Wall of Silence Page 7

  In fact, Melissa now realised with a sinking heart, she was due to be in this very spot the next day with Patrick and the girls as they looked at plans for the new well-being centre. That would need to be cancelled. Patrick would be gutted.

  There had been a lot of soul-searching about Patrick running to be a councillor: the extra hours he’d have to work on top of the time he already spent in his job as director for a marketing company, combined with his volunteer work for the forest centre. But when Melissa saw the sparkle in his eye when he’d learnt he’d got the ten signatures he needed to run – in fact, he got treble that – she knew he’d done the right thing. They’d all just need to adjust to the extra hours his campaigning had taken up lately and make the most of the free time Patrick had. Patrick would probably have to be withdrawn from the local elections now, considering his condition. After all that hard work too – he’d be devastated if he knew!

  Tears flooded her eyes. Her poor darling.

  Melissa sat on the bench, leaning her head against the bark of the tree and closing her eyes.

  ‘What do I do now, Mum?’ she whispered, imagining her mother standing before her with her waist-length golden hair. ‘How do I get the truth out of those grandchildren of yours? It’s so out of character for them. I’m sure they have their little secrets, all kids do. But this is huge. Do you think one of them did it, Mum?’ she asked out loud. ‘I know it’s crazy, but . . .’ She took in a deep breath. She couldn’t believe she was really contemplating it. But what other explanation could there be? Wasn’t there usually some kind of inkling, a hint of a deep-seated issue, for a child to do that to their parent?

  Melissa sighed, raking her fingers through her blonde hair. Other than Lewis’s occasional outbursts at school, the kids were pretty well adjusted. But then the twins had lived through their brother’s death . . . What had that done to them, losing their brother at such an early age?

  There was a crack of branches. She opened her eyes to see Ryan approaching in the distance, his terrier not far behind. She didn’t see him much nowadays, only on the doorstep of one of her neighbours’ houses when he was called out to check a tree overhanging their garden.

  He played a crucial role in Forest Grove’s fabric. Though living in a forest had many plusses, there were also many challenges. Trees had to be checked on a regular basis to ensure they didn’t fall down and harm residents. Alerts needed to be put out via the emergency text service Ryan had set up to warn of weather events, such as high winds, that might create safety concerns. There was a problem with wildlife too, from mice to rats, foxes and deer, something Ryan oversaw. He may not have been as sociable as other residents, living in the forest as he did and never attending events, but he was an essential part of life in the forest.

  Melissa took the opportunity to watch him before he caught sight of her. He was wearing his usual uniform of black cargo pants and his green forest ranger T-shirt, which revealed his scarred, muscled arms. His fair hair had grown since she’d last seen him, curling around his ears.

  He paused when he noticed her. She sat up and wiped her tears away as he strode over, his one-eyed dog bounding after him.

  ‘You okay?’ he asked when he got to her, his vivid blue eyes full of concern.

  ‘Not really,’ she admitted.

  He gestured over his shoulder. ‘Need to be alone?’

  She shook her head. ‘Please stay. I could do with the company.’

  Sandy appeared from a crop of trees then, jumping up at Ryan as Ryan’s dog let out a low growl.

  ‘As obedient as ever, I see, Sandy,’ Ryan said as he crouched down to stroke the Labrador. He peered up at Melissa. ‘How you holding up?’

  ‘Not great.’

  ‘The kids?’

  Melissa looked down at her fingers, scraping bark from beneath her nails. ‘Not great either.’

  She looked up again to see that he’d kept his eyes on hers, and she wondered if he could see the secrets and lies within them. He did have a knack of knowing what she was thinking. Or at least he used to, anyway. They’d been so close as kids when they lived in the forest together. Ryan had arrived first, after his mother passed away giving birth to him. They’d lived in a miserable town a hundred miles away originally, but when his dad took a job as a forest ranger, they moved into the woods, Ryan’s dad burying his grief in the trees . . . and in drink too. He’d let Ryan run feral among the trees, and though Ryan was fed and had a bed to sleep in, there was no proper sense of nurturing, especially when his dad took to drinking.

