The Silent Twin by Unknown Read Free Book Online Page B

Night-time was the worst, when he was left alone with his thoughts. But his suffering had begun long before Abigail disappeared. Abigail . . . His heart ached for his little girl, and the loss of his family drove like a blade through his heart. His head jerked up as the creak of a timber echoed overhead. If only they hadn’t come to this godforsaken place.
    His eyelids grew leaden as his body screamed for rest, but each time sleep came close, his limbs jerked in an involuntary spasm, shaking his thoughts loose from their resting place. Accusations rushed around his brain like a pinball machine, hitting off the sides with nowhere to go. Guilt, disgust, fear, longing. Nick rubbed his face, wishing he could unplug his mind and settle for numbness as his wife had chosen to do. But his brain ticked on like the hands of a tightly wound clock.
    By 4 a.m. he was staring up at the sky through the open kitchen window, allowing the soothing night air to wash over him. He had fallen into a fuzzy pre-sleep standing up, but when a low moaning sound crept through the pipes he jerked, and sought sanctity outside. Somehow, the open air made him feel closer to Abigail, and the sky was beautiful just before dawn. Blue-grey clouds stroked the underbelly of the moon, and sounds of the forest echoed in the distance, reminding him that, somewhere, creatures were coming to life. He thought of the river, running purposefully through Haven. What it would be like to wash himself away. Would he see Abigail then? Or would he go somewhere else, a darker place, fitting for his crime? His footsteps carried him out to the sheds, down the well-worn path past the hen house where Abigail had played the day she disappeared. He stood outside the barn, bathed in moonlight. Where it happened. Shame washed over him. What had he been thinking? He loved his daughters. He would never purposely cause them pain. His shoulders shook as a guttural gasping sound broke free. Shuddering sobs wracked his body and his knees thudded against the broken soil as he finally succumbed to his tears. He hung his head, hiding his shame from the world. Even the moon rejected him as it hid behind the clouds, banishing him to a world of loneliness and despair.
    As his sobs subsided he began the merry-go-round of ‘what ifs’ and ‘if onlys’ – the tormented game that grieving people play. If only the children had stayed inside like they were meant to. If only they hadn’t bought this place. And what if he and Joanna had never met? At least then they would have been spared the pain. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t the opportunity to settle down with someone else, but his courage had always escaped him. Why had he agreed to marry her? Deep down he knew why. He was attracted to her vulnerability, and taking care of her made him forget his own problems; helped him turn his back on the life he knew was wrong. Now he wasn’t so sure. She was different to anyone else he had dated, and his friends had warned him, tried to make him see sense. But it was easier to go along with it, set up home and have children. Isn’t that what you were meant to do? And he had wanted children. Abigail and Olivia were the only good thing to come from this whole sorry mess . . . and now . . . His stomach cramped as the realisation hit him again, winding him like a hammer blow. Abigail was gone.
    The night chill crept through the crevices in his coat, seizing his body in an involuntary shiver. He clamped his hand on the back of his neck, rubbing the hairs that had begun to rise. The feeling of being watched had stayed with him since he left the house. Damp with dew and exhausted, he turned and headed back for home.
    He took the stairs to check on Olivia, gently pushing open her bedroom door. She was in the room she shared with Abigail, the darkness softened by the glow of the night light. Olivia’s blonde hair spilled over the lace pillow, and Nick straightened her duvet, which was rucked from restless dreams.