"I'll go and see what I have."
"Did Jack like Harry Potter?"
The child's question was innocent, but it caught her off guard because it was so direct and delivered without the awkwardness that always accompanied the comments of adults. Most people didn't dare mention his name at all. "Yes, he did," she replied.
"Did he have any wands?"
"Yes, a few. They're in his bedroom."
"Can I see them?"
Before she could think his question over, she heard herself replying, "Yes, after bath." Bruno didn't want to wait a moment longer than necessary. He stood up and let Celeste wrap him in a towel. She rubbed him down, feeling his small bones beneath.
With his feet still covered in bubbles he padded into the corridor. "Which is his bedroom?"
"This one," she replied solemnly, pushing the door open. It squeaked quietly but put up no resistance.
"Wow!" Bruno cried. "This is an awesome room!" His big chocolate-truffle eyes swept over the tractor wallpaper and matching curtains, the surfaces covered with all sorts of toys and the big double bed that lay empty in the middle of the room, as silent as a tomb. On top of it lay a much-loved toy rabbit. Bruno lifted it off the bed. "What's he called?"
"Horace," Celeste replied, her eyes stinging with the threat of tears.
"Jack really loved him, didn't he? Mum read me the story of the Velveteen Rabbit, where toys come alive if they're loved. I don't think that really happens."
"I think you're right, Bruno."
"I suppose he was alive to Jack, though. Like Brodie, my bear. He's alive to me."
"I think you'll find wands over here," she said. When she reached for the basket that sat on top of the desk, she saw that her fingers were trembling.
"Wow! He has loads of wands. This one's Voldemort's, awesome!" Bruno began waving it about, holding his towel up with the other hand. He peered into the basket to see what others Jack had. "That one's Harry's, and that one," he said, poking it with Voldemort's, "is Dumbledore's."
"I'm impressed you know all the names."
"I've seen all the films," he told her proudly. "Stupefy!" he exclaimed, waving the wand at an imaginary adversary. The child's towel slipped and Celeste saw the gentle curve of his back and the delicate line of his spine. Her throat constricted as she remembered Jack's tender body and the countless times she had pressed her face against his thick, velvet skin and kissed him. She knelt beside Bruno and rearranged the towel. "Don't get cold," she said softly.
Celeste looked through the books on the shelf. Each held a tender memory of evenings spent on the bed, reading together. She pulled out one about a dragon. "How about this one?" she suggested, holding it up.
"That looks good," he replied. "I like dragons."
"Let's go and put on your pajamas, then."
"Do you think there were ever dragons?"
"No," she said, walking into the corridor.
"They might have been dinosaurs."
"Perhaps."
He padded along behind her. "Stupefy," he hissed again.
6.
When Robert went upstairs, he was surprised to see Bruno sitting up in bed, looking over Celeste's shoulder at the picture book. He was engrossed in the story and Celeste was reading in the same flamboyant way she had once read to Jack. Her voice shifted up and down as she took up the different roles, and every now and then, when the dragon grew angry, her deep baritone made the little boy laugh out loud. Robert paused a moment and watched, his heart aching with longing.
When she finished, she closed the book. "So, what do you think?" she asked.
"I think the dragon got what he deserved," Bruno replied.
"I think you're right. But he learned a valuable lesson, didn't he?"
"You don't get anywhere by being mean."
Celeste smiled. "You most certainly don't." She stood up. "You sleep well, now." The boy snuggled beneath the duvet with his bear tucked under his chin.
A moment later Robert appeared at his bedside. "Sweet dreams, Bruno."
" 'Night, Uncle Robert," he replied. Celeste moved away but Robert bent down and gave the child a kiss on his temple.
They left the door ajar and the light on in the corridor. "Fancy a glass of wine?" Robert asked in a quiet voice.
"Yes, I would." She nodded.
"Good."
They went downstairs and into the kitchen. Robert took a couple of wineglasses down from the cupboard and looked through the rack for a suitable bottle. He felt tonight merited a special vintage.
Celeste picked up a Lego plane that Bruno had made and left on the kitchen table. She turned it around in her fingers. "Clever, isn't he?" she said.
"He's a good lad," Robert replied.