  They were living alone in the forest until Melissa moved there with her parents three years later. Her dad had lost his job as a lorry driver and fell behind on the mortgage repayments on the house he owned in Ashbridge, the nearest town. He found the dilapidated cottage a few minutes’ walk from Ryan and his dad’s lodge and bought it at auction.

  Melissa had loved it when she first saw it, all the graffiti on the walls and the big hole in the top floor exciting to her at the time. Her parents were excited too, her dad harbouring grand plans to turn it into the ‘most beautiful cottage in the woods you’ve ever seen’ and her mother finally able to live in the forest she felt so spiritually connected to. She’d grown up in the New Forest, brought up by her New Age parents there. When she’d met Melissa’s father and moved to Ashbridge with him, town life had stifled her. But being back in the forest seemed to calm her. As the months wore on, though, and the strain of doing up the cottage intensified, that dream grew more distant, and Melissa’s father’s angry outbursts more frequent too.

  So Melissa escaped into the woods one day as her parents argued, chasing deer and rabbits until she saw a muddy boy her age doing kung-fu moves on top of a tree trunk. His face was filthy, his fair hair long, his chest bare and muddy. Melissa thought he was the most fascinating thing she’d ever seen. That was it, they became firm friends then, their fathers striking up a form of camaraderie too when her parents finally came looking for her. As the years went on, and home got even tougher for the two of them, they found sanctuary in each other until the day Melissa had to leave the forest when she was fifteen, a year after she first saw Patrick.

  Melissa thought back to that day. Her parents had been arguing as usual, but this argument was bad, really bad. Her father had this look in his eyes she hadn’t seen before. Then he’d dragged Melissa down the stairs and slapped her right in front of her mother, saying, ‘Look at this mess, look at it!’ as he pointed to the remains of the baking session she and her mum had enjoyed earlier on.

  Her mum had got this steely look in her eyes then and turned to Melissa. ‘Run. Now.’

  So that was what she’d done. Her mum had always told her the best hiding place was the hollow in the old oak. It was like she’d been training her over the years for this very moment. So Melissa had run to the oak and squeezed inside. It felt like she was there for hours, but she found out later it was only twenty minutes before Rosemary had found her and taken her to their home. Turned out Melissa’s mother had managed to lock herself in the bathroom and call Bill, the only person she could trust, having got to know him over the past year while supplying him with herbal remedies.

  Despite being worried for her mum, Melissa had welcomed the warmth of Rosemary and Bill’s house, the sweet taste of the hot chocolate Rosemary made her. Then that glimpse of Patrick on the stairs in his pyjamas. Rosemary’s friends had turned up then: Jackie Shillingford, Debbie and Tommy Mileham’s wife, Megan, too. No men, though; even Bill wasn’t there. The women gathered around the kitchen table, fussing over Melissa and giving each other worried glances as Rosemary anxiously watched the dark trees outside.

  Eventually, there had been the sound of footsteps and the front door opened to reveal Bill . . . and Melissa’s mother. Her face was swollen with bruises and blood, and she looked sunken, eyes hollow. Melissa caught a glimpse of blood on her pretty nightdress before she quickly covered it with the coat Bill had lent her.

  It was decided Me
lissa and her mother would stay with the Byatts. Her father refused to allow them back into the cottage, his cottage by rights back then, considering it was in his name, even when he moved away.

  Ryan and Melissa barely saw each other after that, as Melissa got wrapped up in Forest Grove life while living at the Byatts’ with her mother. It was only when Daphne came on to the scene that Melissa saw him more around town. But it was different this time; they were wearing masks created by family life. The rawness had gone and, with it, the connection.

  ‘Has Maddy talked to Lilly?’ Melissa asked now. Though Maddy and Lewis didn’t talk as much since splitting up, she was still close to Lilly.

  Ryan nodded. ‘They’ve all been messaging each other. Lewis too.’

  That was good to hear. Melissa was worried the two may have drifted apart but now, more than ever, Lewis needed his friends.

  ‘Did the twins say anything to Maddy about what happened?’ she asked carefully, interested to know if they’d confided in her.

