His Silence - Chapter 63

The moment I’m sure Oliver’s no longer outside, I slip out of the annexe. Shit, Abraham’s over by the vegetable patch again.

‘Afternoon, Grace,’ he says, smiling at me.

I smile back. ‘You must get back ache being in that position all the time,’ I say.

He glares at me. ‘I’m used to it.’ he says, before returning to his work.

I dart into the kitchen, the back of my neck prickling. Abigail’s at the sink, peeling potatoes, humming to herself. I think it’s All Things Bright and Beautiful, we used to always sing it in school assembly. Oliver’s not here; he must be in the living room.

‘Did you see where Oliver went?’ I ask Abigail.

Abigail flicks her gaze round at me. Her stare hardens. ‘He’s in there; he might need to see you in a moment.’ She returns to the potatoes. Why did she speak to me like that, it's like she's telling me off?

I edge closer to the living room and ease open the door. Oliver’s talking to someone, a woman, she has her back to me; I squint, hang on she can’t be.

‘Grace,’ Oliver says his voice tight.

The woman he’s speaking to turns round. I have to stop myself from letting out a gasp. It’s Sarah, the police officer who was here the day Noah died. She gives me a warm smile. In an instant I want to head back outside.

‘Hi, Grace,’ Sarah says, stepping forward. ‘I was wondering if you could spare a few moments for me to ask you a few more questions?’

‘About Noah?’ I ask.

‘That’s right,’ she says, stepping closer to me. ‘Have you got five minutes?’

Why’s Sarah come back on her own? They must’ve found something. She wouldn’t have come back if the police did think Noah committed suicide.

‘Um, yes, sure,’ I say.

‘I’ll leave you two alone,’ Oliver says.

‘Actually, I was thinking perhaps we could have this conversation outside,’ Sarah suggests, her eyes flicking towards the window. ‘It’s such a lovely day; it would be a shame not to make the most of it.’

She wants to talk to me without the risk of anyone overhearing. 

‘OK, yeah, that’s fine,’ I say.

Oliver’s smiling but there’s strain in his forehead.

‘Excellent, well, there’s no time like the present, is there?’ Sarah says. ‘Don’t worry, Oliver, I’ll have her back in one piece.’