His Silence - Chapter 54

I’m not wearing Mum’s dress out to dinner. I choose something I brought with me, something casual, and light, but still nice. The place Oliver's taking me can’t be fancy; he would’ve told me to dress up if it was. I open my phone. I messaged Max the details I’ve discovered so far, but he hasn’t got back to me. It isn’t a lot for him to go on, but then he didn’t have a lot to go on when he was investigating the murder of my parents when he did the podcast. Perhaps there’s a chance Oliver could slip more information tonight.

I open my bedroom door. It’s just coming up to half past five; Oliver should be waiting for me up at the house. I head out of the annexe, running my hand through my hair; the sun’s casting an orange, reddish glow across the sky as it begins to set. There’s no one in the garden.

The kitchen door's open ahead of me. Abigail’s at the sink washing a pot up, the scrape of the scourer against the iron fills up the room. She looks over her shoulder.

‘Oh, Grace, don’t you look nice. Oliver’s in the living room with Jeremiah, I think he’s giving both of you a lift,’ she says.

She's going to tell everyone what I'm wearing, then they're all going to be discussing what Oliver and I are doing this evening. ‘Thanks,’ I say, biting my lip.

I leave the kitchen before she has the chance to speak to me again and slip into the living room. Oliver’s standing with Jeremiah at the far end of the room. At least he’s in casual dress as well. Callum isn’t in the room.

‘Ah, Grace, you’re ready. We can leave now if you like, I don’t want us to be out too late,’ Oliver says, checking the time on his watch.

‘Yeah, fine,’ I say, rubbing the back of my neck.

I want to speak to Callum before we go, but I don’t think I’m going to be allowed to have that opportunity.

Oliver walks towards me and I stride out of the room, after him and Jeremiah. Upstairs people are moving about getting ready for dinner. Will Callum be alright without me being here tonight? I resist the urge to call out for him. I have no idea how Oliver will react if I do. I think of Noah’s warning to me earlier. I shiver.

In twenty minutes we’re heading into town. It’s surreal to see shops and people going about their normal lives; I’ve only been staying here for a couple of days and already the outside world seems alien to me. I watch people laughing, and hugging each other, kids on bikes.

Jeremiah pulls his car up on the side of the road.

‘I suspect we’ll be finished by nine at the latest,’ Oliver says to Jeremiah as we climb out of the car.

A couple of people glance at us; they mutter something under their breath. I think back to what Callum said about people jeering at them in the street when they went shopping. Oliver could be well known around here.

‘No problem, call me when you’re ready,’ Jeremiah says, starting up the car again.

‘This way, Grace,’ Oliver says, smiling.

We head down a side alley, Oliver clutches tight onto my arm as we emerge onto a high street. I want to pull away but decide not to. It won’t be long and we’ll be sitting at the table, having something to eat. People passing us must think we’re father and daughter. There’s a big M&S opposite me, a couple of doors down there’s a Waterstones; I used to spend all my time in bookshops when I was a kid.

‘How often do you come to this place then?’ I ask.

‘Oh, as often as I can, like I said, their steak is to die for. But if you’re not a red meat lover I would recommend any of their pasta dishes.’

I want to ask him if he ever takes Jeremiah or Mary with him, but keep the thought to myself.

Sea air whips through my hair as we near the promenade. There’s a small looking restaurant with a red, white and green canopy covering tables outside a few feet away. A young couple are sitting outside leaning into each other, there's a bottle of red wine on their table.

We step through into a small reception area, the scent of basil and garlic immediately hits me in the face; I eye the large pizza being demolished by the young boy on a table to my right.

‘Ah, Oliver.’ A young woman with dark hair and olive skin greets us. She speaks with an English accent. ‘Lovely to see you again and who is this who you’ve brought?’

‘This is, Grace,’ he says, smiling.

‘Lovely to meet you, Grace, if you’d like to follow me I’ll show you to your table.’

The walls are a cream coloured stone, and there are pictures hanging from the walls of Venice, The Colosseum and Pompeii. The woman shows us to a table close to the bar at the back the restaurant.

I pick up the menu; the pages sticky in my hands.

‘Are you having wine, Grace?’ he asks.

‘Um, yes . . . if you’re having a glass,’ I say, not looking up from the menu.

‘I’ll order us a bottle of merlot, do you like red?’

‘Yes, that’s fine.’

He calls the waitress over and places an order.

‘So, I hope you’re settling in OK?’ Oliver says, offering me a breadstick, which I take and place on the plate to my right. ‘I understand the first few days can be a little bit difficult, but you seem to have made friends with Eve, which is good.’

‘Um, yes, she seems nice,’ I say, my stomach churning. ‘Callum seems quite keen on her.’

‘Yes, that’s so lovely, I’ve been giving Eve some private coaching lessons, like what we had a couple of days ago; she’s been desperate to find someone, and it’s amazing to see how much the private coaching has helped her.’

The waitress returns with a bottle of wine and pours it for Oliver to taste, before pouring me a glass.

‘Would you like to order?’ she asks. ‘I think I know what sir is having?’ she says the last part of her sentence with a mischievous grin.

‘Of course; bruschetta to start for me please, and then the T-Bone steak, Grace, what would you like?’

The waitress and Oliver both look at me. I hadn’t even thought of getting a starter. ‘Um, I’ll have the garlic bread and the carbonara please.’ There’s no way I can eat a steak.  

The woman smiles. ‘Perfect,’ she says and takes the menus away, drifting back towards the kitchen.

‘Abigail had a chat with me about them yesterday,’ I say, taking a sip of my wine. I feel it rush down my throat, it’s surprisingly good. ‘About Callum and Eve.’

‘Oh yes, she mentioned to me she was going to talk to you, she’s really keen for the two of them to get together,’ Oliver says. ‘But tonight, I want to talk about us,’ he says.

He reaches out and squeezes my hand, which sends electric shock waves pulsing through me.