Tell the Truth, Shame the Devil (47 page)

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Authors: Melina Marchetta

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BOOK: Tell the Truth, Shame the Devil

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Bish tooted at the Salvation Army van being driven by Charlie. Grazier, of the one facial expression, was riding shotgun. The Crombie smart car was close behind.

‘I’m going to tell you something else now, and you can’t get hurt,’ Bee said.

‘I can’t promise that.’ And he actually couldn’t.

‘Okay, then I’ll say it anyway.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I’m going to unfriend you on Facebook.’

Bish was crushed. Tried hard not to show it.

‘I’ve encouraged all my friends to do the same,’ she said, digging the knife in deeper. ‘Don’t take offence, Dad. We can’t say stuff and muck around with you checking us out.’

‘That’s cold, Bee. Really cold.’

‘Violette’s started a Free Noor LeBrac page and she says if you want you can join that.’

Little crumbs.

‘And I need to tell you one more thing . . .’

‘There’s more? Couldn’t we just stop at you not wanting to be my friend?’

She studied him a moment. ‘You make Mum laugh,’ she said softly. ‘But David makes her happy.’

She had the iPad in her hand now. Soon it would be four hours of silence after a day of babble. He didn’t want the conversation to end there.

‘Can you promise
me
something now?’ he said.

‘As long as it’s not something
really
stupid.’

‘Why would you think that?’

‘Because you’ve got that look on your face. Stevie used to call it your he’s-going-to-say-something-stupid face. Remember?

‘Trust me, there’s nothing stupid about what I want you to promise.’

‘Okay, what is it?’

‘That you’ll never accept Charlie Crombie’s sperm to make my grandchild.’

She laughed. ‘You’re an idiot.’ She put her iPad in her bag and sat back and laughed some more.

By the time he’d driven all the way down to Ashford and then back to London, he was beat. He went to the supermarket to grab some dinner, tempted himself with a look at the off-licence, but picked up the
Evening Standard
instead. For once in his life he liked the front- page news. They were laughing. Violette and Bee and Eddie and Charlie and Fionn and Lola and Manoshi. the kids are all right, ran the headline. It had to count for something.

Inside his quiet flat he collected a week’s post, marvelled at the life force of this particular fish, checked his email, was the fourth to join the Free Noor LeBrac group, and sifted through his mail. Bills. Bills. Bills.

Handwritten envelope.

He stared at it, saw it had been opened and then sticky-taped shut, but he didn’t care. And he began to read.

Dear Bashir . . .

He’d have to get himself a stationery set.

Sometimes Violette thinks the loneliness and yearning for opposite sides of the world will break her. She misses Eddie most of all. She was never so sure of who she was as when they were together those three weeks last year. And as long as she lives, Violette will not forget the looks on Henna Nasrene’s and Papi Christophe’s faces when they saw their grandson for the first time.

Still, most days she worries about her brother. Some kids at his school are okay about who he is but others write crap on his locker and she knows it gets to him. It doesn’t stop him visiting Jimmy in Calais, and at least once a month his dad takes him to Holloway. John says it’s what Anna would have wanted, but whatever his reason, Violette knows it means a lot to her mum, who tells her, ‘Some days are worse than others, my love, some days better than most.’

There’s talk that Layla will lodge the appeal soon, and fingers crossed there’ll be a trial. Bee’s mum is their QC and she’s pretty thorough. Doesn’t cut corners. Doesn’t allow mistakes. Her approach is ‘Every i dotted and every t crossed so we can blow it out of the water in the first couple of days.’ A friend of Bee’s dad turned down the prospect of being a federal court judge so he can represent Jimmy and Uncle Joseph. Rachel and Layla say the entire family must be in that courtroom. Team Noor has to be strong and visible and they need to get the media on side.

But Violette knows they’ll need more than the media.
The Guardian
ran a piece over Christmas asking the families of the Brackenham victims how they’d feel about Noor LeBrac getting an appeal hearing. Most had no comment. Two families believe she’s innocent. Three say they hope she burns in hell. One says that regardless of whether she’s innocent or guilty, someone in the family has to pay.

