The Quiet Girls: An absolutely addictive mystery thriller

by J. M. Hewitt

  ‘Victoria Prout was leading the vigilante attack outside Ganju’s house,’ Carrie informed him. ‘You should see the mess: eggs broken all over the windows, paint, petrol cans.’ Carrie shuddered, remembering. ‘It wasn’t him,’ she said. ‘It wasn’t Ganju. He wasn’t in the country, we checked up on his travel details.’

  ‘Shall we pay a visit to the Prout family?’ Paul suggested.

  Carrie nodded grimly.

  ‘If this is about the other night, I didn’t do anything.’ Victoria led them into her spotless, new-build semi-detached house, heels clicking on the parquet flooring. Carrie stared after her, wondering who wore heels in the middle of the day at home. Perhaps the woman was going out.

  ‘I hope we’re not disturbing you, are you on the way out anywhere?’ she asked, politely.

  Victoria appraised Carrie coolly. ‘No, I have an hour until I go to Pilates at the leisure centre.’

  Carrie suppressed a smile. ‘We were hoping to talk to Kelly. In spite of what you might think, we’re eager to try and find out exactly what happened to Kelly and I’d like to know if anyone else was with her.’

  Victoria’s hand came up to her chest; she twisted the long chain she was wearing, dragging it through her fingers. ‘Kelly’s at school,’ she said eventually. ‘And Tanisha would have been with her, but I wouldn’t expect too much from her mother.’

  Paul, across the room studying the photos that adorned the lounge wall, looked over his shoulder. ‘Why not?’ he asked.

  Victoria shrugged. Tanisha’s mother is… carefree with raising her kids. There’re too many of them to keep a close eye on, if you know what I mean.’

  ‘They run wild?’ Carrie asked.

  ‘Pretty much. Tanisha’s a nice kid but the father is unemployed, mother is the opposite end of the scale, working all the hours God sends. The kids are left to fend for themselves.’

  Carrie pinched her lips together, a scenario of the family running through her mind. The dad, on the sofa all day, cans of beer by his side, the mother working three jobs, in a factory, in a restaurant, cleaning, maybe, all hours of day and night just to make ends meet. Just like her own mother, thought Carrie, minus a husband. She pulled a page from her notebook, passed it across to Victoria along with a pen.

  She clicked on her phone, copied a number on the pad and pushed it back across the table. ‘You can understand that I don’t want this happening again, right? These are kids, it’s our job to protect them.’

  ‘And it’s our job to protect the community.’ As Victoria reached out to take the pen, Carrie held onto it until the other woman’s eyes met hers. ‘No more hanging around outside Ganju Bandari’s home, okay?’

  Victoria’s eyes flashed for a moment. Finally she nodded. ‘All right,’ she murmured.

  Tanisha’s mother, Carol, a harassed-looking woman with two toddlers hanging onto her legs, wasn’t as forthcoming as Victoria Prout had turned out to be. Behind her, inside the house, more children screamed and shouted unseen.

  ‘Kelly hasn’t been round lately,’ she said, one arm clinging to the doorframe as the little ones at her feet did their best to unbalance her. ‘Tanisha’s not back from school yet, she has to be back by dark though,’ she said, her eyes wide at her last words, as if realising suddenly who was on her doorstep. ‘She’s not in trouble, is she?’

  ‘No, not at all,’ smiled Carrie. ‘We just want to talk to her about an alleged incident which happened a couple of weeks ago.’

  ‘The paedo in Eccles?’ Carol frowned, slapped absently at the hands of her children. ‘I heard about it, that Prout woman was on the phone, screaming bloody murder. I spoke to Tanisha, she said she didn’t go inside the house, only heard about it when Kelly ran out.’

  Carrie suppressed a sigh as she handed over her card. ‘We’d really like to speak to Tanisha, just to find out what she saw, what she heard, if anything.’ She saw the sudden fear in Carol’s eyes. ‘Don’t worry, she’s not in trouble, we just want to make sure our streets are safe, you understand that, right?’

  Carol nodded, reversing awkwardly back inside, clutching Carrie’s card in her fist.