"Shame, I think Jack and he would have got on like a house on fire."
Robert was surprised to hear her refer to their son in this way. The name usually caused her so much pain he had learned not to mention it.
"I think you're right." He poured her a glass of merlot and one for himself.
She took a sip. "I feel foolish," she said with a sigh.
"Why?"
"I've been unreasonable. I'm sorry."
"You've got nothing to be sorry about."
"I've been rude to your mother."
"She's tough. She can take it."
"He's just a boy," she said with a frown.
"And you've made him feel very welcome."
She took another sip and her eyes glistened. "I don't know why I ever thought I couldn't."
Suddenly they were interrupted by a peal of laughter from Bruno's bedroom upstairs. They stared at each other in bewilderment. It sounded as if Bruno was having a one-sided conversation. "Who's he talking to?" Robert whispered.
"He talks to his bear."
They listened some more. "That bear must be very chatty." Robert laughed.
Celeste smiled. "They're both very chatty."
"Shall we leave him? He's obviously having a good time up there."
"Yes, let him enjoy himself." She took another sip of wine. "I'll take out some smoked salmon."
"Great." He watched her as she moved about the kitchen. Her face looked less tense. He didn't dare reflect on her smile in case it disappeared again.
The following morning when Celeste and Robert awoke, they heard Bruno in Jack's bedroom next door. Celeste sat up in alarm, her heart thumping jealously in her chest. Jack's room was sacred. Why hadn't she told him? Her initial instinct was to hurry in there and drag the child out. But Robert caught her arm before she made the dash out of bed. "Celeste, what are you going to do?"
"He can't play in there!" she hissed.
"Why? He's a little boy and it's full of little boy's toys."
"Because it's Jack's room!" Her tone was full of accusation again.
"Do you think Jack would mind?"
"It doesn't matter. I mind." She tore her arm away and climbed out of bed.
Just as she reached the door to Jack's room, she hesitated. The child was chatting away. She pushed open the door and peered inside. He was sitting cross-legged on Jack's bed with Jack's Harry Potter Studio book open in front of him. His bear was lying with Jack's rabbit. He was talking softly, turning the pages, commenting on the pictures.
"Good morning, Bruno," she said. He looked up with a start, his face turning crimson as if he had been caught doing something wicked. "Who are you talking to?" she asked.
"No one," he replied quickly.
"Your bear?"
His big eyes stared back at her, the expression in them wild and fearful. "Yes, my bear," he replied, but he wasn't a good liar.
"Darling, you're not in trouble. You can talk to whoever you like." He seemed to relax a little then. It obviously hadn't occurred to him not to play in Jack's room. "Are you hungry?" He nodded. "What would you like for breakfast? Pancakes?"
"I love pancakes," he replied, closing the book and pulling it off the bed.
"Would you like to borrow Jack's book?"
"Yes, please."
"All right, but you must look after it. Jack's things are very precious to me."
"I will."
"Good. Go and put on your dressing gown and I'll make you some pancakes in the kitchen."
Celeste returned to her bedroom. Robert was getting dressed. "So?" he inquired. "You didn't turf him out, did you?"
"Of course not. He was talking to his bear again."
"Good."
"I suppose it won't do any harm to let him play in Jack's bedroom," Celeste conceded.
"I don't think Jack would have minded," said Robert, straightening his tie.
"Jack would have loved a friend like Bruno to play with," said Celeste. She looked towards the door and frowned again.
7.
Bruno disappeared into the garden straight after breakfast. Robert noticed Celeste's face as she watched him leave. She looked disappointed. She turned and caught him watching her. "He likes your parents," she said.
"He likes you, too," he told her. Her expression softened. She looked vulnerable. He put his arm around her waist and kissed her cheek.
"What was that for?" she asked, a weak blush seeping through the pallor.
"Do I need a reason to kiss my wife?"
"Of course not, it's just that . . ."
"I haven't kissed you for a long time." She lowered her eyes. "You're doing a great job. He probably wants my father to take him to the farm."
"Yes, it's a lovely day. Perhaps they'll be cutting. He said he wanted to go on a combine."
"I imagine they'll start at midday when the dew dries off. Why don't you go, too?"
She shrugged. "Maybe," she replied.