Page 30 of Outlier

“Uh, yeah. Of course.” He sighed. “Look, I know it’s not exactly what you’re used to, but?—”

“No, it’s very,verydifferent to what I’m used to,” I said the absolute truth.

I’d never even seen a house like this before.

“We can’t all live in fancy mansions, you know,” Mike said through gritted teeth. He sounded annoyed, and I didn’t understand why. “Are you getting out or what?”

Maybe he was annoyed that I was sitting there staring at his beautiful house and not getting out of the car, and therefore, wasting his time.

I cleared my throat, undid the seatbelt and then turned to jump down.

“I’m going to put my hand on your elbow,” Mike said in a gruff voice.

“What?”

“To help you down. My Land Rover’s high up, and you’re wearing those crazy heels. You’ll need a hand down, and you said you need a warning before physical contact, so…”

“Oh, right, thank you.”

He nodded, and his large hand encircled my elbow, supporting me as I climbed out of the car.

I still couldn’t take my eyes off the house. Small details were jumping out at me all the time: the flowers planted around the outside of the deck, the wooden door which formed an archway shape and had a small window in the upper part, the climbing rose up the side of the far wall.

“Do you own this?” I asked in a bewildered voice.

There was a small silence. I glanced at Mike, who was frowning down at me; he still hadn’t taken his hand off my elbow, and I was finding I quite liked it there.

“Yes,” he told me, then after another long pause, “I built it.”

“You built it?” My eyebrows went up.

“Come on, it’s cold.” His voice was gruff now. “Come inside.”

I nodded and felt oddly sad when he let go of my elbow to lead the way up the wooden steps onto the deck and into his house.

“You leave it unlocked?” I asked as he pushed open the door.

“Got nothing worth stealing, and we’re not exactly in a crime hot spot.”

He flicked a switch, and a soft glow filled the house.

I didn’t agree that he had nothing worth stealing. Every piece of furniture was hand-crafted from beautiful wood. His kitchen had a massive, thick piece of wood as the countertop, which again, had that wavy edge where the grain had dictated the shape. There was a table and chairs matching the countertop, and across the room, an armchair and a small sofa with wooden frames, containing what looked like comfy, squishy sofa cushions with colourful throws over the top.

The entire room was double height. I looked up to see a central skylight right at the top of the house. There was a wooden spiral staircase leading to a mezzanine level, which was clearly the bedroom area, with one double bed up there.

When Mike broke the silence, his voice sounded strained. “Look, I know it’s not up to your standards but?—”

“Why are you cross with me?” I asked.

Abdul said it was better if I asked people directly what was going on if I didn’t understand an interaction. He said that was preferable to allowing miscommunication to continue. That if Isensed something was wrong then I should just directly call it out.

Relying on social cues simply wasn’t an option for me, especially without Lottie here.

“I’m not cross with you, Vicky.”

“Your tone of voice is angry. I can pick up on anger quite well.”

Anger and frustration directed at me had featured heavily in my childhood, and I had trained myself to spot the signs early on. Mike took a deep breath in and let it out slowly.