  When the door closed, Carrie turned to Paul. ‘We’re not far from Ganju’s house, let’s head over there, check everything’s okay on the way back to the station.’

  Paul nodded, snatched up the keys from Carrie’s hand. ‘I’ll drive,’ he smiled.

  She grabbed them back. ‘I’ll drive,’ she said, softening her words with a smile.

  ‘Big difference between those two mothers,’ he commented as they pulled away with a final glance towards Carol’s home. ‘Victoria wasn’t kidding when she said Carol had a lot of kids.’

  ‘I know, right?’ Carrie huffed out a laugh. ‘Victoria and Carol would never be friends, but that’s the nice thing about kids, they don’t see each other that way.’

  ‘Carol reminded me of my mother,’ Paul said, a smile playing around his lips. ‘All the kids liked coming to my house; regardless of how many of them were there, Mum would always make sure everyone was fed.’ He glanced back at Carol’s house. Carrie noticed the faraway look in his eyes before he blinked, looked back at her. ‘What about you, what was your house like, growing up? Filled with kids, or was yours more a Prout household?’

  Carrie gripped the steering wheel, saw her knuckles turn white. Her home flashed across her mind, not the home of her childhood but the home after her innocence had been snatched away. The silence, the darkness when the electricity went off and the cold when the gas bill wasn’t paid. The slumped, immobile form of her mother, in the chair, or, on really bad days, on the floor, curled up foetal-like. The only moving part of her mother her hands as she clenched and unclenched her fists, grabbing on to a memory of a daughter who was no longer there.

  Carrie forced herself to relax her fingers until the blood flowed freely again. ‘Just me,’ she said. ‘Just me and my mother.’

  He was going to carry on the conversation, she saw it, knew it, because he was relaxed and friendly in nature. And she had to stop him, because that was why she liked working with Paul, because things never got personal, and she didn’t want him to ruin that.

  ‘Put Ganju’s address in the satnav,’ she said, even though she knew the way. Anything to get him off track.

  He sensed it, by the silence and the atmosphere that surrounded the sudden wall she’d put up.

  He did as she said, falling back in his seat, saying no more about Victoria, or Carol, or his own happy family.

  18

  ‘Right.’ Harry clapped his hands, turned in a full circle to study his subjects.

  That was how it seemed to Alice, and she cringed. Liz stood to her left, swaying slightly, and Alice reached out a hand. ‘You all right, Liz?’

  The other woman seemed to take an eternity to acknowledge Alice, and when she did, she gave a barely perceptible nod of her head. Alice faced Harry again.

  ‘The rain has stopped, we need to make sure we don’t have another night like last night. I’m sure you’ll all agree that spending the previous twelve hours without heat and running water was unpleasant.’ Harry stopped, surveyed the little group again before correcting himself. ‘It wasn’t unpleasant, it was a lesson.’ He gestured to the bottled water in his hand. ‘These won’t last forever.’

  Alice felt her face flushing with heat. She glanced at Melanie, but Melanie seemed in a world of her own, her eyes fixed on the twins. Alice followed her daughter’s gaze. The twins demanded to be observed, she realised. Like an extreme work of art or an animal behind bars in a zoo. What was it about them? They were beautiful beings, she realised. Stunning in their physique, both tall and lean and pale. Their hair was a kind of ordinary brown, which could be boring but just… wasn’t. It was the kind of colour that Alice herself sought relentlessly to cover her blonde hair, a shade she could never quite find in a bottle. Their faces were flawless, skin that was clear and healthy looking, matching noses that were straight and a perfect size. It was
their eyes, though, Alice realised. Eyes of a slate grey that seemed to see so much deeper that her own ordinary eyes. They were still, unmoving, often silent, but always observing.

  Alice let out a little sigh. The pair of them really were extraordinary.

  Another clap from Harry brought her back to the present.

  ‘We have a lot of ground to cover. We need to see what is on this island that we can use to live.’ He held up a hand, one finger pointing up in the air. ‘Not just live, not just survive…’ he paused dramatically, ‘but thrive!’

  ‘Oh Jesus,’ whispered Alice.

  Gabe, opposite her in the circle, caught her eye. He grinned wickedly, offered her a wink. She smothered a smile in return.

