His Silence - Chapter 25

‘Sorry I didn’t respond to your messages, Mary took my phone off me last night,’ Callum says, taking a sip of his orange juice. Oliver insisted I try some as well earlier, when I came down to breakfast; telling me it was freshly squeezed. ‘I tried to hang onto it but she got a bit shirty with me, so I felt I needed to hand it over. I think Jeremiah must’ve told her I tried taking a photograph of the house when we first arrived. She didn’t threaten me as such, but I could see it in her face. Did she not take yours off you as well?’

I shake my head, balancing my elbows on the white table cloth. ‘No, I thought that was a bit weird, if I’m honest, like with my door being left unlocked as well. Oliver says that could’ve been a mistake, but there’s something about the way he said it that doesn’t quite make me believe him. It’s OK though, Oliver told me Mary would’ve taken your phone, so I realised that you weren’t, well . . . I thought, I thought you were ignoring me at first.’

‘I’d never ignore you, Danielle,’ he says, looking at me with pleading eyes. ‘When did you end up speaking to Oliver?’

I glance down the table. There are a couple of people seated at the far end still eating breakfast, but that’s it. I eye the woman with curly red hair, her face is turned away from me; she’s sitting next to the person I saw chatting to Mary at dinner last night, with the tattoo of the bird on his neck, a plate of scrambled eggs in front of her. Oliver went back out to the annexe earlier, telling me he needed to meditate. That was half an hour ago. He’d spoken to me a little bit earlier about coming back to live here, and then he’d given me his phone number.

‘It was at three a.m. in the morning. I woke up, thinking someone had been in my room. I went downstairs to find you, and that’s when I found Oliver, sitting in the kitchen.’

‘You thought someone was in your room,’ Callum says, leaning closer towards me.

‘I thought there was. It doesn’t mean anyone was though.’ 

‘You should’ve woken me,’ he says.

‘I tried; I was banging on the living room door. Didn’t you hear us when Oliver unlocked it?’

He shakes his head. ‘Strangely enough I actually slept really well on the sofa. Normally when I sleep on someone else’s sofa it takes me ages to get to sleep. So do you think it was Oliver then, who was in your room?’

‘I told you, I could’ve imagined it,’ I hiss at him.

I glance up as Mary wanders into the room from the kitchen with a big smile on her face. Mary's green eyes flicker over to me.

‘Did you sleep well, Danielle?’ she asks, drifting over to us.

Does she know about me sitting in the kitchen with Oliver last night? My heart thrums against my chest. Would Oliver have told her about my bedroom door being unlocked last night?

‘Err, yeah, I did, thanks,’ I reply.

‘We really hope you’ll come back and take up your old room here,’ Mary says. ‘How did you sleep Callum? I hope the sofa wasn’t too uncomfortable for you.’

‘Yes, fine, thanks.’

Why do I get the sense she’s come over to us to try and work out what we’re talking about? I shift in my seat.

‘I think we’re going to head off in about half an hour or so,’ I say. ‘Oliver’s kindly given me his phone number, so I’ll let him know soon if I want to come back.’

‘Wonderful,’ Mary says. ‘Well, I hope you have a safe journey home and I hope very much to see you back here again soon.’

Mary drifts towards the kitchen.

Callum mouths, ‘weirdo,’ at me and I have to resist the urge to laugh.

‘Right, we can leave in half an hour, can’t we? I’m just gonna go upstairs and grab my things,’ I say, getting up from my seat.

‘Yeah, that’s fine with me, I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait to get out of this place.’

‘Shhsh,’ I hiss at him, keeping my eye on the other people still sitting at the other end of the table.

I pick up my empty bowl and take it through into the kitchen, the smell of freshly baked croissants hitting me as I step inside. It looks like everything’s been stacked on the worktop waiting to be loaded into the dishwasher. I think back to how clean it was last night, when I was sitting in here with Oliver.

‘Morning, Danielle.’ I spin around, clutching my bowl tight. A blonde haired man, dressed in the same white gear I saw everyone else wearing yesterday, saunters into the kitchen, through the door leading into the hallway, carrying a mug in his hands. I’d put him in his early to mid-forties. His eyes are a deep, icy blue; there’s something about them which makes me shiver. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t get the chance to speak to you yesterday, I’m Abraham.’ He takes a step closer towards me.

I frown at him. ‘You all have very religious sounding names here.’

‘It’s something we choose when we join,’ he says.

‘But not Oliver?’ I ask.

Blonde strands of his hair hanging just above his eyes, flick to the left and to the right as he shakes his head. ‘No, Oliver kept his name for personal reasons, and for other reasons that will become clearer to you. Have you enjoyed spending time here with us?’

‘Erm, yeah, sort of. It’s a bit weird coming back here after the all this time, I don’t have many memories of my time here.’

‘That is such a shame,’ he says.

I place my bowl with the other stacked items. ‘Were you here at the time when I was living here with my brother?’

‘I joined shortly before your family left,’ he says, taking a step closer to me; I back up against the worktop, a couple of plates crash into each other as I disturb the pile. ‘You are so like your mother. It’s a shame I didn’t get to know you when you lived here before. I hope you don't make the same mistake your parent's did.' 

‘Abraham,’ Mary’s sharp voice reaches my ears, just as I'm about to say something. She’s standing behind him in the hallway door, the features on her face pinched tight. ‘I’m sure Danielle would like to get ready.’

Abraham smiles at Mary before he turns to me again. ‘Of course, I hope to see you again very soon, Danielle.’

He nods towards Mary, heads out of the kitchen, and into the garden, keeping his hands clasped behind his back as he makes his way out. I rub my brow. Mary keeps her eyes fixed on me for a few moments, before she too leaves the kitchen, following after Abraham.

God, that was creepy. I dart into the hallway and hurry up the stairs to my room. What mistake did Abraham seem to think my parent’s made?