Silent Scream

Fifty-Four

Beth leafed through a magazine. She had no idea what it was but she was making a point.

She could feel Nicola's anxiety. They had not spoken since Beth had returned. She knew her sister. Nicola wanted to ask her what was wrong but was scared of the answer. The truth was, she couldn't cope with the answer.

Nicola had always hated it when people were angry with her. She was a people pleaser. She wanted everyone to be happy. And that trait had cost her. It had cost them both.

And her eagerness to please was going to cost them again.

Beth was so angry she could not raise her head. She stared down at the page. Nicola would not be able to hold her tongue for much longer. Beth turned a page nonchalantly.

‘Myra spoke to me yesterday,’ Nicola offered. ‘She said you were very rude to her.’

‘I was,’ Beth said. If her sister chose to talk to her about inconsequential matters rather than address the real problems between them, that was fine with her. Nicola would break eventually.

‘Why do you have to be so mean? The woman has done nothing to you.’

Beth shrugged. ‘She's a nosey old cow who wants to ger in everybody's business. Why do yer care what she thinks?’

‘Because she's my neighbour and I have to live here.’ Nicola paused. ‘Did you tell her I was adding you to the lease?’

Beth smiled to herself. That little nugget must have kept the bitch awake for hours.

‘Yeah, that was me.’

‘Are you trying to make my life difficult while you're here?’

‘Yer know, Nic. I asked yer to do something and yer ignored me. Yer asked me to be nice to the old hag and I ignored yer. What's the difference?’

‘For goodness sake, Beth, I know you're angry with me. Will you just tell me why?’

Beth smiled inside. She knew her sister so well. She always had.

She turned another page. ‘Which reason do yer want?’

‘Any reason you'll give me. Anything that will stop this silent treatment. You know I hate it when you're angry with me.’

Oh yes, Beth knew very well.

‘I told yer not to talk to her.’

‘To who?’ Nicola asked. The question in her voice was forced. Nicola knew well and good who she was talking about.

She turned another page, knowing it would frustrate her sister even further. Nicola wanted her full attention. She hated that Beth could still sit and focus on something else instead of being completely consumed by the atmosphere between them. As she was.

‘You mean the detective?’ Nicola asked.

‘Uh-huh.’

‘Jesus, Beth, how can you be so cold? They're finding bodies buried where we used to live.’

‘And?’

‘We knew these girls. We spoke to them, we ate with them. How can you not even care?’

‘‘Cos they ain't nothing to me. I didn't even like ‘em, so why should I care now?’

‘Because they're dead and whatever they did wrong, they didn't deserve to die. Some monster just put them in the ground and forgot about them. I have to try and help.’

‘You're more bothered about them than yer are about me.’

‘What are you talking about?’

This time the confusion was real. And there it was. They could never move on until Nicola admitted what she'd done.

‘Yer knew what they did to me and yer did fuck all about it.’

‘Beth, I don't know who did what to you. Tell me.’

She flicked another page of the magazine and shook her head. ‘Ask the detective, maybe she'll tell yer what yer did ‘cos you're hell bent on gerring yerself involved.’

‘Only because I know it is somehow connected to us.’

Beth's hand stilled in mid-air. The page fell from her grip. That her sister had made that connection was progress in itself. She wanted Nicola to remember. She wanted an apology. She wanted to hear the words she'd waited ten years for.

But not quite yet.

‘I'm telling yer, Nic, leave it alone.’

‘But I want it all out in the open.’ Beth heard the emotion in her sister's voice. She didn't look. She couldn't look.

‘Beth, I wish I knew what I'd done to hurt you. How I failed you so terribly. You're my sister. There are too many secrets between us. I love you and I just want to know the truth.’

Beth threw the magazine to the side and stood.

‘Nic, be careful what yer wish for ... ‘cos yer might just ger it.’