The Quiet Ones: A gripping psychological thriller by Betsy Reavley Read Free Book Online Page B

makes me sick with dizziness.
    ‘Please Charlie,’
    ‘This is totally out of line…’
    ‘Please,’
    ‘Either they come now or I’m taking you home and they can wait…’
    ‘Shut up! Shut the fuck up!’ I blurt out as rage surges around my system. Charlie comes to a sudden halt. He looks at me as if I am a stranger and I bury my face in my hands.
    ‘I can’t do this. Not now.’ I feel the tears well up. ‘I don’t need you to fight for me. Just, please, just sit down.’
    ‘Ssshhh.’ Charlie moves closer and pulls up a chair.
    ‘Just sit with me, please.’ My voice wobbles as my throat closes up and I feel the blood drain from my face. ‘I think I’m going to be sick…’
    Retching, all I manage to bring up is the tea. My stomach is empty since I had no lunch. I have no idea what time it is but decide it must be late as I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. On the lino floor, a small puddle of frothy tea pools at my feet.
    ‘I’ll get something to clear it up.’
    Charlie leaves the room pulling the door closed quietly behind him just as my body begins to shake uncontrollably. I have lost all control of my muscles and slump onto the floor convulsing as gradually the walls around me close in and everything turns black.

    When I regain consciousness, a smiling, Asian face greets me. The blanket that was around my shoulders is now tucked under my head. It smells of cheap washing powder. Behind the brown face, I can make out Charlie’s silhouette, dark and looming, similar to my nightmares – a faceless threat.
    I feel like I’m drifting through the sky in an air balloon. The oxygen is thin and my chest is tightening. I’m scared. Waiting to fall, expecting to crash into the hard, cold ground. But this is not me . It is someone else. I am behind a mask living someone else’s life. A fraud.
    That is how I feel as I come to.
    Instantly, the drama of the situation wraps its arms around me and I feel the grip tighten.
    The halogen lights in the station hurt my eyes and the role I am expected to play bears down over me with crushing weight.
    Wake up.
    Wake up.
    My eyes open and I fix on Charlie.
    He is here, so encouraging.
    ‘I think she’s waking up,’ someone says, the words bringing me back into the present as I carefully sit up.
    ‘You OK, love?’ Charlie steps forward. I don’t respond. ‘Get her some water,’ he barks at the young, kind faced policeman who has stepped back. ‘Let’s get you onto a chair.’ His attention is focused on me once again and I nod in agreement, as he lifts me carefully from the ground and guides me towards a blue plastic chair. ‘Sit.’ It is as though he is speaking to someone with dementia, but I do as I’m told.
    Once safely seated, the room of unfamiliar faces begins to clear until the only people who are left are Charlie and I.
    ‘You gave me a bloody fright.’ He says, bent down on his haunches.
    ‘Sorry.’
    ‘I’m going to take you home. This isn’t right. Not being here now. We can come back tomorrow if they want but I’m getting you out of here.’
    ‘We can’t go back to London,’ I prompt, ‘I need to be here.’
    ‘Fine, then we’ll check into a hotel.’ He is always the practical one. ‘I’m going to speak to that detective. Just sit here, all right? Don’t move. I’ll be back in a flash.’ He takes my hand, kisses it and places it back in my lap before he struts out of the room, an intent figure.
    I am left alone in the soulless interview room and I have a sudden urge to run. All I want is to get up out of the hard chair and run as fast as I can away from the police and the horror inside my head. No more reality. I’ve had enough to last for one day. My brain wages a battle - accept reality or deny it.
    A noise snaps me out of it as the young Indian policeman comes through the door, carrying a glass of water. His deep brown eyes smile with sympathy as he places the cup on the table.
    ‘You should drink this.’ He rubs