Silent Treatment Read online

  It was with some trepidation that she approached Gary's office to see if any of the journals had been deposited ready for her to read. She had already decided that she would take them home with her. Opening the door to the area where the children were housed, she had to admit that she felt nervous and could feel the anxiety rising in her.

  Chapter Eleven

  Bet that surprised you!

  Did you like the new me then. Hope I didn't come across as too nice, but I wanted you to see the real me. It's so hard trying to appear mean all the time, when you are just a big cuddly softy like me! And I do so hate confrontation.

  Just let me know when you want me to do another test for you. Wonder who I'll be next time…

  Ciao

  Nathan

  Sarah

  Hope you didn't take offence, I wouldn't want to do that to you. It was just a little joke. It was Nathan's idea as I think you probably guessed. I'm sure I'm not really a sychopath.

  I'm sure my mother would have told me not to lie but I actually enjoyed it a bit – sorry! But being someone else for a while was quite fun. It's not easy being nice all the time. I'm sure you understand. If you want me to do it again I don't mind.

  Emily

  xxxx

  ‘Are they taking the mickey?’ she said as she sat in her front room reading the journals. She realised that she had said that out loud. At times like these it was useful to live alone.

  She slammed the journal shut and dropped it on the floor in her front room.

  It was always with a mixture of excitement and a hint of trepidation that she opened the journals. It was her only window into the children's feelings. But at times she began to wonder if they were deliberately annoying her.

  “big cuddly softy like me! “

  'Yeah, right,' said Sarah.

  And as for the word “sychopath”. Sarah winced as she saw the spelling and felt the urge to correct it immediately.

  Exasperated, she stood up and walked round the room, it usually helped her clear her head. She sat down and picked up the journals again.

  As she re-read them with a clearer head, she began to think that there was more to them than just an attempt to taunt her.

  “I'm sure my mother would have told me”

  What did that mean?

  It was the first mention any of them had made about their parents. But it was an odd way to phrase it.

  She turned the phrase over and over in her head and as she did so an idea began to form. As it began to take shape in her mind, she sat back, almost smiling. At least she knew what she would be doing tomorrow when someone asked her.

  She decided she needed to take her mind off the children, even for just a short time. Sarah stood up and headed towards her father’s old study. He had got into the habit of locking the room later in his life. Sarah had no idea why, but as she fished around in her pocket for the key, she wondered if he had taken to keeping confidential patient information in there. That would explain it, though she hadn’t found anything that looked confidential so far. The key turned easily in the lock and as she pushed the door open and looked inside she had to admit that she hadn’t made a lot of progress in tidying it up. She suspected that part of her apathy was because she was reluctant to move too much for fear of removing his memory from the room somehow. It wasn’t logical, she knew that, but it was how she felt.

  The room was actually quite large, it was just the stacks of books; over laden bookcases and myriad papers that made it look small and cramped. What little floor space that was left was dominated by the large writing desk. Underneath the papers and books protruded small visible sections of formerly polished rosewood.

  In the corner was an ornate chess set sitting on a tall wooden stand. Every time she looked at it she experienced a rush of emotion, joy followed by sadness. He had taught her to play when she was quite young and she had taken to it immediately. She enjoyed the strategy and planning involved, but what she enjoyed was the time she spent with her father alone and of course the first time when she actually beat her father at the game. She remembered it clearly, if he had been upset he hid it well.

  The pieces sat here motionless, involved in a game Sarah and her father had been playing before his illness that would never be completed.

  It was her move.

  She had been tempted to move one of the pieces, to continue the game in his memory and thereby continue his existence. But she hadn’t. And it sat there like a frozen memory. A frozen moment in time that felt like a connection to him and she didn’t want to let go of it.

  This was the room that she had found most of the strange cryptic or just plain baffling scribbled notes that had been left. They had clearly been notes to himself, almost snippets of a conversation he was having with himself. To distract herself she decided to tackle one of the bookcases that groaned under the weight of badly organised books.

  She spent a distracting hour sorting the books into relevant piles. It helped that she understood the subject matter, it would be baffling to a normal person. She stood up and admired her handiwork. The bookcase was now neatly filled with books, organised by subject matter. Having exhausted her tidying ability, she left the room, locking the door behind her and headed to her bedroom.

  Her mind was too restless and try as she might she couldn’t sleep for more than a couple of hours at a time. As she awoke again for the umpteenth time, she had a vague recollection of getting up in the night, again. What dreams she had not surprisingly involved the children and rather confusingly some scenes from a thriller she was trying to read. She felt more exhausted as she woke up than she had when she went to bed the night before.

  The strange jumble of images remained with her for a few moments as she woke up, but slowly dissipated as the sun shone through her almost useless curtains.

  She started her morning rituals and it had the effect of calming her. Besides she had the day ahead to concentrate on. But she wondered if the idea that had seemed so logical after reading the children’s journals last night, still seemed such a good idea?

