‘Destroying this family won’t give you that. Two people made a very stupid mistake, and you, Louie, Watson and Nora have all been made to pay the price. Zoe hurt you in ways she could never have anticipated. But what you’re doing is purposeful. You need to let go of that life and build a new one.’
‘How, when I can’t have the two people I want to do it with me?’
He returned to the home screen and scanned other folders, opening one titled ‘Legal’. It contained Watson’s historic correspondence with her lawyers. Their team of private investigators had discovered emails and textconversations between Zoe and Mark, messages that Bruno had never seen.
Now, as he read them, he saw no ‘I love you’s or promises to leave their respective partners. They had not bonded over a carnal desire for one another, but over their children’s disabilities. They discussed how inept they felt about their capacity to parent compared to their partners’ skills. Zoe admitted to feeling shut out of Louie and Bruno’s ‘boy’s club’ and Mark believed he was a spare part in his own home. This was certainly not a man being coerced into sex; this was proof of a relationship.
He looked at the date stamped on the folder – Watson had evidence of this while she was making her claim for sexual harassment damages. Yet still she proceeded with them knowing full well it was a lie. It had been accepted and she’d received a payout which led to Bruno’s financial ruin. However, now he’d got to know Watson, he could see she had done it with the best of intentions, to provide financial stability for her vulnerable daughter. Might he not have done the same for Louie if their roles had been reversed?
The destruction of Bruno’s family had been collateral damage that Watson had unwittingly caused. And now it was as if someone had turned off a smoke machine, enabling him to see clearly again. The contempt he also felt towards Zoe and Mark was dissipating and being replaced by pity. He was still alive, he was still a parent. They weren’t either.
And just like that, he made a decision. He shut down his and Watson’s bank account pages, cancelling the planned transfer. Then he wiped his eyes, unashamed that the Echoes were witnessing his tears.
He needed to leave. Watson would be back in ten minutes, according to the clock. He wouldn’t be here when she returned. But before he slipped away, he would make use of her Wi-Fi and access Louie through the care facility’ssecurity cameras. He watched his son being guided to his bedroom by a member of staff. And this time around, instead of his chest tightening each time another person interacted with Louie, he was grateful that his sacrifices meant Louie was getting the best help.
As Louie climbed into bed, the carer reached over and took Louie’s favourite toy from his arms, the green Tyrannosaurus rex his mother had bought him. And without warning, the carer hurled it across the room.That’s an odd game, Bruno thought.
A puzzled Bruno straightened and frowned as he watched Louie leave the bed to fetch it. However, the staff member pushed him back onto the mattress by his shoulder.
‘Get off him,’ Bruno growled as his son was separated from the one object that comforted him the most. Twice more, he reached for his toy and twice more, he was refused it. And when Louie’s face scrunched and his mouth opened to scream, the carer slapped the boy hard across the head three times before leaving the room.
Bruno remained motionless – was his damaged mind now completely augmenting reality? He looked to the Echoes; they were as gobsmacked as him. He tried to rewind the footage but the option wasn’t available.
‘No, Bruno,’ came the burned sailor’s voice. But Bruno wasn’t listening. ‘No,’ he repeated, more firmly. ‘Don’t do it, you have to move forward. You can’t go back. You have to protect us.’
‘You’re imagining it,’ said another voice, the boy with the missing jaw. ‘He’s perfectly safe.’
But the rage inside Bruno was rising again. He rose to his feet when a figure by the door caught his attention. From a distance, he assumed it to be another Echo, at least until she spoke.
‘Why are you looking through Mummy’s files?’ Nora asked, her brow furrowed.
Chapter 59
EMILIA
Emilia pinched her eyes with her thumb and her forefinger, then squeezed two drops from a bottle she’d purchased at a pharmacy to clear the blurriness. Frequent use of her tablet was taking its toll on her vision.
Her vehicle had pulled into the car park hours earlier than her appointed time. It hadn’t taken her long to reach the Luton roadside eatery, positioned adjacent to a busy dual carriageway. She parked a distance from the other vehicles, positioning herself next to a row of hedges and with a clear view of the building ahead. Through the cafe windows she counted twenty or so families and couples tucking into all-day breakfasts and early dinners.
Adrian’s invitation had come out of the blue. He had sent the location of the cafe to her satnav, advising her that by attending, ‘You will have a better understanding of who you are and why you must set your conscience to one side in your search for the truth.’
As she awaited their arrival, she continued busying herself by sifting through hundreds and hundreds of digital pages of notes, photographs and data about each of the Minders exhumed by Bianca and Adrian’s team. She’d naively assumed that once online data had been deleted,it would never be seen again. ‘Nothing disappears for ever,’ Bianca had said casually, as if she should already know this. ‘The word “erased” is extinct. Everything is “filed” for use at a later date.’
Such harvested data included the shops the three favoured, their holiday destination preferences, medical histories and their family backgrounds. Each piece of information assisted Emilia in building up a profile of the elusive three and where they might be hiding in the areas she had identified. She didn’t know who was where, and she had no plans as yet to tell Adrian or Bianca she knew they were in Aldeburgh, Manchester and Oundle.
She had skimmed their current social media profiles and if she hadn’t known better, she would have believed each one was somewhere different in the world, luxuriating on vast, sandy beaches, hiking across South American backpacking trails, fruit picking on Australian farms or chasing Pacific waves with a surfboard. Everything was backed up by deepfake video images.
Emilia left her vehicle when Adrian and Bianca pulled up alongside her. Bianca thrust a dark-blonde hairpiece and black-framed glasses into her chest. ‘Put these on,’ she ordered and Emilia reluctantly did as she was told. Moments later, Emilia barely noticed when the waitress asked her for her order. She was too busy staring at her daughters Cassy and Harper, accompanied by her husband Justin, who were approaching the cafe’s entrance. She was about to jump to her feet when she felt the firm grip of Adrian’s hand squeezing her wrist and pulling her back down again.
‘Face me and don’t take your eyes off mine until I tell you differently,’ he prompted. Emilia hesitated and his grasp became tighter. ‘Say or do anything that identifies you and I’ll execute all three of them right here.’ He movedhis jacket to one side so that she could see the gun in his holster.
Now from the corner of her eye, Emilia could just about see her family entering the cafe and choosing a table directly behind hers. Her pulse raced as she cocked her head and heard her excited girls choosing from the menu.
‘Waffles and syrup with strawberry milkshake,’ said one.
‘Me too, but I want a raspberry milkshake,’ added the other.
Emilia was scared that if she moved even a centimetre, she might lose track of their conversation. Instead, she remained perfectly still as she eavesdropped. Her children and husband chatted about school, homework and a cinema trip he’d promised them. They only quietened when their food arrived.
