Saving Silence (10 page)

‘Hi, Mia.’

‘Sam!’ Mia’s voice always sounded high-pitched over the phone. ‘What was that weird IM all about?’

‘What IM?’

‘Just now, asking what I saw.’

‘Not me.’ The by now familiar feeling of fear rose in my gut. ‘I’m sitting on a bench in the middle of nowhere. Someone else must be using my account!’

‘Oh God. I must have been talking to them online. This is beyond creepsville! Sam, what’s going on? I know this is about what happened when I was staying with you. Did you really
tell the police what you saw?’

Suddenly glaring flaws were appearing in my hiding-away plan. Either you disappear completely or you don’t; this halfway house of taking calls and ringing Tamsin to let her know I was OK
just didn’t work.

‘Of course I went to the police,’ I lied. ‘As for what’s going on, I’m not sure. But if someone’s impersonating me, what did you tell them?’

‘Nothing, at least I don’t think so.’ Mia sounded even more high-pitched now. ‘Let me check. I’ve got the window open. Hmm . . . no, I just said about me going to
the cafe, the shop man being dead—’

‘
Dead?
’

‘Didn’t you know? There was nothing on the main news here, but it’s all over the Internet. He died in hospital a few days ago. It’s terrible.’

I stared into the darkness. All the time I’d been out of my mind with worry about myself, and I hadn’t even thought about seeing if Hamdi Gul – I wasn’t even sure that
was his name – had pulled through. I suppose it must have been all over the
Metro
and maybe local news websites too, but I hadn’t picked up a paper or thought to look anything
up. I felt small and selfish.

I hadn’t just witnessed an armed robbery any more. I could write that off, pretend it didn’t really matter – I mean, people nicked stuff all the time. Carrying knives
wasn’t uncommon either. No, I’d witnessed a
murder
.

And suddenly it all made so much more sense. Of course they’d tried to kill me! They must have known that there was a chance Hamdi wasn’t going to make it, that they’d beaten
him up too badly. They needed to clean up the evidence. In other words, me.

The thought that they were afraid of what I’d seen and might do – afraid of me – was beyond weird.

‘Mia,’ I said, ‘don’t worry about me and don’t say anything, please. I’ll ring later.’

I ended the call. Mia immediately rang back but I ignored her. Think and don’t panic, I told myself. Who was impersonating me online, pumping Mia for information? Whoever it was would need
my login details. Either they’d hacked my Messenger account or they were on my computer. I felt uncomfortable as I remembered how lazy I was with online security – it was just so much
easier to get web pages to remember your passwords . . .

. . . which meant whoever it was could be in my house right now.

And oh my God! What if it was
them
?

Now I really did freak out. Tamsin was in terrible danger! They might have hurt her already! I wasn’t her biggest fan, but I didn’t want that to happen.

If it was them, it meant they knew that Mia had been there too. It wouldn’t be hard to find where she lived, not if they were in my room. Mia was just a kid! She wouldn’t be able to
protect herself if they came after her. They might try to kill her too!

And I couldn’t do anything to stop them. In a panic, I did the only thing I could think of. I dialled the home line.

It rang and rang. What was I expecting? These guys to play receptionist and pick up? Or Tamsin to answer, everything as normal? I was about to give up when I heard the click of the receiver.

‘Hello?’ It was a girl’s voice. She didn’t sound rough or hostile. In fact she sounded familiar . . .

I put on an accent. It came out a funny mix between northern and Cockney, very unconvincing, but enough, I hoped, to disguise my voice. ‘Can I speak to Tamsin, please?’

‘She’s not here. Can I take a message?’

‘No, I’ll ring back later.’ I rang off. That had been
Imogen
! What was she doing at my house? Had it been her pretending to be me on Messenger? Given the timing, it
seemed likely. At least that meant Mia was safe. But it also meant that she hadn’t been taken in by my bluffing in the kitchen the other day after all.

Is she doing this by herself or are her friends helping? Perhaps Ollie had been there, listening in . . . I really needed to know if she was alone or not. It could change everything, especially
as Imogen was asking questions that very much looked like she was getting close to the truth . . .

