Narrow Dog To Carcassonne by Darlington Terry

Author:Darlington, Terry [Terry Darlington]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781409084969
Publisher: Transworld

CHAPTER EIGHT

PARIS AND THE SEINE

A Silver Bowl

I am not a handbag – Jim hunched in his fluorescent orange life jacket, giving the betrayed eyes. I am a creature of beauty and dignity, the sportsdog of the English racing man. Do you realize I am the fastest animal in the world?

Oh come on Jim, I said, and picked him up by the handle and slung him on to the bow of the big barge alongside and clambered after him and on to the pontoon. I dropped his life jacket back on to the Phyllis May and we climbed out of the basin into the street, and walked across the Austerlitz Bridge and along the Left Bank.

Down on the quay there was The Albatross, in a black tracksuit, running hard, waving his arms, going for a take-off. He went behind some trees and I don't know if he made it into the air. If he did he would have headed for the Atlantic hurricanes, passing over Notre- Dame, a black cross against the blue.

Jim started to tremble. He had spotted a black and brown dachshund, polished like a conker. The two hounds rushed around, athlete and dwarf, getting on fine. Happily we have room on the quays, said the old lady with the dachshund. What is a dachshund like as a breed? I asked. He is very sensitive, monsieur, said the lady. He is frightened of cars, of people, of noise. If I go out of the room he cries inconsolably. In fact he is a great nuisance, my little Prévert. She looked at Prévert adoringly and Prévert looked right back –

I am what I am;

That's what I'm for.

You think it's a shame,

You want something more?

The last time I saw Paris was nearly twenty years ago. One of my executives had gone mad in the Hôtel de l'Arc de Triomphe. I had to coax him out of the bathroom and send him home strapped to a door and then finish his research job, so there wasn't a lot of time to look round. But I had been much taken with the outdoor sculpture museum overlooking the Seine. And Here it is, said the notices, here it is again, right here, the outdoor sculpture museum, remember this, this is great. The bushes had grown tall and Jim and I walked between them and there were empty plinths covered with graffiti and on one of them, outside his house of cardboard boxes, a man was laying a white T-shirt to dry in the sun.

Notre-Dame strained on its stone ropes, longing to throw itself into the Seine and sail away. The sun beat on its sides and tourists washed around like surf. I looked up into the wind but The Albatross would be over Le Havre by now. It was time for refreshment, time to face the fury of the Paris waiters.

I sat at a pavement café and hooked Jim to the table leg while he tried to strangle himself, bring the table down, look for scraps, and check out the chances of sex.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.