The Silent Twin

The Silent Twin Read Free

Book: The Silent Twin Read Free
Author: Unknown
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was only natural her emotions would be all over the place, when she realised Joanna was talking about the decor, and not her missing child.
    Joanna grasped the brass door handle. ‘I’ll take you to my husband. I believe you’ve met.’
    Jennifer paused as a floorboard creaked overhead. ‘I’d really like to speak to Olivia first, if I could.’
    ‘I’m afraid that’s not possible,’ Joanna said. ‘Olivia hasn’t spoken a word since her sister’s disappearance.’
    ‘But . . .’ Jennifer said, taking a step back as she caught a glimpse of the little girl on the landing. ‘I’d like to see her, just the same.’
    ‘All in good time,’ Joanna said, leaning against the door and pushing it open. Jennifer masked her expression of disbelief as she entered the spacious kitchen. It was bigger than her hall, kitchen and living room put together. The room was milling with people, huddled together in small groups. It could have passed as a social gathering, if it were not for the attire of muddy boots, duffle coats and wax jackets. Her eyes danced over each group, picking out faces as they glanced in her direction. She immediately recognised Karen Corbett – the latest addition to Nick Duncan’s team at Lexton CID, having recently come through her probation.
    Jennifer felt a pair of eyes bore into her, and caught the gaze of a bearded man standing on his own in the corner. The tallest person in the room, he was middle-aged, with a weathered face which spoke of the outdoors. Throwing the remnants of his tea into the sink, he pulled up the furred hood of his parka and made towards the door. Joanna gave a blanket introduction to the rest of the mumbling herds of people as ‘family and friends’, as they knocked back their dregs of tea, ready to recommence searching the lands.
    ‘Who was that man in the parka?’ Jennifer said, unable to shake off his mistrustful stare. She had recognised him from somewhere, and hoped it was from a social setting, rather than one of her many arrests.
    ‘That’s Charles Radcliffe. Radcliffe, for short. He’s been helping out on the farm,’ Joanna said. She squeezed past the people to a large oak table, where her husband was sitting.
    Nick was a complete contrast to his wife. He sat with his head lowered, threading his fingers through his greying hair. He had barely noticed Jennifer enter the room, he was so engrossed in his misery.
    Joanna gently called her husband’s name, and he snapped his head up in response. His chair scraped against the black stone tiles as he pushed it back, almost knocking it over in his haste to extend a clammy hand and squeeze Jennifer’s fingers in a firm grip.
    ‘DC Knight. Have you any news?’
    Jennifer looked into his puffy red-rimmed eyes, wishing she had something positive to give him. ‘Call me Jennifer, please. As soon as I hear anything, you’ll be the first to know.’
    Nick’s gaze dropped to the floor, his eyebrows dragging his furrowed brow. This was the response Jennifer had expected; a man barely able to keep it together. Her eyes flicked to Joanna, who was humming to herself as she lifted a whistling kettle from the Aga. Something wasn’t right about this scene. The kitchen window abruptly burst open, and a cold breeze rode the goosebumps rising on her flesh. The sudden activity reinforced the urgency of her investigations. Abigail was out there somewhere, lost and scared in the wilderness. That’s if she was still alive. At just nine years old, she was blinded by bad vision, with no witnesses to her disappearance. Yet missing children were not an uncommon occurrence in the UK. The figures from morning briefing returned to haunt her, and the fact that over 140,000 children go missing in the United Kingdom each year. She recalled Olivia’s face, silent and forlorn as she stood at the rotting timber window frame – waiting for her twin. Jennifer made a silent promise. One way or another, she would bring Abigail home.

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