  She clambered into her car, clutching the journals and drove to work to find out if it was indeed still a good idea.

  Chapter Twelve

  'That's a good start,' said Sarah, 'maybe a little more, oh I don't know, homely?'

  Helen looked at Sarah to check that she was actually serious. This was not what she had gone into psychology for.

  'It's not exactly a very homely place, an institute,' said Helen.

  Sarah nodded 'We will just have to make the best of what have got,' said Sarah, aware that she sounded like a mother talking to her sulky daughter. Which was ironic, with what was about to follow.

  'Seems like fun,' said John, lightening the mood considerably.

  After another twenty minutes of scraping of furniture; moving of lights and rearranging of just about everything in the room, they all stood there looking at what they had created.

  'Homely,' said John.

  'You've done well,' said Sarah.

  Helen just scowled. She was wondering why she had spent four years studying so she could move furniture around. She eventually managed to say 'Was that the effect you were going for?'

  Sarah surveyed the scene, it wasn't exactly what she had imagined when she had been at home. But it was somewhere near.

  The scene in front of them consisted of a large table, with chairs along each side. There were six chairs.

  The effect Sarah had been going for was a kitchen table. She had remembered when she was young that the kitchen table had been a focal point of the house. It had either been full of delicious food offerings or lively discussions, or both. Often she hadn't really understood everything that the adults were talking about; some of the mischievous looks from her father and the younger director had suggested that they were not suitable for children to hear. Her mother's expressions had left little doubt. But she had played along, laughing and giggling even when she wasn't really sure what she was laughing ab
out. The table had seemed enormous to her then. The adult Sarah was looking at the table in front of her with her adult eyes and the table looked quite small.

  All signs of the institute as far as possible had been removed. Signs had been taken down and paper had been taped over the windows. To all intents and purposes the room was effectively isolated from the rest of the institute. It could be anywhere. Which was exactly the atmosphere that Sarah was trying to create.

  A table cloth and cups and saucers had been neatly arranged in the six places. And as a final flourish there were cakes and soft drinks placed in the middle of the table.

  'Well it looks like my table in my family's home,' said John enthusiastically, 'only a bit neater and with no screaming children.'

  Sarah nodded appreciatively. 'It's the effect I was going for. If we could just break the children out of the cycle of us asking them questions.'

  'And them not answering them,' said John.

  'Yes, as you say. If we can create as close as we can to a family atmosphere, then maybe they will be more relaxed and ready to talk.'

  Helen looked less than convinced, but aware she was feeling a little left out she tried to at least sound enthusiastic.

  'How did you think of this then Sarah?' said Helen.

  'It was something that was said in the journal. Emily mentioned a parent. It was the first time she had done that, so I was hoping to bring back some memories of their childhood. Maybe sitting at a kitchen table might trigger some recollection.'

  'Cool,' said John.

  'Okay,' said Helen.

  Sarah suddenly had misgivings. Was she getting a bit desperate? But she remembered her father, he had never worried about pushing boundaries. He would probably tell her that what she was doing was actually rather tame compared to the things he had done.

  She felt herself reaching for her tablets, but she realised she couldn't take one. If she grabbed a tablet at this moment, her authority which seemed tenuous at times, would be shattered.

  Helen looked at Sarah suspiciously as she fiddled around in her pocket, clasping the container.

  'There's just one thing,' said John, 'if we are trying to recreate a family atmosphere.'

  He paused for effect before continuing 'Shouldn’t we have a family?'

  Sarah had been delaying confronting this until as late as possible. She had wanted to get them so fully on board with the idea that their enthusiasm would carry over. She looked at Helen's still unimpressed face and across at John's enthusiastic expression. It made what she said next a lot easier.

  'I'm glad you asked me that. John if you wouldn't mind playing father I can be mother.'

  John smiled and said 'Great.'

  Helen just looked resentful.

  'And if you could take notes on the children's reactions Helen, then that would be very useful.'

  The tone in Sarah's voice sounded like she had dropped into the mother role already.

  To Sarah's relief Helen seemed pleased to be on the sidelines and she turned and positioned herself in the corner.

  John and Sarah positioned themselves at opposite ends of the table.

  'It looks as if we have had an argument,' said John.

  'Quite realistic then,' said Sarah.

  John looked quizzically at her.

  'Not that my parents had many arguments though,' said Sarah quickly.

  'I'm sure you had a very happy upbringing,' said John.

  It was with some relief that Sarah heard over her shoulder the sound of the door being opened. She stood up and turned around to see the children trooping in.

  They looked slightly bemused. Even Nathan let his slightly surly expression slip.

  Emily's face, which usually contained a smile, seemed unable to contain an even wider smile.

  Even the twins stopped looking at each other long enough to view the surroundings.

  'Come in and sit down won't you please,' said Sarah.

  The children dutifully walked towards the table and sat down. Sarah took her place at the head of the table, Nathan and Emily sat either side of her, with the twins sat nearest to John.

