A Comfortable Silence

By Anna Carey

Illustration: Shutterstock

UPLIFTING SHORT STORY WRITTEN BY JO STYLES

This strange, loud howling noise wasn’t the only thing driving me round the bend!

My little sister, Molly, woke me up again. She was always stomping about when I was trying to get to sleep – only this time she didn’t want a glass of water or to complain that her room was too cold.

“What’s that howling noise?” she yelled instead.

“You’re the howling noise,” I retorted from under my duvet.

I heard her stamp her foot down on the landing carpet.

“I didn’t ask you, Beth.”

I’d put up with her for six whole years. I thought she’d get quieter as she got older, but sometimes even loud music doesn’t drown her out.

Not that I’d dare play any at eight pm. Eight! She went to bed at seven.

I threw the covers aside and did a bit stomping myself, though I rarely bother now I’m twelve.

No one was waiting on the landing when I reached it. No, Molly already stood in Mum’s room. When I stuck my head round the door I saw her standing with her hands over her ears.

“Why doesn’t it stop?”

There was a high-pitched, endless whine in the distance.

“I know it’s horrible, sweetheart – but there’s nothing we can do about it right now.” Mum wrapped my sister in her arms.

“It’s some factory somewhere, that’s all,” I said. “Go to bed, Molly. Ignore it.”

In his fluffy dressing gown, Chris moved over to the window. Mum had been seeing him for almost eighteen months, though Molly and I had only known him for four. He often stayed over at weekends.

He’s tall, blond and a bit of a know-it-all. He pulled the curtain aside then fiddled about getting the window open. The noise got even worse.

I padded up to have a proper listen.

“It must be coming from somewhere on the industrial estate,” I said.

“Or it’s the supermarket warehouse, or that big distribution centre, or the sewage farm,” he added. “Whatever it is, I’ll find it tomorrow. We can’t have our little Molly kept awake.”

I glowered.

Our little Molly? What are you on about? She’s my little Molly.

“I can’t sleep,” Molly wailed.

She still annoyed me, but she was family, and Mum says that’s what counts.

None of us slept much that night. Luckily the next day was Saturday so I didn’t have to go to school. While Mum, Chris and Molly ate breakfast at the table, I hurried around collecting supplies and putting them in my rucksack.

“Where are you going?” asked Mum.

“Out on my bike, looking for the howl for Molly.” I gave my sister a big, wide grin and she looked at me suspiciously as if I’d been replaced during the night by an impostor.

“You’re not going on your own,” Mum said. “You know the rules.”

“It’s all right, I’m meeting Amy at her house. We’ve both got phones and we’ll stick to the cycle lanes, promise.”

I wasn’t telling the truth about my best friend. When I’d called earlier, Amy had griped and grumbled.

“No way am I going out in the cold, Beth. Go on your own.”

Even so, I grabbed more chocolate biscuits and a can of cola from the fridge then I headed out the door.

A cold autumn wind hit me. Pulling my scarf up, I unlocked the shed with the key Mum hid under a flowerpot. I pulled out my bike, pushed it to the end of the drive, stopped and listened.

The howl still howled, though it sounded a bit fainter because the wind had shifted. I knew for a fact that Chris would be out later, driving round in his flashy estate trying to look like a hero. Oh look at me, I can solve everything.

I knew, too, because I’d checked earlier on my phone, that complaints about The Howl were spreading across loads of local sites.

I got on my bike and turned onto the cycle lane. I estimated it would take about twenty minutes to reach the edge of town and the A-road that led to the industrial estate. I could safely stay on cycle lanes all the way.

I was right. Twenty minutes later, I reached my destination.

On the way, the howl had increased with every turn of my wheels. I felt happy knowing I’d got it right.

I dismounted and walked down the narrow pavement that passed by a whole load of local firms, all of them in box-like buildings made of metal.

“Oh come on, that’s not fair.”

My breath streamed into the cold air. The noise had stopped dead.

I waited ages, willing it to start again. Meanwhile a lorry trundled by, followed by a van, both heading into the warren of workshops. It looked as if every single unit here stayed open at the weekend.

“This is for Molly,” I said as if the howl would hear me. “It’s not for me. Honest.”

That’s when a car honked its horn and made me jump. When I turned, I glared. A bright red estate had pulled up to the kerb. The window wound down and Chris leaned across the passenger seat.

I spoke before he got a chance.

“What are you doing here? I thought you’d check the supermarket distribution depot and the sewage works first?”

His eyes narrowed.

“Where’s Amy?”

“She cancelled because of the cold.”

