Silent Children Read Online Free PDF Page B

suppose when the paper's so local you might be." As Verity Drew sat up straighter as though her raised eyebrows had hauled her erect Leslie said "But however local it is, I don't see why selling a house, and that's all this is now, is news."
    "Quite a few of our readers did, Mrs. Ames."
    "After they'd been stirred up, maybe. Why did you?"
    "Why did we decide it was worth reporting? Some people—"
    "Let's stay with ones who've got names. What were you thinking?"
    "I believe the public has a right to know what's being done with the site of by far the most horrific crime that has ever appalled our community, especially when it's slap in their midst."
    "As you see, nothing's being done with it. I'm back."
    "Which brings us to the subject I wanted to raise. Can I ask you about it now?"
    "What do you feel is worth asking?"
    "How you feel about returning to, returning here."
    "To the scene of the crime, I suppose you stopped yourself saying." When the reporter only gazed expectantly at her over the notebook that an ample pocket of the brown dress had proved to contain, Leslie said "It wasn't my crime, perhaps you'd like to keep in mind. I was just coming back to my favourite house that I'd lived in. And maybe you'd like to consider that your paper made it impossible to sell the house except to people you wouldn't have wanted in it, I can tell you."
    "So would you say there were any feelings you had to overcome before you could be comfortable?"
    "What do you think? There still are. I feel sad and worse than sad whenever I think of the little girl, and sorry for her family. Don't you?"
    "This isn't about my feelings, Mrs. Ames," the reporter said, and immediately contradicted herself by starting so violently she almost dropped the notebook. For a moment Leslie felt as if the kitchen had grown cold as the underside of concrete, as if the sunlight had turned into clinging mist, and then she saw that the presence behind her was Ian. "How long have you been there?" she said with a laugh that surprised her by not being nervous.
    "A bit."
    Verity Drew pressed her lips together, erasing their tinge of pink. "I wonder if I could have a brief chat with your son," she said, and set about turning the wheelchair toward the hall.
    "That's up to him."
    "In that case," the reporter said, though Ian had expressed no enthusiasm, "let's adjourn to another room."
    "What for?" Ian said, lounging in the doorway.
    "I'm sure a big boy like you must have understood my meaning. I'd like to hear how you feel about living here," the reporter said, and wheeled herself toward him.
    "I mean, what's wrong with doing it in here?"
    "I should prefer not to. Just let me past and you can tell me all about your feelings."
    "There's nothing wrong with it, is there, mum?"
    "Not as far as we're concerned, but if Ms. Drew, I assume it's Ms., if Ms. Drew isn't happy—"
    "It's Mrs.," the reporter declared as if Leslie had cast doubt on her marriageability. "Will you please let me out of this—"
    "Thought you wanted me to say how I felt."
    "Yes, as I made clear, when—"
    "The same as my mum. The same as she said, that's how I feel."
    "If you say so. Now will you just—"
    "Aren't you going to write it down?"
    "I'll remember. Believe me, I will," the reporter said, her voice barely under control, and flattened her hands on top of the wheels preparatory to driving the chair at him.
    "Ian." However much the reporter deserved to suffer the effects of the atmosphere she'd created, Leslie felt that was enough. "Don't tease," she said.
    Perhaps she should have omitted the last word, because the reporter fixed her with a look that contained no gratitude. As Ian advanced into the kitchen the reporter accelerated down the hall, not quite along the tracks she'd already dug in the carpet, and didn't slow until she was past the stairs. By the time she'd levered herself up to seize the latch and pull the door open, Leslie was there to assist her in manoeuvring the wheelchair over the