It depresses Violette, that sort of thinking. The Sarraf family have paid enough. Too much. Sometimes she forgets what time it is in London and rings Bee’s dad when he’s asleep. He isn’t a cop anymore but he’s definitely working for the spooks, because he keeps saying he can’t talk about his job. Violette knows he visits her mum most weeks, and it’s good to talk to someone who sees her regularly. Some days he’ll say, ‘Tell me a story, Violette. I need a happy one today,’ but other times he makes her laugh. Bee says it’s the idiot savant in him, but whatever it is, Violette always feels better after speaking to ex-Chief Inspector Bish Ortley.

She can’t say the same about Manoshi and Lola. Pains in the arse of biblical proportions. They send the most ridiculous links and YouTube crap. A couple of months ago they mailed Violette a leather bracelet with instructions to add a bead every time something good happens, and when the bracelet is complete, they wrote, God would grant her a small wish. Violette tells them straight: Fuck off youse two and don’t send anymore of this crap.

Anyway, she doesn’t know whether she believes in God or not –he’s been a bit of a no-show in her family history.

Eddie tells her to try it, though, to see if the wish thing is true. So just to make him happy she gives it a go. The first bead is for when Layla’s Facebook profile says she’s in a relationship right after a weekend in France.

The second is when Bee wins the two hundred metres in the junior nationals.

The third is when Fionn gets his artificial leg fitted.

And there’s another when Manoshi’s and Lola’s mums get to meet Wills and Kate because of the foundation they’ve started to build a wing at the Boulogne-sur-Mer hospital for amputee kids from war-torn countries. Another bead because they name it after Lucia, Michael and Astrid.

She adds another two when Noor’s PhD is finally released, a result of Bee’s grandmother writing a letter a day to the powers that be.

But then, one bead short of making a bracelet, nothing good happens for a while.

Until a day in July, when Henna Nasrene gets a package in the mail from the UK. It’s addressed to the LeBracs, Coleambally, New South Wales, Australia. There’s no return address. And Violette knows. She knows what’s inside without opening it. When her grandfather holds the watch in his hands he cries, and they all trace their fingers on the writing at the back. Henna Nasrene reads it aloud in Arabic.
Beloved son. I love you. I love you. I love you.
Violette says it will be a good present for Eddie when he comes for Christmas again with his dad, but Henna Nasrene takes the watch and places it on Violette’s wrist. She says her father would have wanted her to have it, and that Eddie will agree.

Later that night, Violette chats with Bee and then Gigi and then checks Charlie’s Facebook page. He’s not much of a social networker except when @princec2 is rubbishing something on Twitter. Today he has a new update. He’s finished his A levels. Without cheating. But it’s Charlie’s new profile photo that Violette can’t help staring at. A brand-new travelling backpack with the dumbest-looking kangaroo sticker on it. The kangaroo’s saying ‘G’day.’

And Violette laughs so much she cries and thinks that maybe there is a God.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Special thanks to my agent, Jill Grinberg, who reads my first drafts and always responds with a profound encouragement that makes me believe in the possibilities. And to everyone else at Jill Grinberg Literary Management: Cheryl Pientka, Katelyn Detweiler, Kirsten Wolf, Denise St. Pierre and Sophia Seidner.

Thank you to my Australian publisher, Ben Ball; editor Meredith Rose, and everyone at Penguin Random House Australia, present and past, who have played such an important part in my writing career.

And thanks to my US editor Asya Muchnick, and the rest of the Little Brown Mullholland team.

Thanks and appreciation to travel research companions, or readers of early drafts, or helpers with Arabic translations, French translations and UK terminology: Barbara Barclay, Marisa Donovan, Maria Boyd, Elizabeth Butterfield, Anthony Catanzariti, Paulette Catanzariti, Patrick Devery, Julia Garcia-Dubray, Laura Harris, Anthony Horowitz, Cécile Lederman, Daniela Marchetta, Adelina Marchetta, Jennifer Naughton, Norma Sarraf, Hannah Sheppard, Louise Smith, Brenda Souter, Joanna Werner, Jo Williams, Markus Zusak.

Big hugs and love to Bianca, Luca, Daniel and Harrison for the delight they bring into our lives.

And to my dog Jasper, a true companion during the writing of eight novels. Rest in peace, beautiful boy.

ALSO BY MELINA MARCHETTA

Looking for Alibrandi

Saving Francesca

On the Jellicoe Road

Finnikin of the Rock

The Piper’s Son

Froi of the Exiles

The Gorgon in the Gully

Quintana of Charyn

VIKING

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First published by Penguin Random House Australia Pty Ltd, 2016

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

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ISBN: 978-1-76014-185-1