The Sound of Silence
IF YOU were to ask Harry Tremayne what his favourite sound in the whole world was, he wouldn’t hesitate. Not for a second.
“Silence,” he’d say. “The sound of silence.”
And there was a good reason why Harry treasured silence above everything. His family.
He was the oldest of six children, five of whom were as noisy as a flock of starlings. He’d often wondered why flocks of starlings were sometimes called murmurations. Starlings, like his siblings, didn’t murmur. They shouted, squabbled and chattered nonstop.
Even the Tremayne family dogs were noisy. They barked at empty chip packets bowling along the road and yapped at everyone from the postman to the man who read the 8pm news. Harry grew up in a cacophony of noise – and he couldn’t leave it quickly enough.
Not that he didn’t love his family.
