His Silence - Chapter 83

I close Mum’s diary, my body shaking. Oliver was the one who suggested they should live together. The farmhouse he spoke about, did he mean this place? The diary entries are getting fewer and fewer. This was still seven years before I was born. It’s hard to imagine Mum and Dad living this life before I was around. There’s a knock at the door which makes me jump. I clutch the diary.

‘Grace, are you in there?’ It’s Oliver. Damn.

I shove Mum’s diary in the drawer, my phone into my pocket and wrench the door open, heart thudding. Oliver’s staring at me, his face ashen 

‘What’s wrong?’ I say. Something’s happened. I can see it in his eyes.

‘I’m sorry, it’s . . . it’s Callum,’ he says, fear etched into his voice.

My stomach drops, I take a step back. No, I’ve misheard him. ‘What do you mean?’

Oliver wipes his mouth. ‘There’s been an incident up at the house, he’s been injured.’

Callum’s injured. Blood pumps harder around my body. ‘But . . . but, he was with Mary, wasn’t he, they were having another session?’ My feet won’t move, they remain frozen solid to the floor. This can’t be happening.

Oliver shakes his head. ‘I know, but, I’m afraid he, look I need to take you to him, now,’ he says, his voice coming out fast.

I dart out of the door after him, into the hallway, and out into the garden, my breath coming out fast and hard. Callum’s got to be alright, he can’t be hurt. An image of Noah’s body lying on the ground outside the house flickers through my mind. No don’t think like that. He’s going to be fine. I eye the area outside the house where Noah’s body was lying only last week and towards the vegetable patch where I always saw Abraham. I look away.

Cold air snakes into my lungs as we pelt back to the house, my feet slam into the gravel pathway kicking up dust. There’s still a slither of light outside. Most people will be in their rooms by now, their doors already locked for tonight. What time did Callum finish with Mary? Oliver pulls open the kitchen door.

‘Where is he?’ I ask, my voice coming out in a strangled cry.

‘This way,’ he says, heading towards the utility room. Why are we going down here?

Ahead of the corridor there’s a door. I stop. What the fuck? I didn’t see it the last time I was in here with Eve; it must’ve been covered up.

‘Oliver, what . . .’

‘This way,’ he says, not looking back over his shoulder.

I continue to follow, diving into the room beyond the door, my heart bouncing in my chest. I’m in a wide room, with concrete floor and concrete walls. It’s some sort of basement. There’s a body lying on the floor ahead of me.

‘Callum, Callum,’ I yell, flinging myself to the ground. He’s still breathing thank God. ‘What’s wrong with him? Shit, we need to call an ambulance,’ I shout.

Oliver’s staring at us.

‘He’ll be fine,’ Oliver says, like this is no big deal. ‘As you will be.’

Oliver marches back to the open door leading out into the utility room.

‘Oliver, no,’ I say, lurching forward.

I’m too late. Oliver pulls the door shut and a key turns in the lock. I bang my fists on the door so hard my knuckles turn red. ‘Oliver please why are you doing this?’ There’s no reply. I listen to the sound of his shoes slapping on the stone tiles outside as he makes his way into the kitchen. Will everyone upstairs in their rooms be able to hear my shouting? ‘Oliver, please come back, please.’ He doesn’t return. I dart back over to Callum. He’s got to wake up. He’s got to wake up. They must’ve given some sort of sedative. I can’t see that he’s been injured anywhere. ‘Callum, Callum, please, wake up.’ I say, tears streaming down my face. This can’t be happening. I slump to the floor and place my head in my hands.