Max cleared his throat. “Will you, umm, tell me the story one day?”
Bo chewed on her lip. “It isn’t my story to tell. It’s Geoffrey’s. Remember I told you about the worst thing he ever did?”
“You mean, aside from cheating on his wife and abandoning both me and my mother?” Max returned sharply, before he took a deep breath. “Sorry. I’m trying not to take my anger at him out on you.”
It was the first apology Bo had ever had from Max, and she stared at him for a long moment.
“What?” he asked, but she shook her head.
“Nothing. It’s just, sometimes you remind me of him. Most of the time I can’t see any of Geoffrey in you . . . but sometimes, when you get that sad sort of anger in your eyes, I’m reminded of him.”
“I hope not. I never want to be like him,” Max replied simply, before he paused. “Was Madelief the worst thing Geoffrey ever did? Not the plant,” he added, nodding to the camellia underBo’s hands. “I mean the real-life woman. The one he searched for.”
Bo nodded slowly. “Yes. He always regretted what he did to her.”
“He didn’t murder her, or anything like that, did he?”
“No. Like I said, he looked for her afterwards. For years and years.”
Max nodded, seemingly lost in thought for a moment.
“Max?” Bo stared up at him. “Are you okay?”
He shrugged. “Yes. It’s hard for me though. You knew him so well, but me . . . well, to me he was almost a stranger. He was my father, and I hardly know anything about him. The real him, I mean. Not the politician anyone can read about on the internet.”
“I wish I could tell you,” Bo said honestly. “But Madelief and Geoffrey . . . it isn’t my story to tell, Max. It’s Geoffrey’s story, and her story too, I guess.”
“Geoffrey’s dead,” Max remarked, in a pragmatically blunt tone, “and Madelief may well be dead too by now.”
She nodded. “Maybe. But then, maybe some stories are meant to die with the people who made them.”
“And yet Geoffrey told you.” Max shoved his hands into his pockets, kicking at the grass at his feet. “So, maybe he didn’t want the story to die.”
Bo thought for a moment. “You know how we talked about Geoffrey leaving you the house as absolution?”
Max nodded.
“Well, I think he told me about Madelief as his last confession.”
At that, Max offered a thoughtful half-smile. “Back in Catholic schoolgirl mode again, are you?”
She laughed. “The nuns would be surprised to see it. I was never a great student.”
Max smiled again, wider this time, though he still kicked again at the grass, and Bo blinked up at him.
“Did you want something, Max?”
“What?”
“Did you want something?” she asked again. “You came out here to talk to me.”
“I came out here to be nosy.”
“Nosy people have better phones than a Nokia 3310,” Bo replied drily, before she stood, dusting off her legs. “You want something.”
Max nodded, before clearing his throat. “I have to go to Berlin,” he announced, and Bo felt her stomach clench a little.
“Oh. Umm, when?”
