

  ‘She may not even have known anything about it. She might have a gap in her life with no memory of what had happened.’

  Saffy tried to climb onto Tony’s bed. She lifted her up and she snuggled against Tony with her new bear, thumb in mouth, and closed her eyes. She still wasn’t completely recovered from her ordeal. ‘That must be awful.’

  ‘The identities can change several times an hour, or one can be in charge for years. Each identity is a complete personality. It has its own gestures, its own voice, likes and dislikes, abilities, and its own way of moving. They’re different ages and can even have different medical conditions.’

  She was intrigued. ‘How is that possible?’

  ‘No idea. I’m just repeating what I was told. They can fail to eat, use a body beyond its endurance.’

  ‘Is that how Rhiannon managed to carry Saffy? She was a younger woman?’

  ‘It would explain it. Some hosts get lost entirely. Therapy aims to make all the different identities aware of each other, so they can speak to one another, it’s called being co-conscious. Gradually they hope to absorb them all into one whole again. Some alters can be very resistant to therapy, knowing that, in effect, they’ll cease being. It’s a slow and difficult process. Nerys was co-conscious, though she still suffered from gaps in her life, but re-absorbing the personalities into one whole person was still a future dream for her therapist.’

  ‘Up in the stone circle… when I thought it looked as if Rhiannon was fighting with an invisible foe… She was fighting Nerys? At the last moment the blade went awry. Nerys stopped her alter stabbing Saffy. Is that possible?’

  ‘Not all alters work for the common good. Rhiannon may have had her own agenda. There are instances, apparently, where the alter of a loving, faithful husband, will have affairs the husband knows nothing about. It’s a very disruptive and destructive condition.’

  Greg looked thoughtful. ‘How do people live with that?’

  DC Flowers nodded. ‘It must be horrendous. Anyway, Nerys thought Saffy was Bethan. The maternal instinct to protect her over-rode Rhiannon’s grip on her mind. Rhiannon had got so strong, it seems Nerys had almost faded. Without Saffy to pull her back, she could have been lost forever.’

  Maddy chewed on a fingernail. ‘Did she know who the third body belonged to? Was that Rhiannon’s doing?’

  ‘This is where it becomes interesting, if a little
disturbing.’ He fiddled with his radio. ‘The psychs can only talk to whoever is ‘out’ at the time, so getting information can be a frustrating process, especially if the alter don’t feel like talking. However, while she was out, Nerys admitted to causing the death of the child and burying the body up on the moors. She had a mental breakdown and, after this, she retreated and let Rhiannon take over. It was Rhiannon who protected Nerys during the years in jail, and suffered incarceration for her. Rhiannon who wanted revenge for Nerys’ false imprisonment... I suppose for her own imprisonment.’

  ‘Could the child’s death have been an accident?’

  ‘It’s possible. When we can interview Nerys, properly, we’ll know more.’

  Greg wiped a hand across his face. ‘So, to all intents and purposes, Nerys could be innocent.’

  DC Flowers smiled sympathetically. ‘You could look at it that way. If it was an accidental death, all she did was fail to report a death and conceal the body.’

  She understood Greg’s desire to clutch at straws. She changed the subject. ‘So you do think these recent accidents weren’t accidents?’

  ‘We don’t know yet how Rhiannon managed to make them happen, but we’re pretty sure she arranged them somehow, and the fire at Mair Parry’s. Dai Parry told us Rhiannon visited him the evening of the fire. One of Rhiannon’s hairs was found on the door pillar of the car that went down the valley. It’s only a matter of time before the psychs get the truth out of her.’

  Maddy reiterated her earlier question. ‘Have you identified the third child?’

  Greg waved her aside. ‘And what about Bethan? Do any of my mother’s identities know what happened to my sister?’

  ‘One question at a time. I’m having trouble getting my head round this, myself. To answer the second question first, the psychs are pretty sure she doesn’t know what happened to Bethan.’

  Greg let out a sigh. ‘I’d hoped for closure, at least. A body to bury.’

  DC Flowers chewed his top lip and turned to her. ‘Your parents’ versions of events differed, Miss Harper. After what your father told us, we took samples from your mother and compared them to the body on the moor with a mitochondrial DNA test. Mitochondria is passed to a child from its mother unchanged, so Siân and your mother have the same mitochondria.’