“You shouldn’t be out here all on your own, Beth. You know that. You should do what your mum says.”

I knew for a fact he didn’t always do what Mum said. He didn’t always put the butter back in the fridge or close the bread bag. He left empty crisp packets in the lounge, and Mum hated mess.

“Do you want me to put your bike in the back?” he asked. “Then we’ll look together.”

“No, thanks, I’ll look by myself. It definitely came from here and I got here first.”

“It’s not a competition,” said the man coming in second.

He unclipped his seatbelt, climbed out then opened the car boot.

“There’s loads of room for your bike in here. It won’t get scratched. Come on.”

I let him take charge. Then I treated the sky to a roll of my eyes. I’m going to regret this.

“Climb in. Get warm,” he urged.

Once I put my bag in the footwell and Chris had climbed back into the driver’s seat, he set the heater at full blast. I peeled off my gloves and frowned. I’d a feeling he’d make a speech because he did love the sound of his own voice.

“I get it, Beth. You want to look after your family. You don’t want some stranger butting in. I don’t want to take over. I don’t want to be your dad, either; you’ve already got one of those. I would like us to get along, though. One day we might even be friends.”

I’d heard it all before, so I tuned him out. Mum kept saying the same things.

With him still rambling on, I pointed up ahead. Far, far away as the street turned a bend, I could see a car park next to a blue industrial unit.

“You see those men down there in red overalls? What are they doing?”

Chris leaned over the steering wheel.

“I don’t know.” He squinted. “Oh, hang on. Is that a . . . yes! I think I know what they’re lugging about.”

“What?” I asked as he started the car, shoved it into gear then put his foot down. He sped down the Tarmac towards the men. They were carting something big towards a lorry.

As we got closer, I realised what it was.

“That’s a fan, isn’t it? Like the one in our bathroom, only huge.”

“Yes,” Chris agreed. “I bet it’s part of the factory’s air conditioning system.”

He passed by some big grey gates as he turned into the car park. He pulled in close to the cab of the waiting lorry, then rolled down his window.

“Hi there,” he called to the men in red overalls. “We’re looking for the cause of a noise. A howl. It went on all last night. It stopped this morning.”

The two men gave him a glare.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, mate,” said one.

“No idea,” said the other.

Chris gave me a glance and our eyes locked. “Liars,” I mouthed.

Chris rolled his window back up, put the car in reverse and backed out.

“They must have seen the complaints online,” he said as he pulled up on the opposite side of the road to the gates. “I bet it’s some kind of environmental health issue. Maybe they expected a fine so decided to get that howling fan out of the factory this morning.”

“Are you going to take some photos and tell on them?” I asked.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Oh, fabulous. You won’t tell Mum about me not coming out here without Amy then, either?”

Chris raised his eyebrows and I crossed my arms.

“Fine, tell her if you like. I don’t care.”

“I thought I’d tell her we found the howl together instead. She’d like that. It really isn’t a competition, Beth. I think we’ve made a good team, don’t you?”

A team? Really? I did a bit of pointing; he did a bit of driving and said a few words to two men. Still, he sat looking hopeful.

I had come out for Molly’s sake. The trouble being, she adored Chris. So did Mum. It was like he was a puppy or something, no matter what he did or what mess he made they’d coo over him, smile and laugh.

Even so, Mum says you can’t like everybody instantly. Sometimes you have to work at it. You have to hunt down their good points – only I guessed she didn’t mean on my bike in the cold.

“Yes, OK, if you insist. We found the howl together.”

“Really? You agree?”

I wasn’t used to making Chris happy. I didn’t expect the big soppy grin, the shining eyes or the offer he made next.

“I know, why don’t we go for a burger?”

“It’s only ten o’clock, Chris.”

“Oh right, we’ll need something with eggs then, something breakfasty. It’ll give us a chance to make sure we’re right about that fan causing the noise. We can sit and chat. You can tell me all about school and what you get up to.”

Ugh! I grimaced.

“Do I have to? After last night, I think I need some peace and quiet.”

“Oh, OK. We can be like mice if you like. I don’t mind.”

As he drove, heading towards a nearby burger joint, we did sit in silence. I thought it would make me uneasy, him not saying a word for once, but instead it felt all right. It was, what do they call it – a comfortable silence?

Yes, I thought. He’s not so irritating when he’s not trying so hard. Maybe he’s not so bad after all?

Maybe he’d buy me a cheesy bacon flatbread and a strawberry milkshake. Oh, and some ice cream? If he did all that, maybe he deserved a chance.