Laurent chuckled, snapped his fingers, and the three men in orange jackets appeared with a stretcher.
“No problem, young man,” said Laurent as Court dropped from his elbows and passed out. He relived the conversation in a dream, and thought it later to be one of the oddest and most fanciful dreams he’d ever had.
EPILOGUE
There were only four days left until the Christmas break, and Mummy had told the girls they could wait until after the new year to return to school. Kate had taken Mummy up on the offer, but Claire declined. Routine is important for a child; she wanted to get back into the swing of things.
Maybe it would help her forget.
She would love to forget Daddy’s funeral, the château in France, the noise and the fear and the guns and the blood. She would love to forget leaving Mr. Jim behind. Grandpa Donald had promised her that Jim had gotten away, but she did not believe a thing Grandpa Donald told her anymore.
She knew that Jim, like Daddy, was dead.
She entered Hyde Park. She always cut through on her way to school, walked purposefully east on North Carriage Drive, turned down a footpath that led over to North Row, and then shortly to her school on North Audrey Street. Her mummy wanted to walk her to school, but Claire had said no. She wanted everything to be the same as when Daddy was around. She’d walk herself to school, walk herself home.
A man sat on a bench by the footpath. She paid him no attention until he called her name as she passed.
“Hello, Claire.”
She stopped in her tracks and turned to face Jim. Her knees weakened from shock, and she dropped her schoolbooks to the footpath.
“I didn’t mean to scare you. Your granddad told me you did not believe that I was okay. I just wanted to come and show you that I’m fine.”
She hugged him, her mind not quite accepting that he was there.
“You... you were awfully hurt. Are you feeling better?” she asked in a sob of joy.
“I’m all better.” He stood and smiled and took a few steps up the pavement and then back to her. “See, I don’t even need you to help me walk anymore.”
Claire laughed and hugged him again. Tears filled her eyes. “You must come to the house straightaway. Mummy would so love to see you. She doesn’t even remember you being there in France.”
Jim shook his head. “I’m sorry. I have to go. I only have a few minutes.”
She frowned. “Are you still working for my Grandpa?”
Jim looked off into the distance. “I am working for someone else right now. Maybe Don and I will patch things up someday.”
“Jim?” she sat down on the bench, and he followed her lead. “The people who killed my father. You killed them, right?”
“They won’t hurt anyone else, Claire. I promise.”
“That’s not what I asked. Did you kill them?”
“Many people died. Good and bad. But that is all over now. That’s all I can really tell you. I can’t help you make sense of it all. Maybe someone else can. I hope so. But not me. I’m sorry.”
Claire looked across the park. “I am glad Grandpa Donald wasn’t lying about you.”
“Me, too.”
It was quiet for a moment. Jim began to shuffle a little on the bench.
Claire said, “You have to go now, right?”
“I’m sorry. I have to catch a plane.”
“That’s okay. I have to go to school. Routine is important.”
“Yeah.” He paused. “I guess it is.”
