His words were like solvent on cheap varnish, stripping away my comforting glaze of unreality.
“—god. Lore. When I heard, I came as fast as I could. We’ve just land—”
The world was painfully bright and real. I held up my hand, making him stop. “Who told you? Was it Meisener?”
Oster dropped his hands. “Who?”
“Meisener. Or that’s what he calls himself. He works here.”
“Wait a minute,” the superintendent said, coming out from behind the desk. “One of our workers knew you were here?”
“Oh, he’s not yours.”
Rawlin frowned at that, then ignored it. “But if he knew you were here, why didn’t he claim the reward?”
“It wasn’t Meisener?” I asked Oster. But of course it wasn’t. And then all my adrenaline had boiled away and I felt old and sad and tired. They were all staring at me. I sighed. “Let’s start again.” I nodded to Rawlins. “Superintendent,” I said, then held out my hand to the woman. “I’m Lore van de Oest.”
She responded automatically, as people do. “Claire Singh. Director of City Sewage.”
I smiled the polite smile I had not had to use for a long time. “My father and I haven’t seen each other in a while. We would like some privacy.” It took her a moment to understand; then she flushed. Perhaps it was the smile, perhaps she remembered that Oster could buy her and her city from his daily operating budget. “Rawlin,” she snapped. “We’ll leave father and daughter to themselves for a few minutes.”
I watched them leave, refusing to meet my father’s eyes until the door was closing behind them. I tried to imagine what Magyar would make of their exit. I felt better knowing she was there.
Then there was no way to put it off any longer. I turned to my father.
He held out his arms again, but more cautiously this time, and that caution, almost timorousness, undid me. He was my father.
“Oh, Papa. . .”I threw myself into his arms. But I wasn’t six anymore, and he couldn’t keep out the world. And he seemed smaller than he had been. We moved apart a little to look at each other, hands still wrapped around biceps and triceps.
“Lore. . .” Long and drawn out, as though it was new in his mouth. “Lore, I thought you were dead.”
“I was, in a way.”
He reached up, seemed about to ruffle my hair, then touched the ends gently. “Brown suits you.”
We held each other at arm’s length in silence, measuring. Still daughter and father, but changed. “Come for a walk with me. By the canal.”
“In the city?”
His surprise and distaste amused me. “I’ve lived here three years. I’m one of the people I used to be scared of. We’ll walk by the canal and no one will bother us. Assuming the media doesn’t have this already.”
“It’s tight as a drum. That won’t last past tomorrow morning, of course.”
“Unless your informer takes it to the net for extra money.”
“No. That was one of the conditions of receiving the reward.”
It made sense. “Will you come for that walk? You can have a bodyguard follow us, if you like.”
I opened the door. Magyar was there, trying to look bored, succeeding only in looking fierce and alien in her green skinny with its red and black strapping. I stood aside, gestured from one to the other. “Magyar, this is my father, Oster. Dad, this is Cherry Magyar.” I put my arm around her waist briefly, so he would understand, and said to her, “My father and I are going for a walk. I’ll be back. After the shift, outside.”I hadn’t meant it to be a question, but of course it was. My father was here in the flesh. Everything was real. This was her chance to back away from Lore van de Oest. All she said was, “Don’t be late,” and gave my father a piercing look.
It was wet and cold and windy. The towpath was surprisingly light: the water reflected the city’s glow. We walked in silence for a while.
“Did you fly straight from Ratnapida?”
“Yes. Private plane from Auckland to Bangkok, then on to Rotterdam. Then here.”
“I imagine you feel cold.” It was summer in Ratnapida. Mid-eighties on a cool day.
“The carp are bigger,” he said. “Even in just three years.”
More silence.
“Lore, will you come home?”
I didn’t know what to say.
“She’s gone,” he said softly. “Your mother.”
“What happened?”
“It was terrible.”
I took his arm as we walked, and he told me: Tok arriving in the middle of the night, shouting, “making