The Silent Cry: Part 1 of 3: There is little Kim can do as her mother's mental health spirals out of control. Cathy Glass. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Cathy Glass
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Биографии и Мемуары
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9780008156572
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      Certain details in this story, including names, places and dates, have been changed to protect the children.

      HarperElement

      An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers

      1 London Bridge Street

      London SE1 9GF

       www.harpercollins.co.uk

      First published by HarperElement 2016

      FIRST EDITION

      © Cathy Glass 2016

      A catalogue record of this book is

      available from the British Library

      Cover image © Krasimira Petrova Shishkova/Trevillion Images (posed by model)

      Cover layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2016

      Cathy Glass asserts the moral right to be

      identified as the author of this work

      All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

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      Source ISBN: 9780008153717

      Ebook Edition © February 2016 ISBN: 9780008156572

      Version: 2016-03-04

      Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

       Copyright

       Acknowledgements

      

      

       Prologue

      

      

       Chapter One: A Funny Turn

       Chapter Two: Very Concerned

       Chapter Three: Lullaby at Bedtime

       Chapter Four: Shelley

       Chapter Five: A Very Strange Phone Call

       Chapter Six: Useless

       Chapter Seven: Upset

       Chapter Eight: A Playmate?

       Chapter Nine: Samson

      

      

       Moving Memoirs eNewsletter

       About the Publisher

      A big thank you to my family; my editors, Carolyn and Holly; my literary agent, Andrew; my UK publishers HarperCollins, and my overseas publishers who are now too numerous to list by name. Last, but definitely not least, a big thank you to my readers for your unfailing support and kind words.

      The room is dark, although it’s daylight outside. Strangely dark and eerily quiet. Not a sound when there should be noise. Crying and screaming, that’s what she was expecting to hear. And the room seems smaller now too, as though the walls are gradually closing in and crushing her, crushing her to death.

      She sits huddled at one end of the sofa, too scared to look around. Scared of what she might see in this unnaturally dark and quiet room that is threatening to squeeze the air out of her and squash her to nothing. Scared, too, of what lies ahead if she stands and goes to the telephone to make that call, and tells them what she’s done. They will come and take her baby for sure if she tells them that she has given birth to the devil.

       A Funny Turn

      Everyone loves a newborn baby and wants a little look. Even those who protest that they are not ‘baby lovers’ can’t resist a peep at the miracle of a new life. I joined the other mothers grouped around the pram in the school playground as we waited with our children for the start of school.

      ‘Congratulations, he’s gorgeous,’ I said, adding my own best wishes to the many others.

      ‘Thank you,’ Laura (the new mum) said quietly, a little bemused by all the attention.

      ‘How old is he now?’ I asked.

      ‘Two weeks.’

      ‘Aah, he’s adorable.’

      ‘Make the most of every moment,’ another mother said. ‘They grow up far too quickly.’

      My own daughter, Paula, aged thirteen months, was sitting in the stroller and wanted to have a look too, so I unclipped the safety harness and lifted her out so she could see into the pram.

      ‘Baby,’ she said cutely, pointing.

      ‘Yes, that’s baby Liam,’ I said.

      ‘Baby Liam,’ she repeated with a little chuckle.

      ‘You were that small once,’ I said, and she chuckled again.

      ‘He’s my baby brother,’ Kim, Laura’s daughter, said proudly.

      ‘I know. Aren’t you a lucky girl?’ I said to her, returning Paula