  ‘Just that they found their dad like that. You know what kids are like, don’t say much to us when it matters.’

  Don’t say anything at all, Melissa thought.

  ‘Mads wanted to go over to Bill and Rosemary’s this morning,’ Ryan continued, ‘but I told her you guys need space.’

  ‘No, tell her it’s fine to come over. It’ll be good for the kids to see her.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll tell her.’ Ryan’s brow creased as he looked into the distance. ‘Any news on who did it?’

  Melissa shook her head. ‘Nothing. Have the police come to see you? I heard they’re doing door-to-door.’

  ‘Yeah. They wanted to know if I’d seen anything.’

  ‘Why would you have seen anything? You live at the other end of the forest to us.’

  He shrugged. ‘Whoever did it could have walked through the forest.’ He pushed away from the tree, patting his thigh to beckon his dog over. ‘Better head back. Andrea Cooper called earlier to say one of her trees looks like it’s rotting. Got a feeling she’s more interested in finding out what the police asked me.’

  Melissa rolled her eyes. ‘That wouldn’t surprise me.’

  ‘Take care out here, okay? You know I’m here if you need to talk?’

  Melissa nodded. ‘I know.’

  She watched him walk off, his dog bounding after him. She missed how close they used to be, but Ryan didn’t really let many people into his life any more.

  Sandy jumped up at Melissa’s legs, whining.

  ‘Okay, I get the hint. But we’ll have to head back soon,’ she said, checking the time as she thought of Patrick alone in hospital. She stood up and followed Sandy into the undergrowth.

  Then she paused.

  On one of the trees behind the great oak was a poster fixed with bright blue tape. She approached it. It was probably about another missing cat or dog. She got her phone out, ready to take a photo, a habit she’d got into so she could refer to it if she saw any lost animals on her walks.

  But then she froze.

  There was no cat or dog on the poster. Instead, it was a family portrait of Melissa, Patrick and the three kids, two words in bold printed above the photo.

  I know.

  Chapter Eleven

  Friday 19th April, 2019

  11.37 a.m.

  Melissa stared at the poster. It was a colour A4 sheet with a purple dotted border, even placed in a plastic sleeve to protect it from the elements. The photo that had been used was from Patrick’s election website. He’d wanted to make sure people knew he was a family man so had included this family portrait, which they’d had done last year.

  Melissa stared at the words printed above the photo.

  I know.

  What did that mean?

  She realised with horror that it could be referring to Patrick’s attack. It looked like it had been put up very recently, the paper within the sleeve still white and untouched by the weather.

  Could someone have seen what had happened the evening before? Their kitchen could be viewed from the forest. But why not just go to the police? Why put this poster up?

  Melissa peered around at the other trees, letting out a gasp as she saw more posters.

  She yanked each of the posters off the trees, shoving them into her bag. Maybe she could show them to the police, even get them to extract fingerprints to find out who was behind them.

  How many more were there? She hadn’t seen any others on the way into the heart of the forest, not on the designated paths anyway. She started running through the forest, scouring the trees for more posters. But there didn’t seem to be any beyond the ones she found around the old oak tree.

  She turned to look at the ancient tree.

  Maybe the location had been chosen on purpose? Whoever placed the posters might know Melissa had once lived here. They might know Melissa often came here to sit on the bench Ryan had made for her mother too.

  I know.

  The old branches of the oak tree creaked in the wind. Melissa shivered, drawing her cardigan around herself. She should get back to the children. She could spend all day searching the forest for these posters and still not cover every inch of the woodland’s five hundred acres. Even Melissa, who’d lived there most of her childhood, probably hadn’t visited every part of that forest. She just needed to hope her theory was right and only the area around the old oak had been targeted. People rarely ventured into that part of the woods.

  She turned around and made her way back to Rosemary and Bill’s.

  These posters just proved it, she thought as she headed back; she needed to go to the police. She’d give the kids one more chance to tell her what happened, then she was taking this to the people she should have gone to in the first place.

