And Bruno, according to the eyewitnesses, moments after he had ducked out of school in the middle of the morning during a break and stepped out into the road, straight into the path of a BMW, had been looking down at his phone.
Grace had asked Aiden Gilbert, of the Digital Forensics team, if he could find out from Bruno’s phone what had so absorbed his concentration that he’d failed to notice an oncoming vehicle. After three weeks, Gilbert had rung him last night, saying that in the moments before he’d been struck by the BMW i8, Bruno had been on the internet and he’d send through the details as soon as he could.
And Grace was now remembering the last conversation he’d had with Bruno, on the fatal morning he’d dropped him at the school gates. A bizarre one, as so many had been with him: Education’s a joke, don’t you think? I can learn more from Google than any teacher can tell me.
It had taken Grace a moment to process this. He’d not particularly enjoyed his own school days, and his performance in class had been disappointing to his parents, only just scraping through essential exams at pretty much the lowest pass grade.
Go for it, speak your mind. Tell them what you think they should be teaching you! he’d replied.
Bruno had hesitated. Really? You think so?
Sure. Be brave. Remember, fear kills more dreams than failure ever can.
Bruno looked puzzled. Dreams? Is there any point in dreaming anything? Look at my mother. My mother had so many dreams, but they were all shattered and there was no way to put the pieces back together. Life sucks. School sucks.
And that was it. He’d jumped out of the car and headed to school. Two hours later, he was on life support.
Grace sat back down on the pew. Behind him, the ever-increasing buzz of conversation convinced him that the large old building must now be pretty full, but he didn’t have the courage to turn round and face everyone. Not yet.
Belinda Carlisle’s ‘Heaven is a Place on Earth’ suddenly boomed through the speakers. He was aware from the sounds behind him that people were standing. He and Cleo had had long discussions about music for the service, consulting with Erik also on what music Bruno had liked, and Erik had told them this had been Bruno’s favourite. A curious choice for someone of his age, but Bruno had long ceased to surprise him. He stood, along with Cleo and the Lipperts.
In slow, steady contrast to the music, they turned and saw Reverend Smale enter through the doorway of the church, leading the procession while reading out Bible verses of hope and comfort in a loud voice. The top-hatted pall-bearers followed with the far-too-small coffin, the red and white flowers.
They rested it on the catafalque and, as the music faded, solemnly walked back down the aisle, Glenn fleetingly locking eyes with him and giving him a chin-up grimace.
Then Reverend Smale, robed in a black cassock and white surplice, moved to the pulpit and addressed the congregation. ‘On this sad day may I welcome you all to All Saints Church, and seeing so many of you gathered here is truly a great tribute of your love and respect for Bruno. Roy and Cleo have asked me to make our time together today more of a thanksgiving celebration of Bruno’s short life rather than a solemn funeral service of his sudden and tragic departure and I’ll do my best to do this but I’m going to need your help.’ He smiled broadly. ‘We all need to try and relax because that will help those contributing, who I am sure at this very moment are feeling extremely tense and emotional. I believe that Belinda Carlisle’s lively entrance song we’ve just heard was a good choice. It’s true that in heaven love comes first. But for now, our thoughts must turn from the insecure world that we live in to our perfect everlasting home that awaits us in heaven. Although this is an extremely sad occasion, I repeat that this is first and foremost a time of thanksgiving as we thank God for Bruno and for the happiness that he brought to many. We pray that Bruno may rest in peace and rise in glory in that place where he will never again know pain, sorrow or suffering.’
He paused. ‘Our thoughts and prayers must also be with the bereaved close family that remain on earth. May the peace of God which passes all understanding be with Bruno’s family and friends as they try and deal with their sad loss. Let us read together King David’s much loved psalm of comfort, Psalm Twenty-Three. You will find it on page three.’
Barely listening to the words of the psalm, The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want, Grace used the time to go over his eulogy once more in his head. There was a poem by his god-daughter, and a hymn, ‘Abide With Me’, before he had to walk to the pulpit, but he was already feeling sick to his stomach with fear. How the hell was he going to get through it?
31
Monday, 30 September
As the organ struck up the final verse of the hymn, Roy’s cue, he felt a tight squeeze from Cleo’s hand, then stood and walked the few yards over to the pulpit and up its steps.
Years ago, he’d been advised by a mentor that when giving a speech you should look for a couple of friendly faces in the audience and focus on them.
But as he laid his notes on the lectern, he was so close to tears he wasn’t sure he dared look up at the congregation. Finally, as the music faded, he risked it and looked up. The church was rammed and there were people standing at the back. And there was total silence. As his eyes roved quickly, trying and failing to spot Glenn again, he picked out the Chief Constable, Lesley Manning, as well as his new acting ACC Hannah Robinson; Bruno’s headmaster; a retired solicitor, Martin Allen, who’d given Grace and Cleo some sound advice on the legalities around bringing Bruno to England. Then, suddenly, he was thrown.
There, sitting close to the rear of the church, was the unmistakable figure of Cassian Pewe.
Grace did a double take. Was he imagining it?
Pewe gave him a knowing smile. Grace immediately and angrily looked away.
What the hell was that bastard doing here?
Completely off his stride, glancing around the packed aisles, he finally found Glenn, sitting with Siobhan and Norman, immediately behind Cleo’s family.
The utter silence held. He felt a twitching of the muscle beneath his right eye. An air of expectancy along with the expressions of sympathy on so many faces. Everyone waiting for him, and he had all the time in the world. All the time to totally screw this up. He took a deep breath, then another and looked down at his notes. Focus, he thought. Just focus. Take your time. He looked back up at where Glenn was but for a moment couldn’t locate him. Then he saw him, saw his concerned gaze. Saw his kind eyes and his you can do it smile. And he began, aware his voice sounded nervous and faltering.
‘The American poet Maya Angelou said: “I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel”.’ He paused. ‘Bruno was a truly extraordinary young man, who constantly challenged our preconceptions about so many aspects of our lives and of the human condition. A small boy who was wiser, in some ways, than many people very much older. Had he lived, I’ve no idea how much he might have achieved, but I have a feeling he might have been a truly great human being. Or at the very least, as he once told his headmaster, a benign dictator!’
He smiled and it prompted laughter.