SUNDAY 17 NOVEMBER

The police wouldn’t let me go to the hospital. They gave me crap about ‘understanding I was upset but there was nothing I could do’. I screamed at them. I
couldn’t help it. One of them took me aside and told me that getting mad wasn’t going to help Nadina. And then I looked at the glass in the doorway of the shop and realized there was a
pool of blood and the nausea was so overpowering that I doubled up and threw up.

It could only have been about five minutes later that another police officer came over, but it seemed like a whole night had passed. This was a young guy I thought I remembered seeing on patrol
in the mall.

‘You’re Nadina’s friend, aren’t you?’ he said, kneeling in front of me.

It felt wrong to hear him say her name. ‘Tell me she isn’t dead.’

He gave me a sympathetic look. Oh God, I thought.

‘Looks like she’s going to be OK,’ he said. ‘The paramedics radioed my colleague just now. She’s badly hurt – I’m not going to lie – but
it’s not life-threatening. All right?’

All right? Was he joking? ‘What did they do to her?’

‘I don’t know any details, love. Listen, I think it’s time you let your mum take you home.’

He meant Tamsin, who was hovering nearby, one manicured hand over her mouth. I had to give it to her for not bailing the hell out.

Tamsin drove me home. I kept apologizing for getting her wound up in this, and she kept saying it was OK. Whether she meant it or not was anyone’s guess. But she was a big help with Mum,
who wasn’t too happy at being woken up. I could tell Tamsin was shocked at that. If she’d been my mum, I bet she’d have been a lot more caring.

I went straight upstairs after Tamsin left. As I closed the door to my room a thought came to me. Nadina’s shop could have been randomly attacked. But I’d place money on it being the
same people that killed Hamdi Gul. Same street, same kind of shop. If this was true, Sam was key. Most likely he knew who they were.

And I knew something too – that finding him now was on a whole new level. I considered what to do next. I didn’t have enough evidence to go to the police. Even if they took my
suspicions seriously, I’d be safer without them stirring things up. Was it worth telling Tamsin? No, I decided, not yet. She’d probably just freak out and want to tell the police. For
the moment, I was in this by myself.

The next morning I phoned Nadina’s house right away. Her brother answered and told me what had happened in more detail.

At half ten last night Nads and her dad had been in the shop. Three young guys had burst in. Two had knives. The third guy, apparently unarmed, had gone to the door, acting as lookout. Nadina
and her dad hadn’t got a good look at him. The other two had been dressed anonymously, scarves over their faces. They’d demanded the money from the till. As Nadina’s dad had been
opening it up one of them had shouted at him to hurry up and the other had struck Nadina in the jaw and broken it. I could only guess she’d been giving them lip. Despite everything, I almost
smiled. Big mouth, getting into trouble. That was very Nadina.

As if that hadn’t been enough, the guys had given her dad a roughing up too. Godssake! I felt heat rise inside me. They gave you the money! They weren’t fighting you! How bad can
your lives be that you kick people when they’re down?

‘I’m not sure they’re going to let you see her,’ Mum said when I told her I was going to the hospital. I was standing in the hall, zipping up my body warmer and trying to
find my gloves.

‘Why not?’ I said. ‘Her brother said she’s awake and she and her dad are going to be in for several days. Even if she can’t talk, I want to see her.’

‘That’s very nice of you.’

I’m not doing it to be nice, I thought, irritated. ‘See you later.’

‘Are you going out like that?’

I looked down at myself. Underneath the body warmer I’d slung on yesterday’s jeans and my volleyball T-shirt over a long-sleeved top. My trainers were mud-flecked. ‘Last I
checked, hospitals were for treating sick people, not strutting your stuff.’

‘Don’t be silly,’ Mum was wearing a printed dress, leggings and several bangles. As far as I knew, she wasn’t going anywhere special. Not with Dad anyway. He was
upstairs, either sleeping or on the computer. ‘All I meant was, you don’t need to dress like you’ve come off the track all the time. You’re a pretty girl. Make more of
yourself.’

‘Not helpful.’ My hand connected with my gloves in the pocket of another of my coats and I pulled them out. ‘Criticize my style, fine, but not now. It’s not like
I’m going out wearing a bin liner, is it? And hello! I have a boyfriend. I can’t be getting it too badly wrong.’

‘Ollie lives in sports gear too,’ Mum began, but stopped when I glared at her. ‘All right, sorry, I know this isn’t the time. Look, why don’t I drive you over? Have
a word with the nurses and see if we can find out more about what’s going on.’

