The Silent Cry: Part 2 of 3: There is little Kim can do as her mother's mental health spirals out of control. Cathy Glass

The Silent Cry: Part 2 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

      An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers

      1 London Bridge Street

      London SE1 9GF

       www.harpercollins.co.uk

      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)

      Cover layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2016

      Cathy Glass asserts the moral right to be

      identified as the author of this work

      All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

      Find out about HarperCollins and the environment at

       www.harpercollins.co.uk/green

      Source ISBN: 9780008153717

      Ebook Edition © February 2016 ISBN: 9780008156589

      Version: 2016-01-19

      Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

       Copyright

      

      

       Chapter Ten: The Devil’s Child

       Chapter Eleven: Trying to Hurt Him

       Chapter Twelve: Very Serious

       Chapter Thirteen: Worry

       Chapter Fourteen: Gina

       Chapter Fifteen: Everley

       Chapter Sixteen: Home Again

       Chapter Seventeen: Progress

      

      

       Moving Memoirs eNewsletter

       About the Publisher

       The Devil’s Child

      School resumed on Monday after the half-term break and the air temperature rose dramatically by ten degrees, as it can do in England, catching everyone unawares and causing the weather reporter to pronounce a heat wave. The sun shone in a cloudless sky and the air was alive with birdsong and the scent of summer flowers. We didn’t need to wear our jackets to walk to school that morning.

      Adrian was pleased to see his friends again and they ran around in the playground before school began. Parents chatted to each other, catching up on their news and asking each other if they’d had a nice holiday, and sharing what they’d done. Some families had spent the week at home just relaxing, pleased to be out of the school routine, while others had been more energetic, going out most days, and a couple of lucky families had been abroad for the week. As I talked to my friends I looked around for any sign of Laura, hoping she was now feeling well enough to bring Kim to school, but I couldn’t see her. Then just before the start of school Geraldine walked into the playground, with Kim beside her pushing the pram. Kim was looking around her, proud to be in charge of her baby brother, while Geraldine kept her gaze straight ahead, her face expressionless. I assumed therefore that Laura still didn’t feel up to coming out, or possibly she was just having a lie-in. I’d ask Geraldine how she was if I got the opportunity.

      When the Klaxon sounded the children said goodbye to their parents and then lined up ready to go into school. The little groups of parents began dispersing, making their way towards the main gate. I looked over to where Geraldine had been standing. She was now walking briskly towards the exit. She was always one of the first out, slipping out ahead of everyone else, but this time her progress was slowed by the pram. I caught up with her as she waited for her turn to pass through the main gate.

      ‘Good morning,’ I said. Paula was holding my hand and toddling beside me.

      Geraldine threw me her usual tight smile.

      ‘Baby,’ Paula said, pointing to the pram.

      ‘Yes. Baby Liam. How is he doing?’ I asked Geraldine. I could just see his little face over the cover, sleeping.

      ‘He’s well,’ she said.

      ‘And how’s Laura?’

      ‘These things take time.’

      ‘She didn’t feel up to coming here today then?’ I asked.

      ‘No.’

      We were now through the main gate and on the pavement outside and it was clear Geraldine didn’t want to walk with us.

      ‘Give her my love,’ I said.

      She nodded stiffly and then, head down, she set off, pushing the pram at a brisk pace.

      ‘Baby Liam,’ Paula said again.

      ‘Yes,’ I said absently. ‘With his grandmother.’

      As we passed number 53 Paula and I both glanced at the house, but there was no one to be seen, and we continued our haltingly slow journey home. It didn’t matter that it took us ages; it was a beautiful day and Paula was finding plenty to interest her along the way: ants scurrying across pavements, a cat basking on a sun-drenched wall, front gardens with an array of brightly coloured flowers, all of which were wonderfully new and inspiring to the enquiring young mind of a small child. I wished


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