The Panda Theory: Shocking, hilarious and poignant noir. Pascal Garnier

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      ‘A panda. I won it at a shooting gallery. I thought the kids might like it.’

      ‘That’s kind of you. Come on in.’

      On the table in the back room the bottle of port stood next to an empty glass. Gabriel tossed the grinning panda onto a chair as José slumped on another. Though one was in a state of bliss and the other in despair, Gabriel couldn’t help but notice a resemblance between the two of them. He sat down and waited silently while José covered his face with his hands, rubbing his eyes and stubbly cheeks.

      ‘Do you want a drink? Shit, it’s empty. I’ll get another.’

      José didn’t move though. It was as if he was stuck to his chair, which was in turn welded to the floor. The room was silent except for José’s laboured nasal breathing, drawn up from the depths of his chest. Beside him, the panda, like a happy guest, sat waiting for dinner. The only thing it lacked was a napkin round its neck and a knife and fork in either paw. It was exactly the same size as José.

      ‘How’s Marie?’

      ‘Well, you know … It’s not a cyst. They don’t know what it is. She was sleeping. I mean … she’s in a coma. She looks so different, all yellow, her nose all pinched, and purple around her eyes. She’s got no mouth, just a small slit with a tube coming out. And all the machines in her room make noises like televisions that haven’t been tuned properly. They either don’t know what’s wrong with her or they just won’t tell me. I didn’t recognise her at first. I thought I’d got the wrong room.’

      His eyes filled with tears and his nose began to run. He was drowning from the inside. Gabriel lowered his head and traced the outline of a daisy on the tablecloth with his finger. She loves me, she loves me not …

      ‘Have you eaten?’ Gabriel asked.

      ‘No, I’m sorry, I completely forgot about you.’

      ‘Don’t worry. You need to eat something though.’

      ‘I’m not hungry.’

      ‘I could rustle something up. I know where everything is. Let me help.’

      ‘If you want. Thank you for coming. I don’t really know what I’m doing at the moment. There are some bottles under the sink. Let’s have a drink.’

      ‘I’ll go and get you one.’

      Pasta, tomatoes, tuna, onions and olives. Gabriel worked like a surgeon, his actions neat and precise. It was like being back at the shooting gallery. No need to think, just act. In the space of fifteen minutes the pasta bake was in the oven, he had laid the table and filled the glasses with wine. José had already emptied his twice and was staring mournfully at the panda.

      ‘What kind of animal is it? A bear?’

      ‘A panda.’

      ‘It’s big.’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘The children love anything that’s big. It reassures them. I didn’t have the heart to go and see them after the hospital. I phoned them and said that everything was okay and that the four of us would be together again soon.’

      ‘You did the right thing.’

      ‘They didn’t believe me. “Papa, your voice is all funny,” they said. You can’t hide anything from kids. They’re cleverer than us. When I was a kid, I knew everything, well, most things. But now I don’t understand a thing. What’s the point of growing up? It’s stupid.’

      ‘I’ll get the pasta.’

      With his elbows on the table, José hoovered up his meal. The tomato sauce ran from the corners of his mouth, to his chin and down his neck. Like an ogre. Once finished, he pushed the empty plate away and burped, then wiped his mouth on his cuff.

      ‘Jesus, that was good! You’re hired. I’m not kidding. You’re hired, seeing as Marie …’

      José thumped the table. The bottle and glasses went flying. The panda slumped on its shoulder. José grabbed the stuffed animal and threw his head back. All you could see was his uvula going up and down like a yo-yo.

      ‘For God’s sake, why!?’

      He pounded the tablecloth with his fists. The panda rolled onto the floor. José collapsed forward, his forehead on the table, his arms dangling by his sides. His back began to shudder. Gabriel picked up the bottle and glasses.

      ‘We had everything we needed to be happy. Everything.’

      ‘I know.’

      José looked up and wiped his nose on his sleeve. He was frowning, his mouth twisted in an ugly grimace.

      ‘What do you know?’

      ‘Pain.’

      José screwed one eye shut and focused the other on Gabriel. He was dribbling. He was ugly. He was hurting.

      ‘Who are you? I don’t give a shit about your pain. Why aren’t you telling me she’s going to be okay, that everything is going to be fine, like it was before? Why are you looking at me with those doe eyes and not saying anything?’

      ‘Because I don’t know.’

      ‘You don’t know?’

      Furious, José leapt up, his eyes bloodshot, and knocked the table over. The veins in his neck bulged, his muscles tensed. He stood there, shoulders hunched and fists clenched, ready to pounce. Gabriel didn’t flinch.

      ‘You don’t know anything. You don’t know anything at all! All you know is how to cook. Get lost. Fuck off. You and your fucking bear. Beat it. I never want to see you here again. Never, ever!’

      The pavement gleamed as if covered with shiny sealskin. The night skies of cities are always yellow, rain or no rain. Gabriel picked up the panda and laid it on the lid of a dustbin. It sat there, confident, radiant, offering its open arms to whoever wanted to take it home.

      ‘When they die, cats purr. Yes, it’s true, I’m telling you! When I had to have mine put down she was purring … Hang on a second … Monsieur Gabriel, can I talk to you a moment?’

      ‘Of course.’

      Madeleine said her goodbyes to the Sonia on the other end of the phone and hung up. She was wearing a low-cut pink T-shirt, which emphasised her chest, especially when she leant forward. Her little nameplate necklace bounced from one breast to the other.

      ‘Are you thinking of staying for much longer?’

      ‘I don’t know, perhaps a bit longer, yes.’

      ‘It’s just that your room is reserved for someone else from the fourth to the seventh. Would you mind changing rooms?’

      ‘No, not at all. What day is it today?’

      ‘Actually, it’s the fourth.’

      ‘Ah, СКАЧАТЬ