  An ally, against Harry and his dramatics that for some bizarre reason nobody else seemed to find amusing.

  ‘Freshwater streams, clear, running water. Alice and Lenon, you’re in charge of finding that.’ Harry ushered the two to stand together. Alice made her way over to stand by the twins.

  ‘Because as well as finding what we need to, this is going to be a “get to know you” exercise too. Melanie, you’re with Willow and Gabe, and firewood and stores is your project. It doesn’t matter if you can’t carry it back, just remember where it is. Liz and I are searching for food. Pools that might be big enough to hold fish, rabbits we can snare or net for meat; edible plants. Anything that will give us sustenance.’

  Alice looked over at Liz, expecting a look of distaste. But Liz remained stoic, a little nod of her head the only sign she’d actually heard Harry.

  Harry moved between each group, handing out a bottle of water each. ‘Back before it gets dark, everyone. We’ll meet here, and I’ve got something special planned as a thank you for all your hard work.’

  Alice raised her eyes in Lenon’s direction. In return he offered her a polite smile before turning to his sister. ‘Coming?’ he asked.

  Melanie jogged up beside them. ‘Willow is in my group,’ she said.

  Lenon regarded Melanie through sleepy-looking eyes. ‘I don’t think we need to worry too much about groups.’

  Melanie stood her ground. ‘My dad did this because he wants everyone to get to know one another. If we stay with the people we know, that won’t happen.’ Melanie flicked a glance at Willow. ‘He’s worked hard coming up with this idea, it would be nice if we do this for him, and then we’ll all meet up later and exchange all the information on what we found individually.’

  Alice stared at her daughter. It was a diplomatic speech, and Alice the lawyer was impressed. Melanie was all Harry, that much was and always had been glaringly obvious.

  Gabe stepped up to the group. ‘Ready?’ He smiled at Willow and Melanie in turn.

  Melanie hooked her arm determinedly through Willow’s. ‘Ready,’ she confirmed. ‘See you later,’ she called to Alice, and with a little wave the three of them walked away.

  ‘I guess it’s just us, then.’ Alice turned to Lenon with a smile.

  He nodded, an expression on his face unreadable to Alice. ‘Let’s get this done,’ he muttered, and marched off in the opposite direction to the one the others had taken.

  Beyond the cottages were the woods, so Gabe told them as they walked. Melanie wondered how he knew, had he too done his research on the island, like Harry had? Or had he gone off last night, once everyone had gone to bed, to explore on his own? Melanie risked a glance at him. Did he know his son and daughter slept in the same bed? And why, when Harry had given them the bigger cottage so they would have three bedrooms? She looked at Willow, at Willow’s arm which she still held, the same arm that had held her brother close last night. Gently, she disengaged herself from the girl. Willow didn’t appear to notice as they walked steadily on.

  It was bigger than she’d thought, the copse. Daylight vanished three or four trees in. There was no footpath like in the woods back home, or the forests she’d visited before. It was true wilderness here. The branches were bare, except for a few evergreens. She looked down as she walked, expecting the twigs to crack underfoot. Instead, as she stepped on them, they vanished into a carpet of thick, slushy earth. Willow and Gabe walked to her right, the older man stopping every now and then to inspect something on the forest floor. He picked up sticks, declared them too wet, or ‘sodden through’ as he put it, before flinging them away.

  ‘It rained really hard last night,’ said Melanie. ‘Maybe under the firs, where the branches protected the earth we’ll find some wood we can use.’

  Gabe stopped, scratched his head. ‘Wood needs to be seasoned to burn well,’ he said. ‘Really, I’d be expecting to be collecting for next winter, with this season’s stores all built up. I thought Harry might have considered that.’

  Melanie frowned, hating hearing her father talked about in a negative fashion.

  ‘Don’t get me wrong, Harry’s a good man.’ Gabe picked his way over to walk beside Melanie. She wondered if he had seen the expression on her face. ‘But he’s no boy scout.’ He smiled at her, a winning, white-toothed grin. ‘But perhaps that was what he had in mind; a challenge for us all. We’ve got a good team, we’ll make it work, right?’ He reached out his hand, thin and tanned, and Willow moved in to stand between them.

