Silent Scream

He sobered. ‘How do you think Nicola will react when she realises the truth?’

Kim shrugged. ‘It really wasn’t Nicola that did it. It was Beth.’

Bryant looked doubtful. ‘You really believe that?’

Bless him, he was a meat and potatoes man.

‘Oh yes, Bryant, I do.’

‘It’s all a bit X-Files for me.’

Kim sighed. ‘Beth only came back in Nicola’s time of need, when she was ill or frightened. Nicola’s subconscious used her like a security blanket. Nicola never fully accepted that her sister was dead. Her subconscious mind blocked the memories so that she could live. It protected her from the guilt.

‘Now imagine that, as Beth, Nicola’s memories were readily available. She had access to the overheard conversation in the office, she had access to the knowledge of what occurred so although Nicola couldn’t access the memories, her alter ego could.’

Kim fully believed that Nicola’s conscious mind was oblivious to the fact that her subconscious mind had brought back Beth. And after meeting ‘Beth’, she was in no doubt that it had not been an act.

She turned to Bryant. ‘Try and imagine someone’s psyche splitting in half. Nicola had control of normal day to day activities. She was able to function adequately but someone else had control of her subconscious mind.’

He shook his head. ‘Nah, still not buying it ‒ and I don’t think a jury will either.’

Kim suspected Bryant was right but she doubted that Nicola would ever be declared competent to stand trial. For Kim, the internal struggle between Nicola and Beth had been evident at the crime scenes of both Teresa and Tom. The arrival of the police had been expedited on both occasions. Some part of the split psyche had wanted to be stopped.

Nicola was not a bad or evil person and her punishment would come as the memories returned to her.

Kim knew first hand that survivor guilt had the power to shape a mind; and that was why she prayed her own boxes never got opened.

‘How do you think Wilks managed to stay alive?’

‘More luck than judgement,’ Kim said. ‘He would have been next and she would have got him.’

Bryant shook his head. ‘One thing I don't understand is how the hell did it go u

‘The records were a mess, Bryant. Remember, the place was already being emptied. The records of the runaways were not up-to-date and on the night of the fire just about everyone was producing lists. The ambulance service was removing girls to hospital to be checked. It was chaos and that was the intention. No two lists from that night match up.’

‘But why didn't Nicola speak up?’

‘The kid was terrified. She was convinced they would realise their mistake with the cardigan and come looking for her.’

‘What about Mary Andrews? Do you think that was Nicola or Beth or whoever the hell it was?’

Kim shook her head. ‘There was no evidence to suggest that she died of anything other than the disease. Mary was the only one not present or mentioned that day so Nicola had no reason to target her.’ Kim sighed heavily. ‘I think Mary Andrews was the only person any of them could trust. Except for William, who worked nights, every single one of them found some way to exploit these girls even further. Is it any wonder they weren't girl scouts?’

‘That's a charitable way of putting it,’ Bryant offered.

She opened her mouth to argue the point but closed it again. Bryant believed that a moral code was ingrained into the conscience at birth. He believed it to be as genetic as eye colour or height. Kim knew it wasn't. Conscience, and use of it, was a learned behaviour. It came from good examples and strong role models. The inherent difference between right and wrong is perfected throughout life and not pre-printed on the brain.

The social background of Tracy, Melanie and Louise dictated that those codes would forever be warped. Just as abused children often go on to abuse.

Bryant would never be convinced but Kim knew ‒ because she had been there. And a three-year interval had saved more than her life.

Bryant took a sip of his coffee. ‘So, what was going on between you and the Doc? There was definitely a meeting of the minds.’

‘Bryant,’ she warned.

‘Oh come on, Kim. Given more time there would have been sparks.’

‘And what do sparks cause?’

‘Fire,’ he said, opening his eyes wide.

‘And have you ever known a fire without damage?’

Bryant opened his mouth, thought for a second and then closed it again. ‘There really is no answer to that.’

‘Precisely.’

‘Probably a good thing,’ Bryant said, thoughtfully. ‘The Doc was a bit too much like you.' He smirked. 'Jesus, imagine the kids you would have ...’

‘Bryant, I think you should mind your own damn business,’ she snapped. Sometimes he knew her a little too well.

And yet, if she met Daniel again, who knew?

‘Yeah, I probably should but it’s unlikely that I will.’

Kim smiled. ‘How’s life at Battersea Dog’s Home?’

‘Pups are doing well. They’re all taken. My niece is having Pebbles. Bam Bam is going to the neighbour. Yogi has been reserved by my daughter’s best friend and Boo Boo is going to Stacey’s sister.’

‘You haven’t saddled the poor things with those names for life, have you?’

Bryant shook his head. ‘Nah, just so we can tell them apart for now.’

‘What about the mum?’

‘She’ll be staying with me. She’s only four and the vet estimates she’s had three litters already. Her work is done.’

For a second, just a fleeting second, Kim had the urge to hug this bear of a man with the warmest of hearts. He was her colleague and her one true friend.

But she let the moment pass.

He stepped off the bar stool. ‘So, I’ll cut to the real reason for my visit. It is finished, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, Bryant, it’s finished.’

He rubbed his hands. ‘Can I, can I, can I?’

Kim laughed at his childish excitement.

He darted through the adjoining door to the garage.

She took the cakes and emptied them into the bin. She immersed the cake tin into hot soapy water.

Bryant returned to the doorway. ‘Umm ... Kim, it’s not there.’

‘Oh really, how about that?’

He leaned against the door frame with his arms folded. ‘You sold it, didn’t you?’

Kim said nothing.

Bryant was deflated, confused. ‘But you loved that bike like a child. You’ve been working towards riding the damn thing for months. I just don’t get it. It meant the world to you.’

‘You know, Bryant, some things just mean more.’

She wiped the cake tin and put it away. Bryant’s expression was puzzled. He didn’t understand.

But Kim did ‒ and that was all that mattered.

Letter from Angela

First of all, I want to say a huge thank you for choosing to read Silent Scream.  I hope you enjoyed the first installment of Kim's journey and hope you feel the same way I do.  Whilst not always perfect she is someone you would want fighting your corner.

If you did enjoy it, I would be forever grateful if you’d write a review. I’d love to hear what you think, and it can also help other readers discover one of my books for the first time. Or maybe you can recommend it to your friends and family …

A story begins as a seed of an idea that grows from watching and listening to everyone around you.  Each individual is unique and we all have a story.  I want to capture as many of those tales as I can and I hope you will join both Kim Stone and myself on our travels; wherever they may lead.

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