  She strode across Rosemary and Bill’s garden then let herself in via the back door, kicking the leaves from her wellies. As she glanced up, she realised the police were already right there, standing in the kitchen with Lilly and Grace.

  Chapter Twelve

  Friday 19th April, 2019

  12.01 p.m.

  The detective who’d interviewed them the night before was standing with a female detective, a slim black woman, her dark hair up in a severe bun. Melissa looked between the two police officers, conscious of the scrunched-up posters in her bag.

  Lilly hurried over to Melissa, barefoot, hair still wet from the shower. Melissa squeezed her hand, reassuring her daughter as much as she could with a touch, a quick smile, despite freaking out inside as well. Grace seemed unfazed, staring in fascination at the two detectives.

  ‘They just got here,’ Lilly said. ‘Nan’s sleeping and Grandad’s in the loo.’

  ‘How can I help?’ Melissa asked the officers.

  ‘We wanted to update you on the investigation,’ Detective Crawford said. ‘You might prefer the children to go into another room?’

  Melissa thought about it. No, they needed to see how serious this was. Maybe it would prompt them to tell the truth. As for her telling the truth about the missing knife, and the posters too, she hadn’t made her mind up yet. ‘It’s fine, they can be here,’ she said.

  ‘This is Detective Powell, by the way,’ Detective Crawford said, gesturing to the other detective.

  Melissa shook the stern-looking detective’s hand.

  ‘We’ve just been having an interesting conversation with your daughter,’ Detective Powell said, raising an over-plucked eyebrow as she looked at Grace. ‘She remembered exactly where the blood spatter was.’

  Lilly’s face flushed bright red in embarrassment. ‘I told her not to go on about it.’ She struggled with her little sister’s obsession with the darker things in life. Lilly was all about the lightness and spark of life, silly social media photos with her friends plastered with neon-coloured statements. If Grace had an Instagram account – which she wasn’t allowed to yet – it would be filled with photos of the dark forest, rotting animals and the dying roots of an oak tree.

  ‘Don’t w
orry, we don’t mind,’ Detective Crawford said, clearly bemused that such a young girl would talk of such a thing. But his colleague looked less impressed.

  Melissa gave them a shaky smile. ‘Grace devours any new information, don’t you, darling?’

  Grace nodded and Lilly clutched her mother’s hand even tighter, Melissa’s heart ricocheting against her chest. Maybe this really was the time to tell the police everything, just like she’d been so determined to earlier.

  She would ask to speak to them alone, get Rosemary and Bill to be with the kids in another room. She’d explain it was all such a shock, so confusing, and she was scared for her kids because she had no idea what the hell had happened and now there were the posters to consider and then—

  She took in a sharp breath.

  And then what? The kids would be interrogated, maybe even taken to the station. They would feel betrayed. Maybe one of them would confess to an argument gone wrong, a moment of rage, and their whole lives would free-fall, just as Jacob Simms’s life had. Not to mention the fact Melissa herself might be done for accessory to assault.

  ‘Are you okay, Mrs Byatt?’ Detective Crawford asked.

  She blinked, focusing on the officer. ‘Yes, sorry, just tired. Let’s sit, shall we?’ she suggested, gesturing to the large sofa at the back of the kitchen. ‘Coffee? Tea?’

  Lewis appeared on the stairs. He came to a sudden stop, eyes popping with fear as he took in the officers.

  ‘The police have just come to update us on the investigation,’ she called out to him, trying to give him a calm smile.

  Bill jogged down the stairs then too, his newspaper in his hands. He paused a moment when he saw the police officers, then he patted Lewis on the back. ‘Come on, son. Let’s see where they are tracking down your dad’s attacker.’

  Lewis nodded and they walked downstairs together. Melissa saw the similarity in them then, just as she did when she saw Patrick and Lewis together. The same height, the same way of moving. Confident and assured, even in the midst of all this. Rosemary would call it the ‘strong Byatt backbone’, all part of a bloodline that went back centuries, as documented by the sprawling family tree that dominated the space above the fireplace in their living room. Soldiers, rugby players, field doctors and now world-leading dog breeders, each generation adding to a lineage to be proud of.