I push open the kitchen door the next morning and the sound of people chatting immediately gives me a headache. Mary’s standing by the sink chatting to Abigail, a mug of tea in her hand. She glances across to me, before switching her gaze to Abigail, not even bothering to say morning. I must’ve drifted off to sleep some point after I got back into bed. I keep picturing Oliver in my mind last night, lying awake in bed listening to me head out of the annexe and returning, after my confrontation with Mary. I’m sure he knows I went back to the house, and if he doesn’t, there’s going to be no way Mary’s going to keep it from him.

Callum’s already sitting beside Eve at breakfast. They're leaning in close together as they talk, watching them makes my skin bristle.

‘Morning, Callum,’ I say, taking the empty seat next to him before Oliver can ask me to join him at the head of the table.

He looks around; Eve’s face pinches tight. ‘Oh, hi, Grace,’ he murmurs.

I stare at him. I thought he wasn’t going to call me by that name.

‘Sleep well?’ I ask, helping myself to some orange juice.

‘Um, yeah,’ he says, leaning back in his seat.

‘Oh, I haven’t interrupted anything, have I?’ I ask, grabbing some toast.

‘No, no, it’s fine, we were just talking,’ he says.

‘I could see that,’ I say. ‘Eve would you mind passing the marmalade?’

She smiles and grabs the jar before passing it across to me. God, I’ve a feeling if Mary was here she’d be tearing me away from them. I shake the thought out of my head.

‘Looking forward to your dinner this evening?’ Callum asks a hint of jealousy to his voice.

I spread a thick lump of marmalade on my toast, but to me it looks sickly now. I put the toast back onto the plate. ‘Um, feeling a bit nervous about it if I’m honest,’ I reply.

Eve widens her eyes. ‘Grace, you know how lovely Oliver is,’ she says. ‘You’ll have a great time, I know the place he’s taking you to, I used to go there years ago, before, well, you know what happened.’

I shake my head. ‘I don’t get it though, why is he taking me?’

Eve smiles. ‘I’m sure he’ll explain everything to you later, I’m jealous, I wish I was going.’

The door to the living room opens. Noah half-stumbles into the room. His eyes are bloodshot. Perhaps what Mary was saying about him was correct.

‘Sorry, ex-cuesme one sec,’ I say getting up; I can feel Callum and Eve’s eyes on me as I cross the room. Noah sits at the other end of the table, but it doesn’t look as though he has much of an appetite. ‘Noah, hi,’ I say.

He looks up at me. ‘What are you doing?’ he hisses.  

‘Can I sit down?’ I ask.

The silence stretches out between us. He’s going to say no.

‘Erm, ok, sure,’ he replies.

I take the seat next to him. ‘I hope you’re feeling better.’

He picks up the tray filled with scrambled eggs, and heaps a ladleful onto his plate.

‘Feeling a little more sprightly this morning, but not one hundred per cent there,’ he says. ‘There was no way I could’ve made it down to dinner last night.’

‘Noah, did you manage to speak to Callum yesterday when you went to the shops?’

Noah eats a mouthful of scrambled egg. ‘I told you, Danielle, you made a mistake coming back here.’

At least he isn’t using the name Oliver gave me.

‘But you won’t tell me why I made a mistake,’ I say. ‘I came here because . . . because my brother told me he didn’t kill my parents. If that’s true, then he’s been in prison for the last fifteen years for something he didn’t do.’

Noah continues to shovel eggs into his mouth. It’s like he wants to get away from me as quickly as possible. Noah picks up his plate and stands up.

‘You need to be wary of Oliver, Danielle. He pretends to have your best interests at heart, but.’ He shakes his head. ‘Your parents made the mistake in trusting him, and they paid for it with their lives.’

Noah takes his plate through into the kitchen, leaving me sitting on my own at the table.