Lights Down by Hurley Graham

Author:Hurley, Graham [Hurley, Graham]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781448309245
Amazon: B09SM3TGMN
Goodreads: 61404607
Publisher: Severn House
Published: 2022-07-05T07:00:00+00:00

‘If only …’ She pulls a face. ‘Abroad is off limits. Even England.’

‘A blessing, quoi?’ Rémy has opened the rear door for me.

We leave the airport and plunge into a maze of narrow lanes while Claudine half-turns in the front passenger seat and offers titbits from the feast that used to be the Parisian media scene. How she’s been trying to make ends meet. How disappointing are the rewards of private tuition. How even the Arabs won’t pay decent money to have their kids schooled in Molière and Racine.

‘Thank God for Rémy.’ She shoots him a grin. ‘No mortgage on the apartment? No rent to pay? How lucky are we?’

By the time we get to Monsault’s place, she’s pressing me on Flixcombe.

‘Rémy raves about it.’

‘He’s been there?’ This comes as another surprise.

‘Of course not. I’m talking about the script. The old days. Ratko sent us his photos. I’m guessing nothing’s changed.’

Mention of Ratko’s brief visit to Flixcombe puts another temptation in my path but thankfully I resist it.

‘You’re guessing right,’ I say lightly. ‘Time stopped a while back in our part of the country, and some of us are very grateful.’

Rémy has come to a halt in front of a pair of new-looking gates, solid wood inlaid with iron studs. Tall granite walls stretch in both directions, and the gates are flanked with discreet cameras. Rémy extends a long arm through his open window and presses the entryphone to announce himself. I, meanwhile, am gazing at the name of the property, tastefully picked out on a shave of grey slate.

La Maison Blanche. The White House. Back in the day, H’s army of little helpers on the Pompey drug scene were full of in-jokes like these. White as in cocaine? A casual nod to the source of all this heavy security? Very funny.

The gates open with the faintest whisper, and we’re suddenly looking at two large Ridgebacks, both chained. One of them lunges playfully at the Renault as Rémy accelerates onto the gravel drive. The drive is flanked by small grey stones, waist high. To me, a Brittany girl, they look like a bonzai version of menhir, the Bronze Age eruptions that dot the Breton landscape and attract tourists by the thousands. There are more of them around the side of the property, and Claudine and I agree that we rather like them.

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