The Silent Cry: Part 1 of 3: There is little Kim can do as her mother's mental health spirals out of control. Cathy Glass
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Certain details in this story, including names, places and dates, have been changed to protect the children.
HarperElement
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First published by HarperElement 2016
FIRST EDITION
© Cathy Glass 2016
A catalogue record of this book is
available from the British Library
Cover image © Krasimira Petrova Shishkova/Trevillion Images (posed by model)
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Source ISBN: 9780008153717
Ebook Edition © February 2016 ISBN: 9780008156572
Version: 2016-03-04
Contents
Chapter Three: Lullaby at Bedtime
Chapter Five: A Very Strange Phone Call
A big thank you to my family; my editors, Carolyn and Holly; my literary agent, Andrew; my UK publishers HarperCollins, and my overseas publishers who are now too numerous to list by name. Last, but definitely not least, a big thank you to my readers for your unfailing support and kind words.
The room is dark, although it’s daylight outside. Strangely dark and eerily quiet. Not a sound when there should be noise. Crying and screaming, that’s what she was expecting to hear. And the room seems smaller now too, as though the walls are gradually closing in and crushing her, crushing her to death.
She sits huddled at one end of the sofa, too scared to look around. Scared of what she might see in this unnaturally dark and quiet room that is threatening to squeeze the air out of her and squash her to nothing. Scared, too, of what lies ahead if she stands and goes to the telephone to make that call, and tells them what she’s done. They will come and take her baby for sure if she tells them that she has given birth to the devil.
Chapter One
Everyone loves a newborn baby and wants a little look. Even those who protest that they are not ‘baby lovers’ can’t resist a peep at the miracle of a new life. I joined the other mothers grouped around the pram in the school playground as we waited with our children for the start of school.
‘Congratulations, he’s gorgeous,’ I said, adding my own best wishes to the many others.
‘Thank you,’ Laura (the new mum) said quietly, a little bemused by all the attention.
‘How old is he now?’ I asked.
‘Two weeks.’
‘Aah, he’s adorable.’
‘Make the most of every moment,’ another mother said. ‘They grow up far too quickly.’
My own daughter, Paula, aged thirteen months, was sitting in the stroller and wanted to have a look too, so I unclipped the safety harness and lifted her out so she could see into the pram.
‘Baby,’ she said cutely, pointing.
‘Yes, that’s baby Liam,’ I said.
‘Baby Liam,’ she repeated with a little chuckle.
‘You were that small once,’ I said, and she chuckled again.
‘He’s my baby brother,’ Kim, Laura’s daughter, said proudly.
‘I know. Aren’t you a lucky girl?’ I said to her, returning Paula