His Silence - Chapter 79

I hold my phone tight for the rest of the afternoon, expecting to hear from Max any second, nothing comes through. What if the address he’s sent the query to at the archive centre isn’t working anymore? There might not even be anyone there to see the email.

It’s mine and Callum’s turn to help with the washing up after dinner this evening. Everyone else is still in the dining room chatting, at least they seem to have forgotten, or moved on from what happened to the mini bus today. I didn’t notice anyone go out and try and clean the spray paint off earlier.

‘You were gonna talk to me about how you got on with Mary earlier on,’ I say, placing a plate on the washing up rack. My heart begins to thump hard against my chest.

Callum looks over his shoulder, pursing his lips.

‘It got really weird this morning,’ he says, rubbing his neck.

‘Weird how?’ I ask.

He turns his attention back to the sink. ‘She started talking about my family and your family; I remembered what you’d said about hearing her speaking to Oliver, but . . .  God, it was so convincing the way she came out with it. I had to keep focusing on what you told me. I just pretended to go along with what she was saying.’

‘What did she say?’ I ask, lowering my voice.

There’s a burst of laughter coming from the living room, but no one comes into the kitchen. My heart rate continues to increase. Callum’s not looking at me in the eye, it’s like he’s trying to work out if he should tell me or not. Come on, Callum, say something. Please.

‘She was going on about . . . about Dad being the reason Mum died.’

‘What?’

‘Keep your voice down,’ he hisses. ‘She was quite intense about it, not gentle at all.’

‘Fuck,’ I say.

‘She said if he’d been stronger he could’ve saved her.’

I shake my head. ‘You know that’s not true, Callum, don’t you?’

‘I don’t know what to think,’ he murmurs.

I place my gloved hand on his shoulder. ‘Callum, you can’t seriously be thinking that what she’s telling you is true, are you?’

‘But what if it is? I was only four at the time Mum died, I can’t really remember, what . . . perhaps Dad missed certain signs, if he’d been . . .’

‘Your mum died from cancer, Callum, there was nothing your dad, or the doctors could’ve done, it was terminal, you know this. Mary’s trying to mess with your head; you know how much your dad loves you.’

Tears form in his eyes. ‘It went on for about an hour,’ he says, wiping his face. ‘I had to splash my face in cold water afterwards it was that intense.’ I yank off the washing up gloves and sling them on the counter. Callum frowns at me. ‘What are you doing?’

‘I’m gonna message Max, see if he’s heard anything, the waiting’s driving me insane.’ I’m not going to allow Mary to tell Callum his dad is responsible for what happened to his mum. She knows nothing. There’s no way I’m going to let her get inside Callum’s head.

‘Danielle, it’s only been a day since you spoke to him,’ he says.

‘I know and look what’s happened since,’ I say. I type out a message to him and press send. He can’t be having second thoughts about helping me because of what happened to him in the past, can he? ‘If we don’t find out the truth we’re not going to be able to leave, we’ll be putting our families in danger if we do.’

The door to the kitchen open and Abigail enters, carrying a glass of water.

‘Oh, Callum, you’re in here, Mary would like to have a word with you,’ she says, a slight hint of curiosity to her voice.

I freeze. Callum continues to dry the glass he’s holding. ‘What now?’ he asks, his eyes flickering between me and her.

Say you feel ill, say can it wait until tomorrow; I try to urge Callum, fixing my gaze on him. He keeps his eyes fixed on Abigail.

‘Yes, she’s in the dining room, I’ll help Grace with the rest of the washing up.’ Abigail breezes over towards me, and places her glass on the kitchen table.

Don’t go Callum, don’t go. He wipes his hands down his trousers.

‘See you later,’ he grumbles.

He crosses the kitchen and heads into the living room. He’s walking straight into Mary’s arms; she’s going to turn his head. I’m going to lose him.

‘So, how are you feeling after what happened today, Grace?’ Abigail asks, picking up a plate Callum left on the draining board.

‘Oh, I . . .’ she’s the first person who’s mentioned what happened since we got back. No one spoke about it at dinner. ‘Fine, I guess, a bit shaken up.’

‘People just don’t understand us,’ Abigail says, scrunching the cloth in the sink tighter. ‘They think stuff goes on here when it doesn’t. We’re a family, but then you know that, don’t you?’

‘Yes, I do,’ I reply, my cheeks burning. It was a mistake to come here. I should never have dragged Callum into this. ‘Has Mary or Oliver never reported this sort of thing to the police?’

Abigail shakes her head. ‘Oh no, it’s not worth getting the police involved, they’ll only give the people who did it a slap on the wrist anyway. It’s far better to not let it bother us. We can show them then that we’re stronger than they are.’

I focus on the pots still in the washing up bowl. What the hell is Mary saying to Callum now?