I don’t see Callum again until dinner that evening. At least Oliver hasn’t asked me to wear the dress again. It was uncomfortable enough wearing it last night. I’ve still not been given a pair of white clothes, the same everyone else wears. It’s like Oliver’s going out of his way to make me stand out. I don’t like it, as weird as I find everyone else wearing the same clothes is; at least I wouldn’t be the odd one out.

‘Grace, do you want to sit next to me?’ Oliver calls out.

Callum’s already sitting at the table. Eve’s sat beside him. She tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear. It would be obvious from a mile off how much she fancies him.

‘Um, yeah, sure,’ I reply.

I head over to the seat beside him and sit. Once everyone else has sat, Oliver takes my plate and begins to load it with food.

‘I was wondering, Grace, if you would like to come out with me for dinner tomorrow evening?’

I cut a piece of quiche, it’s roasted vegetable, not my favourite, but there’s no way they’re going to be serving a Quiche lorraine here.

‘Um . . . where d’you want to go?’ I ask a nervous shiver racing through me. Why does he want to go out with me? I thought they never left this place, unless it’s to get food in for the week ahead.

‘Somewhere in town, there’s a wonderful Italian nearby I think you’d like, I know we don’t eat meat here, but they do an amazing steak. I sometimes indulge in it every now and again. But that’s our little secret.’ He keeps his voice low.

Has he ever asked anyone else here to go out with him for dinner? I look further down the table; at least no one else is looking in our direction. Eve’s doing her best to make conversation with Callum. Oliver’s making it sound as though he goes out for dinner on a regular basis.

‘Um, OK, sure,’ I say. ‘That would be nice.’

God, I want to be sitting next to Callum. Eve laughs at something Callum’s said. Butterflies dance in my stomach; at least Abigail will be pleased to see them getting along so well.

‘Excellent, we’ll leave here at around six pm, don’t worry we won’t be out late. I’ll tell Mary to exclude you from helping to prepare dinner tomorrow.’    

I nod, and take another bite of the quiche, trying not to show the disappointment in my face as I taste roasted vegetable. It’s as I put my fork down I notice there’s an empty space right at the far end of the table. I frown. The only person who isn’t here is Noah.

‘Oliver, where’s Noah?’ I ask, my heart rate beginning to increase.

Oliver looks at me. ‘Oh, he’s not well I’m afraid, he’s up in his room. Mary’s taken some food up for him; hopefully he’ll be alright tomorrow.’

I stare into my lap and bite my lip. Oliver starts to speak to Jeremiah who’s sitting the other side of him. I try to listen to their conversation, above the noise of everyone else talking, but there’s nothing they say to each other that jumps out at me. They’re just talking about the general day to day running of the place.

‘Oliver, can I ask you how long you’ve been here?’ I say.

Oliver switches his gaze round to me, taking a sip of his water. ‘Well, I moved here with your parent’s way back in 1996, a year after your brother was born.’

I file the information away inside my head. 

‘What’s with the name, Raven House?’ I ask, thinking again of Isaac’s raven tattoo.

Oliver smiles. ‘That was your father’s suggestion. Do you know how intelligent ravens are?’ I shake my head. ‘Your father was fascinated with them, he was a keen artist as well when I knew him and they were his favourite bird to draw. Plus there’s also the legend of the ravens at the Tower of London, you must’ve heard if the ravens were to ever abandon the castle, the Tower of London itself and the country will fall.’

I nod. I went on a school trip to the Tower once. I can still remember the Beefeater’s booming voice as he told us the legend, a chord of fear in his voice, almost as if it might, one day, come true.

I think of Noah, and all of a sudden I lose my appetite.