  ‘Not if we stand around talking,’ she said as she put an arm around Melanie’s shoulders. ‘Come on, there must be some dry wood around here somewhere.’

  ‘Do you have any idea where the water is?’ Alice asked Lenon. The silence had been too long, had gone on since they’d left the cottages, and she was beginning to feel uncomfortable, buried in the quiet. ‘There’s the water we came in by, of course.’

  ‘We can’t drink that.’ Lenon’s words were quiet, and he didn’t look at her, instead remained facing forward as they walked. ‘It isn’t safe for drinking. We’re looking for a stream, a small river, that’s free flowing.’

  Somehow she felt chastised. Mocked in an extremely subtle way by a boy half her age.

  ‘Well, maybe one of the others will come across one on their jobs they were given.’

  No response.

  ‘Your father, probably. He seems very capable,’ she tried again.

  He gave her a look, loaded with something she couldn’t discern. ‘He’s not my father,’ he said.

  ‘Oh.’ Alice waited for more, but he offered up nothing else. ‘How long has he been with your mother?’

  ‘Ten years,’ came the reply.

  ‘Ah, so he’s been in your life a long time. Do you have contact with your real—’

  ‘What is this, question time?’

  He didn’t shout, he didn’t even raise his voice, but Alice flinched nonetheless.

  ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,’ she said softly.

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’ He stopped at the top of a little hill, looked up and to the left. ‘This way.’

  They walked on in silence, and this time Alice didn’t mind. So Lenon and talk of his father was a no-go area. That was fine by her. On and on they went, until she stopped, leaned over and breathed in deeply.

  ‘Where are we going?’ she asked, panting slightly, horrified at how unfit she was.

  ‘Water’s this way.’ He came back to stand by her. For once he didn’t seem off or annoyed, and for that she was grateful.

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Do you see over there.’ He pointed, a general area. Alice looked, but all she saw were trees and little grassy patches broken up by large bushes.

  ‘See what?’

  ‘Just beyond those brambles, the grass. See how green and thick it is?’

  She turned back to look, stared again at where he pointed. ‘I see,’ she said slowly.

  ‘Vegetation grows like that if it’s near a water source. And these, I’ve been following these for the last twenty minutes.’ He went into a crouch, smoothed his hand in the hard, muddy ground.

  For a long moment she saw nothing apart from the mud, then, at long last, the shape revealed itself.

  �
�A footprint, of an animal!’ She crouched down, grinned up at him. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Rabbit, probably. Or a hare.’ He offered her a smile in return and it changed his whole face. ‘Nothing too sinister. No bears or lions.’

  His little joke, as lame as it was, washed away how his earlier angry tone had made her feel.

  ‘Good job, Lenon,’ she said, pushing herself to her feet. ‘Come on then, let’s see this water.’

  ‘Have you ever eaten rabbit?’

  Liz, shuffling along beside Harry, didn’t appear to have heard him. He cleared his throat, waited for her to glance at him, or say something.

  Nothing.

  ‘Or pigeon pie? Ha!’ He tried again. Liz remained impassive, making her way forward, slowly, too slow for Harry’s natural gait. He shuffled around, tried to slow down. ‘Of course, if I’d have thought about it, I could have brought some chickens over, we could have used their eggs, the meat.’ Harry smacked his hand against his forehead. ‘Why didn’t I think of that? Everyone likes chicken and eggs.’ He paused, stroked his hand over his chin. ‘If the guys find a stream, we’ll have a hearty diet of fish,’ he smiled. ‘And rabbits,’ he said, stopping for a moment to peer at what looked suspiciously like rabbit droppings by his feet. ‘There’ll be plenty of rabbits.’

  He looked up as Liz shuffled silently past him, moving on, seemingly unseeing, uncaring. Not even looking for signs of wildlife. Not interested in conversing with him, even though the whole idea of this was to break the ice and get to know each other.

  Had he ever heard her talk? He thought back to their previous meetings, the dinner party in which she’d been silent.

  He waited, watched as she moved over the crest of a small hill and descended the other side until only her head was visible before walking on himself.

  It didn’t take very long to catch up to her slow, shuffling amble.