Inside his quiet flat he collected a week’s post; marveled 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.
Epilogue
Sometimes Violette thinks the loneliness and yearning for the opposite side 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 Papy 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 from 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 allow mistakes. Doesn’t cut corners. 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 have 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 any more 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 it’s true. So Violette finds herself adding the beads.
The first is when she reads on Layla’s Facebook profile that she’s in a relationship after a weekend in France.
The second is when Bee wins the junior nationals in the two hundred meters.
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 it’s named 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, NSW, 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 traveling 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.
Acknowledgments
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: Cheryl Pientka, Katelyn Detweiler, Kirsten Wolf, Denise St. Pierre, and Sophia Seidner.
And to my editor, Asya Muchnick, especially for the kinship I sensed on the pages of the edit. Thank you also to the rest of the Little, Brown / Mulholland Books team.
Thanks to Ben Ball, Meredith Rose, and everyone at Penguin Random House Australia, present and past, who have played such an important part in my writing career.
Much 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, and 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.
About the Author
Melina Marchetta lives in Sydney, Australia. She is the author of eight novels, which have been published in twenty countries. She has also written for film and television.
Also by Melina Marchetta
Looking for Alibrandi
Saving Francesca
Jellicoe Road
Finnikin of the Rock
The Piper’s Son
Froi of the Exiles
Quintana of Charyn
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The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Copyright © 2016 by Melina Marchetta
Cover design by Henry Sene Yee
Cover photographs: legs © LisaInGlasses/Getty Images, tube station © Richard Lehmann/Millennium Images, UK
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ISBN 978-0-316-34928-4
E3-2016091516-DA-PC
Melina Marchetta, Tell the Truth, Shame the Devil
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