Page 11 of When We Believed in Mermaids

Ms. Kanawa nods. “She and Sarah have never got on.”

“Why’s that?” Simon asks.

“They’re both”—she pauses, chooses her words carefully—“willful girls. And there is some understanding that they are the children of popular parents.”

“Popular?” I echo.

“Well-known. Emma’s mother is a broadcaster, of course, on TVNZ, and you, Mr. Edwards, are so visible because of the clubs.” He’s the spokesman for his own gyms, the genial host inviting everyone to visit and experience the health of good exercise. He also conducts fund-raisers every year for the Auckland Safeswim Initiative, a drive to make sure every child in the city knows how to swim.

“I see.” I glance at Simon, who is wearing his unreadable genial expression, but I see his displeasure in the hard line of his mouth.

“Have you observed bullying, Ms. Kanawa?” he asks.

“Some name-calling and the like. The girls in question were reprimanded.”

“What names?” I ask.

“Oh, I don’t think that’s—”

“What names?” I repeat.

She sighs. “They call Sarah Shrek. Because she’s so tall.”

Simon is still dead silent beside me.

“And”—she slants a glance toward Simon—“Science Nerd.”

“That’s an insult?”

She lifts a shoulder.

“I’ll talk to Emma’s mother,” I say. “In the meantime, will you let me know if there seems to be more trouble?”

“Of course.”

Simon’s jaw ripples slightly. “How were the girls reprimanded?”

“Oh, I don’t...I can’t remember.”

“I believe you’re lying, Ms. Kanawa, and I do not tolerate lying.”

She colors and begins to protest. “No, I...I mean—”

Simon stands, rising to his considerable six-four height. “I would suggest you make certain that any bullying, of any child, is swiftly punished. It’s just not sporting, and it should not be tolerated.”

“Yes, yes. Of course you’re right.” Her cheeks burn magenta.

“And do not lie to me again.”

Simon takes my hand as we walk out, and he’s walking fast enough that I have trouble keeping up and skip behind him. He finally notices and halts. “Sorry. I just hate bullies.”

“I know.” I never liked big sporting types before I met him, but this particular thing, his absolute adherence to fairness and honor, set him apart immediately. “I love you for it.”

His shoulders ease, and he bends down to touch our noses together. “That’s not the only thing.”

“Not even a little bit.”

“Oh, it’s not little.”