‘Can do that myself, thanks.’

‘I’m only trying to help.’

Something about the way she said it made me see red. Before I could think better of it, I said, ‘That makes a change.’

Mum went quiet. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Oh come on, Mum! You weren’t too concerned about how upset I was last night. You’re only being nice now cos it’s convenient. Let’s face it – you never notice
anything to do with me or Benno unless it suits. When was the last time you said, “Well done,” to either of us?’

‘That’s not true,’ Mum began, but I carried on.

‘When we have problems, they’re not “important”. You don’t have the time, you’re tired, we should take care of ourselves. Fine, I can, but Benno’s only
eleven. I’m more of a mum to him than you are!’

Mum’s expression showed no hint of emotion. The only sign that I’d got through was her hand. It moved from the banister to smooth down her dress. ‘What exactly are you trying
to say, Imogen?’

‘Think about it. It’s not that hard. On top of this, you’re a hypocrite. Dad too, though he’s practically the invisible man these days. We all know what happened back in
Kent, when Dad went away for a few months. You’re not these perfect people you pretend you are.’

‘I’m going to ignore this,’ Mum said, very slowly. ‘You’re upset, and when you’re upset it’s very easy to lash out at those closest to you
–’

Stop talking to me like you’re a counsellor! I thought. I’m telling you what’s wrong and you’re not hearing. Even as I spoke, I knew what I was saying would really hurt
her. ‘That would be you? Sure.’

‘I think you should go before this gets worse,’ Mum said. ‘When you come back, you can apologize, and we can talk like grown-ups. I don’t expect stroppy, immature
behaviour from you, Imogen.’

Yeah, that’s right, I thought. I’m just throwing a silly strop. Forget that I’m pretty much a model daughter who never complains, who’d never act like this unless she
meant it.

Dad appeared at the top of the stairs. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Nothing you need to get involved with, Andrew,’ Mum snapped. ‘Imogen’s just leaving.’

Dad looked between us. ‘Do you want to talk, Immy? Would that help?’

I shook my head. I was too mad to talk and I doubted Dad would understand. Mum really didn’t know me at all. I could have said all this, but sometimes you reach a level of anger where the
only thing you can do is leave.

By the time I got to Whipps Cross Hospital it was early afternoon. The wards were confusing and it took me a while to find Nadina. I felt awkward as the nurse showed me to her
bed.

Nads was lying propped up by pillows with her mum holding her hand. I’d seen loads of other members of her vast family in one of the waiting rooms. I managed not to wince. I’d known
she’d look bad but this was proper rough. Her face was bloated and swollen. I could tell there’d been blood around her mouth and one ear. Her jaw was heavily bandaged.

Nadina’s eyes met mine. I waved. Nads raised her free hand and pointed to her mouth, shaking her head.

‘Change to see you speechless,’ I said. ‘Better make the most of it while it lasts, eh?’

Nadina flipped her finger at me.

‘Enough, no jokes,’ Nadina’s mother scolded. She explained that laughing was the worst thing Nadina could do right now. The surgeons had placed wires in her jaw and bound it in
place. The bandages would be off in a day or two, and the wires in six weeks – but laughing or chewing or shouting might cause problems.

She went out to get a hot drink, leaving us alone.

I settled into her chair and cleared my throat. ‘Gutted this has happened to you, babe,’ I said in a low voice. I wasn’t sure why I was whispering. Because I felt weird being
this touchy-feely? ‘Us being friends is really important to me, y’know? I’m so glad it didn’t end up worse. Frankly it’s a miracle you’ve got a sense of humour
after this. Sometimes I guess things are so crap all you can do is laugh, right?’

Nadina gave a thumbs-up. I moved to hug her, then stopped as I realized I’d knock the bandages. Nads rolled her eyes and I laughed. Suddenly things felt a lot more comfortable between us.
Weird, I thought. Right now we couldn’t communicate properly. And yet somehow I’d managed to say more to her than I ever had before.

Nadina mimed. I realized she was pretending to speak on a phone.

‘Want your mobile?’

She pointed at me. I took mine out of my pocket. Nadina held out her hand. I gave it over and she started pressing buttons. I realized she was texting.

‘Nads . . .’ I said, suddenly wary. She ignored me. After about a minute, she handed my phone back. She’d written me a message on the New Text screen.