when he recognized her.
“I was just listening to that too. What an incredible woman.”
William Brody nodded. He still radiated dignity, despite being in a dressing-gown and slippers. His good hand flattened what little hair he had on his head.
She placed the flowers next to her. Anya hoped they could have a conversation this time, so pulled out an A4 sized whiteboard with marker and eraser attached. Just like the ones Ben’s class used at school.
The show was finishing and Anya sat on the made bed before she spoke.
“It’s hard to imagine how people can be so depraved,” she said.
He gestured for the whiteboard and began to write.
“True. Together they often incite corruption. But the sort of depravity that leads to groups of men raping and maiming women for economics…” She shook her head.
“Would you like a biscuit,” she asked, and opened the lid of the tin, offering the scribe a piece of shortbread. He didn’t need encouragement. The pen dropped to his lap and he held the piece of shortbread to his nose, closing his eyes as if smelling an expensive cigar. Instead of chewing it, he seemed to roll it around in his mouth, making it last as long as possible.
She realized that even the simple pleasure of eating what he wanted when he wanted it was no longer in his control.
“I know the key to your heart.”
His cheeks glowed and he reached over to squeeze Anya’s hand. He then collected the pen from his lap and wrote again.
“Assume he’s working hard, haven’t seen him much.”
The conversation stalled when a nurse entered the room and fussed over the flowers. She scurried off to find a vase and disappeared as quickly as she had appeared.
Anya noticed a chess set on his bedside cabinet. “Do you play?”
As with the shortbread, his eyes told her he didn’t have to be asked twice.
She wheeled over the bedside table and began to set up the pieces. The senior Brody might be more comfortable with the distraction of a game. She knew she would be.
Anya looked across the table. This man’s physical disabilities belied his brain function. The whiteboard was already a hit.
“Women are the ones who tend the fields, bring back food and water. By attacking or killing them, there’s no one left to do the job, so the militia cuts off the villagers’ food and source of income-they starve them out.”
“That’s not what a defense lawyer is supposed to say.” Dan Brody had mentioned that his father had chosen a career in legal aid. His son had opted for the prestige and remuneration of private practice.
William rested the pen on the board and began the game by moving a pawn. Anya responded and they settled down to a series of safe moves.
“Do you mind if I ask you about what happened when Therese’s first baby was born? We need to know whether or not she took a breath.”
The elder gentleman moved another chess piece before writing,
“You were there with Therese. That must have been awful to go through. Were her parents in any way supportive?”
He shook his head.
“That must have been so difficult. Did Therese suffer in the labor?”
Anya captured one of William’s knights.
“I’m assuming that nobody else but the midwife knew about the baby, or there would have been questions.”
Now the story made sense. Therese had become pregnant and hidden herself away, after being disowned by her family. It was a different time, with no acknowledgment of loss from miscarriage or stillbirth. People carried on as if nothing had happened.
They played chess for a few more minutes before Anya spoke again.
“You said before that the father was still alive but he didn’t know about the baby.”
Dan had mentioned that his maternal grandfather had been a judge. So the baby’s father had known the family, and presumably had social status on par with theirs.
It couldn’t have been easy. “You must have really loved her to stand by a pregnancy to another man and take any flak for a shotgun wedding.” She wondered if William had been her choice or her only option.
“Did you know the man responsible?”
“Okay, anything you didn’t like about him?” she joked, moving a castle. “Check.”
“There are a lot of people who are biased and opinionated.” She studied his face and then realized what he meant.
Instead of counterattacking on the board, her opponent took a while to write.
