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

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СКАЧАТЬ Very nice people, nothing was too much trouble, but could he imagine seeing in the New Year with them? Not likely! And as for wearing socks with sandals, dear God!

      Maxime rubbed aftershave into his cheeks, chuckling at the memory of Martial’s feet before his expression turned to a frown. There were white hairs at his temples. He would have to get some more dye.

      ‘This is very kind of you, Monsieur Flesh. I couldn’t have managed it on my own. If you could put it down there on the deck … a little to the left … There, perfect! Thanks ever so much.’

      ‘You’re welcome, Madame Node.’

      ‘It’s an olive tree. It’ll do well in that spot.’

      The fragile stem clinging to its stake, peeking up like a periscope from its huge pot, perfectly summed up the touching pathos of human hope. Monsieur Flesh shook his head doubtfully. The man lacked imagination.

      ‘I’m planning to put a bay tree the other side. What do you think?’

      ‘Better wait and see …’

      ‘Indeed … It’s funny, my husband spent his whole life selling greenhouses but he hates flowers. Not like my son. He used to make me such lovely posies, even when he was very little! He has a natural eye for it. Do you like flowers, Monsieur Flesh?’

      ‘I look after them. Right, I’d better swing by number twelve. There’s a woman coming next week.’

      ‘A woman?’

      ‘Yes, a single woman. Have a good day, Madame Node.’

      Marlène took off her brand-new gardening gloves and watched the caretaker walking back up the road. His arms dangled at his sides, as though pushing an invisible wheelbarrow. A single woman … Well, she had to be old in any case. And anyway … He would never admit it, but since his heart scare, Maxime was not quite the same. Something had changed, imperceptibly. It was as though he felt he was being watched. He was always checking the time; it had become a sort of tic. It couldn’t be down to her; she had given him free rein years ago, leaving him to his own devices so long as their life together was not disrupted. She had realised early on this was the only way to go. She did not resent him for it, it was just the way he was – he liked to feel attractive. And he had attracted her, so much so that she had left the Opéra to focus all her attentions on doing the housework. She didn’t regret it; she would probably never have made it to prima ballerina. In any case, she had never gone without; Maxime was generous and had showered her with enough luxuries to allow her to forget the essentials. And then Régis had come along … You were allowed to have your children to stay for two weeks of the year here. She had already got his room ready … Maxime had got angry … She had cried …

      An ant emerged from between two flagstones. Knitting its antennae together, it seemed to ponder which way to go. Marlène crushed it under her foot.

      Odette felt like learning something, but she wasn’t sure what. Italian, ikebana, yoga, belly dancing, Turkish cookery, surgery – anything, as long as it was new! So much time on her hands … Every day felt as long as a Sunday. This was her time, hers and no one else’s, and she could do whatever she liked with it. Yet the vast virgin territory bestowed upon her was no more than a big lump of ice floating on an ocean of emptiness, melting a little more each day. It preyed on her mind, the fear of wasting it. She wasn’t used to such freedom, and felt burdened by it. She had done as she was told her whole life, not simply out of laziness or lack of courage, but because she sincerely believed that modelling her existence on a train timetable would put her on the right track for success in the workplace and at home. It might not be perfect, but she had yet to discover a better alternative. There was cinema day, mountain-hike day, the day they went for dinner at so and so’s – and life was good … or so it seemed to her.

      Odette took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. A gust of wind ruffled the pages of the interiors catalogue lying open on her knees.

      She wasn’t so certain any more. But what was the use in dwelling on the past? All that mattered was the here and now. They were both in good health, they had everything they needed to be happy, and they were free!

      Her gaze followed the line of the security fence which screened off her horizons. A ray of sunlight bounced off the black eye of a CCTV camera.

      There was no reason to doubt it, they had been happy, with a few ups and downs, the odd regret, but nothing worth stewing over! They had lived an honest life. The world had become cynical; nobody took these sorts of values seriously any more. Well, if the world had moved on from them, they had moved on from it too. She and Martial were perfectly capable of looking after themselves – they’d been married forty years after all! And it had gone without a hitch! They hadn’t even needed to have children; the two of them got on just fine on their own. There was no reason for that to change …

      The shadow of a doubt was obscured by the sun for a moment. Everything became a uniform grey, cold and silent, like during an eclipse. Odette shivered, not only from the chill but something else, a sudden feeling of lacking, an emptiness that took her breath away. Then the sun came out again. She heard the reassuring hum of the TV from the living room. The Nodes waved to her as they drove past. It must be around midday. Everything was getting back to normal.

      ‘Martial?’

      ‘Yes?’

      ‘Don’t you think we should call Dacapo about the clubhouse?’

      ‘What for?’

      ‘To get them to open it, of course! I mean, we’re paying for it, aren’t we?’

      ‘There aren’t enough of us.’

      ‘Excuse me, there are going to be five of us soon! We’re entitled to it anyway. I don’t know about you, but I want to do things.’

      ‘What things?’

      ‘Well, I don’t know! That’s for the social secretary to think of. It’s her job to come up with things for us to do.’

      ‘Fine, we’ll call him. Let’s heat up that gratin, I’m hungry.’

      ‘Did you hear that thing on the news, Martial, about a doe attacking an old lady?’

      ‘It was a roebuck.’

      ‘Yes, well, same thing. I mean, bears, yes, wolves even, but a doe? I don’t know what kind of muck they’re spreading on the fields these days. All the little creatures guzzle it up and then go mad. You’ll see, soon it won’t be safe to walk anywhere.’

      They were having a drink on the deck at the Nodes’ place. The two women were indoors. You could hear the low murmur of their voices, the occasional word or burst of laughter ringing out clearly. It had not yet quite become a ritual, but they were going round to each other’s houses more and more often, and the mood was ever more relaxed. They had a good time, talking about everything and nothing, especially Maxime, who always had something to say whatever the subject. He found silences oppressive and was compelled to fill them. This suited Martial down to the ground, since he had spent his life cultivating the art of making conversation by nodding and smiling in agreement. Yes, it was nice, watching the sky turn mauve, then from mauve to purple, the stars coming out unnoticed. They had good weather almost every day now. Everywhere they looked, it was turning green. Everything they touched was sticky. Spring was in the air.

      ‘Top-up, СКАЧАТЬ