“So it gets easier?” he asked.
“Not at all, darling. Stevie’s death made me almost give in about a thousand times a day. And if it wasn’t for visiting those kids in Buckland, I would have had one for sure these past weeks.”
“Demons,” she had called them.
“No more secrets, Mum,” he said. “They make us lonely.”
“Do you want to hear some good news coming out of this whole bombing mess?” she asked.
“Always.”
“My nephew found me. My half sister’s son. Out of respect for my father’s second wife, they waited until she died to search for me. It was what our father wanted—that one day, all his children would be reunited. They got as far as knowing that my surname was Ortley and that my brother had died, then they hit a roadblock. Until my nephew saw us on Al Jazeera—you and I talking outside Buckland Hospital. The French ran the story and identified you as Bashir Ortley.”
Bish turned at the sound of a car and watched as a sedan pulled up and an older man stepped out. John Conlon.
“I’ll take you there, Mum. To Alexandria. Bee can come too. Right now I’ve got to go, but I’ll ring you later.”
Grazier was there to greet Conlon and they embraced. Eddie and Violette walked out of the visitors’ center and stood close together. They looked so vulnerable. Bish went over to join them and the atmosphere was strained.
“Can you introduce me, Eddie?” Bish asked.
The kid did a mumbled pointing and naming. “Have you been feeding my fish?” he asked his father.
Conlon nodded. He seemed not to know what to say. Wasn’t that Noor’s fear? That all the talking would have stopped now that Anna was dead?
“Am I going to live with them?” Eddie asked his father. “With Violette?”
Conlon flinched as if someone had struck him. “Don’t be silly, Eddie. You belong with me.”
Eddie was gripping his sister’s hand. “I belong with my dad, Violette.”
And she was trying not to cry and nodding all the same. “Yeah, that’s what my mum said.”
“We saw the graffiti,” Eddie said to his father. “On YouTube.”
“It’s all gone now. Didn’t have to lift a finger myself. People are mostly decent, Eddie. I’ve dug the graves of their loved ones. They’ll pay me back with decency.”
John Conlon looked at Violette for the first time. “We’ll take you home,” he told her.
Bish read the confusion on her face.
“Me and Eddie together,” Conlon said, turning back to his son. “It’s where our Jimmy always wanted to go, you know, Eddie. The other side of the world. I bought him an atlas and we picked a place together. And our Jimmy, he said, ‘I’ll get your passport stamped if it’s the last thing I do, Da.’”
This time Violette did cry. “It’ll mean everything to my grandparents to see Eddie. Everything.”
Bish felt as though he was in a fishbowl. Their little group in the car park, surrounded by a circle of police, surrounded by the press. All wanting a glimpse of these kids’ lives. Soon afterwards, Violette was saying good-bye to Charlie, just as the Crombies were parking a Smart car.
“If their snogging entails tongues and saliva, one of you is going over to stop them,” Grazier said, approaching Bish and Elliot. “I’m fucking traumatized by those Instagram accounts.”
But there was no snogging. Just the pair of them holding on to each other with all their might. Bish was a bit on the touched side.
“Oh God, she’s coming this way,” Grazier muttered as they watched Reverend and Arthur Crombie striding over to them.
“Righto,” she said. “Who’s in charge here?”
Bish and Elliot pointed to Grazier.
“We’re taking that boy to see his mother,” she said firmly, pointing to Fionn, who was being wheeled around by Eddie as if the chair were a shopping trolley. A subdued Charlie took over and wheeled Fionn towards them.
“That won’t be necessary, Reverend Crombie,” Grazier said politely. “I’ll take him myself.”
“I don’t believe you,” she said. “Come on, boys.”
“Reverend Crombie, I’ll be taking Fionn,” Grazier said.
“Well, you’re just going to have to arrest me, then,” she said. “Who has the authority to arrest people around here?” She looked at Bish.
“Unfortunately, I can’t, Reverend Crombie, because I’ve been suspended from the police force.”
“And they can’t because they’re spooks,” Charlie said, pointing to Grazier and Elliot.
“We work for the Home Office,” Grazier said.
“Yeah, so does MI5, and they can’t arrest people,” Charlie said.
“We’ve watched the show,” Mr. Crombie said politely.
“Then I’ll come along with you.” Grazier’s politeness was now forced. He handed Bish his car keys. “We’ll talk later.”
“What about my job?” Bish asked.