Silent Child

“I think I heard him sing.”


When Dr Foster leaned forward, I didn’t like the little glint of excitement in her eyes. I could see the pound signs dancing around in her imagination for when she turned in an article entitled ‘The Feral Child of Yorkshire’. “Really? What led up to this development?”

I pushed my hands between my thighs to stop myself rubbing the dry patches of skin, which were now red and angry from my constant niggling. “There was an argument.” I glanced up, expecting to see disapproval in Dr Foster’s expression.

“I’m not here to judge. Your family has been put in an extremely stressful situation over the last week. Arguments are to be expected.”

“Aiden was in the other room. It was the day we met at the woods. I was… not in a good place. I tried to go home and the reporters were there so I went to my best friend’s house. Rob came to meet us. He was agitated. Some reporter had taken his picture and he was obsessed with the idea that they’d accuse him of the kidnap. They always go after the dads, he said. I told him about the thing with the police and he lost his temper.”

“In a violent way?”

“No. Just raised voices. Then there was a slight pause, and I heard this high-pitched singing coming from the living room. I think it was Aiden. We’d left him in there watching Disney films.”

“You’re sure it was Aiden? It couldn’t have been the film?”

I shrugged. “It didn’t sound like anything from the film. He had the sound muted when I walked in.”

“Did you recognise the words or the tune from what Aiden was singing?”

I shook my head. “I didn’t hear words, just a small voice. It was… kind of haunting. You know those creepy songs they use in horror films when a child is possessed by a ghost or a doll comes to life?”

A half-smile spread across her lips. “My husband watches those films, so yes.”

“It was a little bit like that. Like a nursery rhyme.” I shivered. I hadn’t thought much about the song since we’d come back from Josie’s. I’d had the reporters to deal with, and then I had tried to block out the world. Maybe I tried too hard. Maybe Jake was right.

“And since that moment?” she prompted.

I shook my head. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Barely a whimper.”

“On the day you heard the singing, did anyone else hear his voice?”

“No, actually. It was just me. Do you think I imagined it?”

“No,” she said, with a voice that suggested that perhaps she did. “Not necessarily, but we can’t rule it out as an explanation. Now, tell me about how Aiden is sleeping since he came home from the hospital.”

“He goes to bed at 8pm every night and I check on him at 9pm. He’s always laid with his eyes shut but I’m not sure if he’s asleep or not. Sometimes I think he’s pretending.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Just the way he lies on his back with his arms on either side. It doesn’t look comfortable. Sometimes when I check on him later in the night he’ll have rolled onto his side, and that seems more normal.”

“Any night terrors?”

“He sleeps with the door open. Always. I’ve never closed the door to a room he’s in. I think that might help him, because he’s been sleeping well since he came home. There was one time I saw him tossing and turning. I didn’t want to wake him, because I know he doesn’t like to be touched too much. After about thirty seconds he drifted into a deeper sleep and seemed fine.”

Dr Foster tapped her pen on top of her open notebook. “That’s a very good sign. He’s getting rest. He’s clearly putting on some weight. These are all good things, Mrs. Price-Hewitt. You’re doing just fine.”

“You’d say that even after what you saw the other day in the woods?” I let out a hollow laugh.

“Yes. I would. You’re only human, Emma. Try not to beat yourself up about the incident in the forest. Everyone was under intense stress. It was a little too soon for Aiden, that’s all.” She leaned back in her chair. “Now, tell me how you’re doing. Would you like me to refer you to a therapist? You’ve been through an extraordinary event. Talking about it might help.”

“No, thank you. I had some therapy after I thought Aiden had drowned. It helped in some ways, but not in others. I’m okay. I thought Aiden had died. I’ve already been through the worst pain a human being can deal with. Everything that comes after that pales in significance. I’m going to be fine.”

Sarah A. Denzil's books