‘Remember what Watson has done to you,’ a faceless Echo began, swiftly followed by a chorus of approval from others. ‘Don’t lose sight of the fact that she deserves everything that’s coming to her.’ Bruno waited until the Echoes faded and he was ready to approach her.
‘Hi …’ he began, then promptly became tongue-tied. He ended the sentence with an awkward smile.
‘Hello there,’ Watson replied, rising to her feet. ‘I’m glad you could make it.’ This time, their mutual pecks on each other’s cheeks landed successfully.
‘I didn’t know what to bring, so I kind of brought everything,’ Bruno admitted, lifting the shopping bag to show her.
She pointed to the tartan picnic blanket behind her and bags from the same supermarket he had shopped at. ‘Great minds think alike.’
Bruno acknowledged the young girl sitting in a wheelchair whose smile was as broad and genuine as her mother’s. On her lap was an illustrated guide to river birds, and by her side, their dog Luna was lying on the grass until she spotted Oscar. As her lead strained, Bruno unhooked Oscar and the two dogs began eagerly sniffing around one another like old friends.
Bruno reached to shake Nora’s hand, but her flexibility was limited. So he lengthened his arm to fill the gap as they introduced themselves. It was difficult not to take in her appearance as he asked about her book. She reminded him of a delicate porcelain figurine, albeit one with a Mediterranean skin tone and olive-green eyes. She was the complete opposite of her mother. Nora’s torso favouredthe left side, her neck the right. Her limbs were awkward and short and had he not known she was eleven, he couldn’t have attached an age to her. Her electric wheelchair had all-terrain wheels and was operated by a remote control strapped to the palm of her hand.
‘It wouldn’t take much to push her into the river, would it?’ The Echo with a German accent was as sudden as he was sinister. An elderly man with sunken cheeks, a white beard and clad in an old-fashioned surgical apron and mask appeared behind Nora. Bruno recognised Claude Zimmerman as a pioneer in paediatrics who’d escaped Nazi Germany and relocated to England. It was only years later that British investigators discovered he had actually been an active Party member and had experimented upon Jewish children. However, his past was quietly overlooked in exchange for the positive discoveries as a result of his barbaric procedures. Bruno shuddered as Zimmerman placed his hands upon Nora’s wheelchair.
‘Just a little shove and she’ll be lying on the riverbed choking on the reeds.’
You’re not real, you’re not real, Bruno repeated to himself. But Zimmerman wasn’t inclined to leave. ‘You know what I’m saying is true,’ Zimmerman continued. ‘If you really want to punish the mother for her sins, then punish the child.’
‘Are you okay?’ asked Nora, turning to see what was capturing his attention. He returned to her and Zimmerman vanished.
‘Just a bit of hay fever, I thought I was going to sneeze,’ Bruno said. ‘Are you as hungry as I am?’
She nodded and they made their way back to the blanket where Bruno unpacked his contribution of fresh vegetables, packets of cold meats, salads, dips and rustic breads. As they ate and talked, he kept to the subjects of school, Nora’s recent residential adventure and life in the town. Brunohadn’t appreciated just how much he missed normal conversation and there were moments when he began to forget himself.
‘Can I take the dogs for a walk?’ Nora asked.
‘Is your GPS on?’ Watson replied and Nora pushed the soft skin on the underside of her wrist until a small, pale green light illuminated. ‘Okay, well, don’t go too close to the water. Your chair can do many things but floating isn’t one of them.’
Bruno watched as she set off with the two dogs on leads, then became alarmed when as she turned a corner, Zimmerman reappeared. From behind a tree, he waved at Bruno, and followed her.
You’re not real, you’re not real.
‘Have you made a decision on which school you’re sending Louie to yet?’ Watson asked.
She remembered his name. It had been an age since he’d heard anyone else use it. And he found himself wanting to talk about his son. He explained Louie’s limitations and his abilities, the objects that made him smile, how he communicated without words and what Louie had taught Bruno about himself. Twice he paused as his throat tightened.
He hated himself for it but he was drawn to Watson. Bruno even allowed himself a moment to consider what kind of stepmother she might make if their circumstances had been different.
‘I’d like to send him to the Oundle Academy but I think it might be out of our price range,’ he continued.
‘It is expensive,’ Watson nodded, and dipped a celery stick into a hummus pot. ‘I couldn’t have afforded it had …’ Her voice trailed off. She was self-editing. But Bruno already knew how the sentence should end. It reminded him that he wasn’t here to make life easier for her by changing the subject, so he waited for her to finish. ‘… had my husband Mark not died,’ she added.
‘I’m sorry. What happened to him?’ he asked.
‘It was the day that driverless cars were hacked. The vehicle Mark was a Passenger inside crashed into the side of a bridge. Only he wasn’t alone, he was with another woman.’
Bruno’s heart thrummed at her admission and images repeated of Zoe and Watson’s husband having sex in the car they later died inside. He thought he might relish Watson’s pain; instead, there was no satisfaction to be gained by opening the old wound. Still, he pressed on.
‘Did you know about them?’ he asked.
Watson shook her head. ‘No. We’d grown apart but then all couples go through highs and lows, don’t they? I assumed we’d get back on track eventually. I should have tried sooner.’
‘I assume that Nora doesn’t know the full story? I guess it’s not the kind of thing your daughter needs to hear.’
‘No, she doesn’t. And she’s not actually my biological daughter. She’s Mark’s daughter from his first marriage. Nora’s mum died soon after she was born, then Mark and I met when she was two. I never formally adopted her but after Mark’s death, there was no question that she wasn’t going to remain with me. I would do anything to protect her and safeguard her future.’
Bruno contained his surprise; it was why he hadn’t found a record of Watson having a daughter when he’d first investigated her.
