The Silent House - Laura Elliot Page 0,29

of a dragon embroidered on the back. His mouth was open but the noise from below made it impossible to hear what he was shouting. She imagined smoke churning; thick smoke filling his lungs. He raised his hands, as if he was striking the fly tippers with streaks of lighting from his fingertips. His hands were as raw as the skin on his face and she noticed for the first time that two fingers on one hand were missing. He stayed in that electrifying position for an instant longer then, as if the fury that had brought him to the window suddenly deserted him, his long, thin body crumpled to the floor.

What was she to do? The thought of touching him terrified her yet she was already moving from her hiding place. The smell rising from the rubbish was revolting. It stung her eyes, caught in her throat. Instinctively, she moved to the window and pulled it closed. The fly tippers were leaving, red rear lights on two trucks blinking as they turned onto the avenue. The moon, pale and clipped as a fingernail, rocked in an indigo sky. She retched, tears stinging her cheeks as she bent over his still form and reached for his pulse. His wheezy breath was the only indication that he was still alive.

Chapter Fourteen

Sophy

Making love to Luke in their bedroom in Parkview Villas; the pleasure building, familiar yet stronger than ever before, an almost painful intensity that awakened Sophy into a sensuous awareness that she had been dreaming. The old house seemed to be convulsed with noise and she wondered drowsily if she had drifted off into another dream, only this time it had become a nightmare. Another crash jolted her into full wakefulness. The noise was real, and growing louder. She switched on the bedside lamp and ran to the window. Nothing to see except her startled reflection and, beyond that, the cobbled backyard and outhouses. The noise was coming from the front of the house. No mistaking the clunk and clink of fly tipping. She had seen the site of the dumps, the plastic bags ballooning in the wind, the scraps of paper clinging like crushed butterflies to the branches of dead trees. Victor said Hyland Estate was in its death throes and was seen by notorious fly tippers as an easy target. She almost collided with Isobel when she opened her bedroom door.

‘Mr Hyland’s on the floor in his living room.’ Isobel was breathing heavily, her eyes red-rimmed and watering. ‘I think he’s dying. The dumpers were in the courtyard. The smell is terrible. I closed the window but I don’t think he can breathe properly.’

She was running towards the stairs while Isobel was still explaining what had occurred outside. ‘Make sure all the windows are closed downstairs and check that Julie’s okay,’ she said when Isobel tried to follow her. ‘Go out through the annexe and head towards the stables. I’ll phone Victor and ask him to collect you.’

The faint odour on the landing grew stronger as Sophy entered the living room. Jack had hit his forehead when he fell. Blood streaked his face but he was still breathing. He gave a low moan when she bent over him to check his pulse and raised his hand before letting it fall limply to his side.

‘Jack, can you hear me?’ He groaned again and his good eyelid fluttered, as if in acknowledgement.

‘I need to get you out of here. Can you lean on me?’ She draped his arms around her shoulders and took his weight as he tried to rise. Somehow, he gathered enough strength to stand upright and she was able to support him to his bedroom. He was just a bundle of bones, she thought. A stick figure held together by stubbornness and determination. She stuffed towels along the door saddle and against the window frames. The air was still clear but it was only a matter of time before the stench permeated the house.

‘You’re going to be fine, Jack.’ She applied a cannula to his nostrils and switched on an oxygen tank.

‘They won’t beat me. I’m not done yet.’

‘Jack, stop… stop. You’re wasting energy.’

When his breathing had steadied, she rang for an ambulance and was relieved to receive a clear signal. The emergency responder who took her call promised to send an ambulance immediately. Victor sounded sleepy when he answered his phone.

‘I need your help,’ she said. ‘Jack has collapsed. Can you come over right now and take

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