The Silence
’I raced through this book, at a rate of knots. And, oh my, I wasn't expecting what the author delivered! Shocks aplenty, I can tell you!’ Amazon Top 500 Reviewer⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Jonah never thought he had it in him to kill a woman, but he was wrong. She was lying at his feet. He had to make the call. Grabbing the receiver on the old landline phone, he dialled in the number. It took so long for the dial to turn back. 9 click-click-click, 9 click-click-click, 9 click-click-click. ‘Which service do you require?’ ‘Ambulance ‒police ‒both. ’ Her scream still drilled in his ear even though she was silent. He’d only thought to shut her up. ‘I think I’ve hurt someone. ’ When Jenny, a concert violinist, moves to an atmospheric old house in Blackheath, it seems like the answer to her prayers. The eccentric owner, Bridget, is keen to share her house with like-minded artists and also living there is the charismatic actor, Jonah, who is dogged by his traumatic past; both a curse and a blessing as his edgy persona gains traction in the acting world. Jenny is herself battling demons; unable to speak after a catastrophic incident when she was a teenager, she is reliant on strong painkillers to dull the constant pain. Gradually, an insidious addiction takes hold and Jenny’s life spirals out of control. The housemates find themselves battling to save not only their sanity, but also their lives…
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Killer Reads is an imprint of
HarperCollinsPublishers
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First published in Great Britain by Killer Reads 2019
Copyright © Joss Stirling 2019
Cover design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2019
Cover image © Shutterstock.com
Joss Stirling asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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Source ISBN: 9780008358211
Ebook Edition © April 2019 ISBN: 9780008358204
Version: 2019-04-19
For Richard Blackford
‘There are times when one cannot lift a blade of grass without finding a serpent underneath it.’
Marceline Desbordes-Valmore (1786-1859)
‘Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented.’
Elie Wiesel (1928-2016)
Table of Contents
Jonah, Present Day
Jonah never thought he had it in him to kill a woman, but he was wrong. She was lying at his feet.
He had to make the call. Grabbing the receiver on the old landline phone, he dialled in the number. It took so long for the dial to turn back. 9 click-click-click, 9 click-click-click, 9 click-click-click.
‘Which service do you require?’
‘Ambulance – police – both.’ Her scream still drilled in his ear even though she was silent. He’d only thought to shut her up. ‘I think I’ve hurt someone.’
There was a microscopic pause before training kicked in. ‘Address, please?’
His mind went blank. Despite living here for two years, he couldn’t remember the postcode. ‘Gallant House. Blackheath. Off the Hare and Billet Road. Postcode? Can’t think …’ He scrabbled among the papers on the console table, shaking petals from the arrangement of lilacs, until he found a letter and was able to read it off.
‘And your name?’
He was in so much trouble. ‘Jonah Brigson. But don’t waste time! I need someone here right now!’
‘I’ve already dispatched an ambulance, Jonah. Please try to stay calm. I’m going to ask you about the casualty. Are they breathing?’
‘I don’t know – can’t see from here.’ She was lying on the cold tiles, a little on her side, one arm across her stomach, the other out as if reaching for something.
‘Can you keep on the line and check at the same time?’
‘Yes.’ The landlady’s reluctance to update anything in the house resulted in the phone base and vase of lilacs crashing to the floor as Jonah dragged the attached receiver with him. Water chased him over the tiles. He touched the slim throat his fingers had squeezed.
‘Are you still with me, Jonah?’
‘Yes.’
‘Are they breathing?’
‘I don’t think so. I don’t know.’
‘Do you know CPR?’
‘Yes.’ Stupid, so stupid! He’d done this enough times. He should’ve realised what to do.
‘What’s the patient’s name?’
‘I’m putting the phone down on the ground.’ Jonah gently rearranged her on to her back so he could tip her chin slightly into the required position. This felt so wrong – he the one to have hurt her now the one who would try to save her.
The voice on the line babbled away but Jonah ignored it. He began to breathe for her.
Jenny, One Year Earlier
She couldn’t stand it any longer. Jenny staggered back, hand over mouth as bile rose. Someone had thrown up in the bathroom and not cleaned after themselves. Not for the first time. But today some joker had dropped a rubber duck in the middle of it. Really, she shouldn’t have to face this; no one should.
Jenny slammed the door on the mess and ran down to the small toilet on the ground floor, which was fitted at an awkward angle under the stairs. Thankfully, it was vacant, as none of the house’s other inhabitants were up yet after last night’s party.
