Tell the Truth, Shame the Devil(11)

“Don’t make me have to slap you around, Manoshi,” Violette warned over her shoulder. But Eddie thought she tolerated Manoshi and Lola better than she did the kids her own age at the back of the bus.

The thing with Violette is that she doesn’t like dumb people, so when an idiot asked if she owned a kangaroo, she called him a dickhead of biblical proportions. And if anyone dared to say, “G’day, mate…” (Who the f*ck says “G’day, mate” but dumb tourists, Eddie?) When Charlie Crombie made fun of the way she spoke, because Violette’s words sing with a whole lot of esses, Violette smashed him one in the face and later told Eddie that it bores her “f*cking stupid” to be mocked about her lisp because lack of originality bores her “f*cking stupid.” Violette says “f*ck” a lot. But she also says “please” and “thank you” more than anyone he’s ever met in his life. His mother would have liked Violette. Eddie loves her already, which doesn’t mean she isn’t the scariest person he’s ever met, but it’s exciting scary. Like how on the road to Mont-Saint-Michel she nudged Eddie awake and asked if he wanted to see roadkill, and she took out her phone and showed him the photos. Most of them actually were of kangaroos, fur and guts stuck to the bitumen, as well as other sorts of furry animals.

“Wombat,” she told him when he asked, and Eddie was really keen to know why her phone was full of roadkill photos.

“Evidence that they lived, Eddie.”

Violette said later that she knows how to gut a pig. Humans would be easier.

“Would you ever kill a human, Violette?” he asked.

She smiled and it was all twisted. Not in a bad way—just lopsided. Eddie thinks she has one of the best smiles he’s ever seen.

“To protect my family,” she said, “I’d kill anyone.”





4



The removal of Violette from the cupboard contributed to an already strained silence in the recreation hall. Right now she was sitting alone on the other side of the hall, directly across from Bish and Bee. One of the parents informed him that Gorman had taken Eddie to be interviewed by embassy staff, which he knew couldn’t be true. Carmody had assured Bish that he would be their first point of call. If Gorman had made it his business to keep Violette a secret, chances were that he was right when he said the British Secret Intelligence Service was somewhere on the campground. Bish decided he would give Gorman another five minutes to return the boy before searching them out.

Saffron came back from visiting the Spanish camp and settled herself between Bish and Bee.

“They’re beyond distraught,” she said, her eyes moist.

Bee reached over to take her grandmother’s hand, perhaps not as switched off as Bish presumed. He filled his mother in on Violette.

“Just say she is responsible,” his mother said quietly.

“I’m not making assumptions based on who her mother and grandfather are.”

What worried Bish more was that other parents and students had started talking to the press. It was going to be the Brackenham hysteria all over again.

His phone rang. A blocked number.

“Ortley?”

“Can’t talk now, Elliot. We’ll speak later,” he said before hanging up.

“Elliot?” Saffron asked, overhearing. “George from school?”

“Yes, the same one you forced me to hang out with in first form.”

“If that’s the way you want to remember it, Bish.”

“‘Poor, poor George. Socially inept. He needs friends.’ Your words, not mine.”

“Yes, well, if you thought I was a useless mother, his parents were a thousand times worse,” Saffron said. “I don’t think the Elliots even knew when the school holidays were, or that they had a son to retrieve.”

Bish looked at her. Had he actually told her she was a useless mother when he was a teenager? She had a sad smile on her face. Yes, he must have. His relationship with Saffron was even more complicated than the one with Rachel. He had a mishmash of childhood memories when it came to his mother. A contradictory mix of her absence and her love. She had put him into boarding school when his father was posted overseas. He was ten, and until then his mother had been his whole world. Once he was at university, it was the memory of her absence that dominated, and he rarely came home. When he married, things changed. Rachel loved his parents and, despite her workload, put in all the effort when it came to phone calls and catch-ups. But in the two years since his divorce, Bish hadn’t had Rachel as a buffer.

“Elliot’s in charge of making sure British Rail runs on time,” Bish said. “Tells me every year that if I want to move on to something different he can fix it for me.”

“Darling, you’ve been late all your life. What a catastrophe if the whole grid was in your hands.”

“How did you come to bump into him last week?” Bish asked.

She looked confused. “I haven’t seen George for ten years. Since your father’s funeral.”

Bish stared at her. Elliot had claimed to know about Bee’s trip from Saffron. Before he could question her further, two men walked into the hall. Definitely Brits, and Bish would have bet his life they were MI6. Their eyes scanned the room until they found who they were looking for.

Violette. No surprises there.