Moon in a Dead Eye: Shocking, hilarious and poignant noir. Pascal Garnier

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СКАЧАТЬ blonde-haired and wearing skinny jeans; the man tall and thin, dressed in a brightly coloured tracksuit. He even had hair. Black hair, very black. Martial saw a slight twitch at the corner of Odette’s mouth, always a sign she was annoyed in some way. He put his arm around her shoulders.

      ‘See, you can imagine all kinds of things, and something altogether different turns up.’

      ‘They look very young to be moving in here.’

      ‘Well, they’re quite far away … We’ll have to wait to see them up close.’

      ‘We should go and introduce ourselves.’

      ‘Yes, but not right now. We’ll go over later.’

      Now that they could picture their neighbours, however roughly, their efforts to uncover their identities were redoubled.

      ‘Profession?’

      ‘He must be … a dentist or a surgeon, something medical.’

      ‘Why?’

      ‘He looks the sporty type, fit and healthy.’

      ‘Being fit and healthy doesn’t make you a doctor! What about her?’

      ‘Hairdresser, no, perfume counter. Some kind of saleswoman, anyway. Your turn.’

      ‘He … Oh, I really don’t care. We’ll find out soon enough.’

      ‘Rubbish!’

      ‘It’s true. Now that I’ve seen them, I’ve lost interest.’

      ‘Liar! You lose. You’re doing the dishes … Martial, come and look! They’ve got a piano!’

      ‘A piano?’

      ‘Yes, a white one. I just saw it go past.’

      ‘A white piano … Who do you think plays it, him or her?’

      ‘I thought you weren’t interested!’

      ‘I know, but a piano changes everything, a white one especially.’

      They spent the rest of the day coming up with many and varied contradictory theories about the instrument, which had taken on the status of a third person in their eyes. There was one point on which they were agreed: there was no way you could play classical music on a white piano.

      ‘We should probably introduce ourselves before it gets dark, shouldn’t we?’

      ‘Yes, you’re right. I’ll get changed and we can go over.’

      ‘We’re not going to a cocktail party. You’re fine as you are.’

      ‘You must be joking! I don’t want them taking me for a slattern. I’ll be down in five minutes.’

      Twenty minutes later they were walking arm in arm up the road towards the heart-warming sight of a house with its lights on. There was something a bit strange about all these houses that looked the same, though; it felt like ringing their own doorbell. The man answered. As the door opened to reveal a stack of boxes in the hallway, the neighbour’s lips parted to reveal two rows of unnaturally white, straight teeth.

      ‘Hello?’

      ‘Oh, good evening, um … we’re your neighbours, the house over there with the lights on. I’m Martial Sudre and this is my wife, Odette.’

      The man’s smile, which seemed already to be stretched to its limit, went off the scale.

      ‘What a pleasure to meet you. Maxime Node and … Marlène! … Marlène, come and meet our neighbours!’

      Madame Node’s girlish figure appeared at the end of the hallway, but as she walked the few steps to the door with her hand outstretched before her, she gained the full weight of her years. She was still slim and trim, but the spots on her skin (which seemed to have undergone a facelift or two) made her look like a withered reinette apple.

      ‘Oh, how kind of you to come! Marlène. How do you do?’

      It was extraordinary how Maxime Node could talk whilst still displaying his dazzling array of teeth.

      ‘So, you were the first ones here?’

      ‘That’s right, somebody had to be.’

      ‘And … do you like it?’

      ‘Oh yes! It’s so quiet! The weather hasn’t been great but that’s down to the time of year.’

      ‘Of course. Anyway, it’s been rotten weather everywhere this year.’

      They engaged in the customary small talk for a quarter of an hour, all the while studying each other closely out of the corners of their eyes, like naturalists examining a newly discovered species.

      ‘… and there are so many interesting places to visit around here – churches, the beach … Anyway, we can tell you all about it another time, we don’t want to keep you – we know what it’s like moving house! Well, have a good evening, and if you need anything at all, just ask. We’re the house with the lights on, over there.’

      ‘Great, see you soon!’

      Martial and Odette walked back holding hands, like two children coming home from their first day at school. Odette seemed relieved.

      ‘You were right, we had to see them up close. That woman’s at least seventy.’

      ‘He’s no spring chicken either. That raven-black hair doesn’t fool me for one minute, or his teeth for that matter!’

      ‘They seem like nice people though. Smiley.’

      ‘Him especially! My word, he’s a walking advert for his dentist!’

      ‘Martial!’

      They fell through the door in fits of giggles and, for the first time, the house felt warm and cosy, lived in. They opened a half-bottle of champagne and a tin of foie gras.

      The sky was undeniably blue, not a wisp of cloud on the horizon. Though there was still a chill in the air, making an extra layer essential, Martial and Odette had decided to have breakfast on the deck. It was 16 April and the first time they had eaten outdoors. Martial was doing battle with his tartine. The homemade apple jelly was too runny, spilling out of the holes in the bread as he spread it.

      ‘So, what do you think?’

      ‘It’s nice, very nice. Maybe a little bit runny …’

      ‘That’s because of the apples. I could only get Golden Delicious. We’re happy here, though, aren’t we?’

      ‘Right.’

      ‘They said on the radio this morning it’s raining in Paris. Do you realise how lucky we are?’

      ‘Yes … Damn it! I’ve got it all СКАЧАТЬ