  Sarah drew a deep breath and said 'Thank you for coming.'

  As she looked across at them she noticed that they were not looking at her at all and she realised that they were transfixed by the cakes.

  'Please, tuck in,' said Sarah and before she had completely finished the sentence hands shot out and grabbed the cakes.

  Sarah sat patiently, waiting for them to pause for breath.

  'Are they okay for you?' she said.

  Emily looked up, her face still partly full of cake. She gulped the last of it down, wiped her face and for a moment Sarah thought she was going to say something.

  But all Sarah got was a smile.

  Sarah sat back, slightly disappointed. She was aware that the children had momentarily stopped eating and that there was now silence. She tried to imagine she was at her own family meals at the kitchen table.

  'Did you have a good day Emily?' Sarah decided to concentrate on Emily, she was still convinced that she would be the first to finally speak.

  Emily nodded.

  'Did you have many family meals like this before?' said Sarah.

  Emily looked across at Nathan. His expression remained passive, but it had the effect of making Emily lower her eyes down to the empty plate.

  The silence returned. And the eating resumed.

  The children ate and drank for a while until there was little left on the table.

  Sarah was struggling to think of what to do next.

  And then John unexpectedly started to speak. It was in a voice that Sarah had never heard before.

  'Have you done your homework?' he said.

  The children straightened up. Even the twins raised their heads upwards.

  As Sarah looked at John she got the feeling that he had surprised himself and that he seemed unsure where the voice had come from.

  'Have you got anything planned for today?' said Sarah.

  Nathan slowly returned his attention to Sarah. He shrugged.

  'Answer your mother,' said John in the sternest voice she had ever heard from him.

  Before Sarah could intervene Nathan pushed the plate and glass over in front of him and they clattered to a halt on the table. He turned to glare at John.

  For one moment Sarah thought he might get up and rush towards John. This was beginning to get out of her control.

  Sarah stood up and said 'Now now, it's all fine.' and she instinctively started to tidy up the mess at the table.

  'Don't do that for him,' said John as he stood up. 'He should tidy it up for himself.'

  Nathan suddenly stood up and glared at John.

  Sarah saw out of the corner of her eye that Helen was furiously scribbling away.

  Emily’s face looked genuinely frightened and she looked across at Sarah as if she was pleading with her to do something; Emily’s mouth began to open, Sarah could feel herself tensing.

  And then the moment was broken by the sound of a glass breaking on the floor. Sarah looked across at Nathan. He was smiling.

  As Sarah looked back across at Emily she could see the moment had passed and her face was back to normal.

  Sarah realised that there was no point in continuing.

  Sarah signalled towards the door for the orderlies to come in and clear up. They weren’t the usual orderlies and they were dressed in formal white coats, which Sarah had forbidden them from wearing around the children.

  As the orderlies approached, the children seemed to freeze slightly. It was almost imperceptible, but Sarah was sure that she had seen it.

  As she looked at the children she felt she could detect a fear bordering on panic in their faces at the sight of the white clad orderlies. Sarah felt compelled to move towards them and comfort them. And then Emily unexpectedly placed her hand in Sarah's.

  It was the first time there had been any physical contact between them since they had arrived. Emily's expres
sion began to soften slightly as she stared into Sarah's eyes.

  Sarah had to steady herself as she looked at Emily. She almost felt light headed as she felt herself being drawn into her gaze.

  Sarah and the children seemed almost connected in a way that she hadn't felt before. She felt closer to them.

  It was John who eventually broke the spell.

  He said gently 'Maybe we should get the children back.'

  Sarah couldn't remove her gaze from Emily. She felt trapped.

  Eventually it was Emily who released Sarah. She felt herself sway backwards and had to steady herself.

  The children began to follow John out of the room and Sarah slumped down into one of the chairs.

  The next voice she heard was Helen's 'What do you think just happened?'

  Sarah really didn't have the energy to talk right now.

  'I think maybe we should discuss it at a de-briefing later,' said Sarah wearily.

  'I'll bring my notes,' said Helen.

  'Okay, I'll open with father issues.'

  Normally with their meetings Sarah would pore over the agenda and find herself doing most of the talking. Trying to get the others to join in was the usual problem.

  John had barely sat down before he had started to speak.

  'Thank you John,' said Sarah.

  'I quite enjoyed it,' said John. 'It was more interesting than usual. And I really thought Nathan was going to say something.'

  'Or put you up against a wall,' said Helen.

  'Maybe. But at least he didn't just keep his usual smug expression on his face,' said John.

  Helen nodded in agreement.

  There was a slight pause before Helen said in a serious tone ‘I think he did it deliberately you know.’

  ‘What?’ said John.

  ‘Broke the glass,’ replied Helen.

  Sarah looked across at Helen.

  ‘I think Nathan was afraid that Emily was going to say something, or at least give something away,’ said Helen.