His Silence - Chapter 72

After breakfast I slip into the garden and mooch back to the annexe. There’s the electricity of a storm in the air, chilling my skin; clouds are rolling in from the coast, bubbling up like a potion in a witch’s cauldron, that’s what Emma used to always say whenever there was a storm when I was kid.

I’ve no idea how long it’s going to be before Oliver feels I should move back into my room, but I want Mum’s diary. I didn’t have a chance to remove it from the room yesterday. I slip into the annexe, easing the door shut behind me to make sure it doesn’t slam. I’m about to head into my room when voices reach my ears. It’s Mary. Her voice is coming from Oliver’s room. I freeze; I hadn’t seen either of them when I was in the dining room. They must think I’m back up at the house.

‘Do you not think you were a little too hasty in your decision yesterday?’ she asks.

I frown, is she asking about Oliver’s decision to expel Abraham? Does she think he should’ve been permitted to stay?

‘You didn’t see the look in his face, Mary. It was like he was possessed; he would’ve killed her if I hadn’t been there and stepped in,’ Oliver replies.  

‘Yes I know, but . . .’

‘But what? He’s lucky we didn’t call the police,’ Oliver says, spitting the words out.

‘Yes, but . . . might he not go to the police now that he’s outside,’ Mary says.

I stiffen. What does Abraham know? I want to edge closer to the door so I can hear better, but I dare not, one creak of the floorboard might give me away.

‘If he does they won’t listen to him,’ Oliver says. ‘They’ll see him as a washed up drunk, that’s all. I don’t think there’s anything for us to worry about.’

‘But that Sarah woman, the one who came back to speak to Grace, she, she think’s something’s going on. She might be more inclined to listen to him.’ There’s menace in Mary’s voice that makes my toes curl.

‘Abraham won’t go to the police, Mary,’ Oliver says, his voice coming out fierce. God, it’s the first time I’ve ever heard him use that tone with her. ‘Heck, I’ll be surprised if he even makes it into town.’ Oliver almost laughs as he says the last part of his sentence.

‘What about Grace though,’ Mary says. ‘I still don’t trust her; she’s not warming to us like you said she would. She’s still too suspicious.’

My heart’s banging in my chest.

‘She will come round,’ Oliver says. ‘It’s only been a little over a week since she first came here, don’t forget.’

‘Yes, but everyone else –’

‘Grace is on a different journey to everyone else. Eve conformed quickly because of the situation she was in. Yes, Grace has suffered trauma, like Eve in her past, but she’s been raised by a loving family since then. If there’s a way, somehow that we can shake that off.’

Shake that off. I think of Emma and Michael at home, still thinking Callum and I are off on holiday, touring all over Europe. Tears prick my eyes. Oliver wants to make me forget about them. Is that his aim?

‘She spoke to her brother before she came here, didn’t she?’ Mary says. ‘Do you we know exactly what he said?’

‘No, but –’

‘I think you should’ve just told her right from the start,’ Mary cuts across him. ‘It would’ve saved us a hell of a lot of bother.’

Told me what?

‘We must be patient, Mary. Things will work out, they always do; I’ll make sure of it. If in the meanwhile you keep working on Callum, that’ll really help.’

Working on Callum, what the hell does he mean?

Mary sighs. ‘I want to believe you, Oliver, I do, but I just have a feeling, that . . . never mind, look, I better get back to the house. I’ll see you at lunch, I suppose.’

I tiptoe to my room, easing the door open as quietly as I can and dive inside, my chest tight. Please don’t hear me, please don’t hear me. As I push my door shut I hear Mary open Oliver’s door and step out into the hallway, the floorboards outside creak. At least my curtains in the room are closed. She won’t be able to see me as she heads back to the house. But Oliver’s still in his room, I’m going to have to stay here until he leaves. I flick my gaze to where Oliver had Abraham pinned to the ground yesterday, there’s still blood on the carpet. I sink to the floor, letting out a shallow breath. The storm outside breaks and rain begins to strike the window.