Talking to Ghosts by Hervé Le Corre & Frank Wynne

Author:Hervé Le Corre & Frank Wynne
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Quercus
Published: 2014-11-11T16:00:00+00:00

16

He and Pradeau had decided to go and forget their troubles “somewhere pumping with sound and fury” and they found such a place; from the moment they stepped inside they had been bludgeoned by the deafening howl of feral rock music and overwhelmed by the oppressive heat and the swirl of smoke.

Right now, Pradeau was talking to him, but he could not make out what he was saying, catching only a word or a syllable here and there and attempting to string them into something that made sense, but more often than not the crushing wall of sound which kept them pressed against the bar almost as effectively as the people crowded around them reduced all human language to gibberish, so Vilar simply nodded and smiled, or adopted a serious look, trying to coordinate himself with the alternately satisfied, excited or distraught expressions flickering across the face hovering above a pint of Guinness less than fifty centimetres away. From time to time an arm would be thrust between them only to immediately withdraw clutching the handle of a tankard, and they would have to step back or duck their heads to make way for the countless beers of varying hues being swilled by the gallon all round. The place was pounding to a fusion of rock and heavy metal with shrieking guitars and a thumping bass that hit you in the solar plexus like a dozen Lilliputian boxers let loose among the clientele. Vilar thought he recognised a Gary Moore song he used to listen to long ago, the high-pitched harmonies sounding horrible at this volume.

Vilar blinked, trying to keep his eyes open in the thick, acrid pall of smoke that clung to his sweaty face and even seemed to compact the glare of the spots into tangible slabs of light through which hazy shadows moved. From the moment they arrived, his mouth had been filled with a coppery taste which he did his best to wash away with long swigs of beer, only to immediately light another cigarette since there was nothing else to do, because he had long since lost any desire to do anything at all tonight.

Pradeau began by talking about his ex-wife, how he still did not understand why she had left, yet still he felt vaguely guilty – miserable, wretched – and Vilar could hear the mournful intonations in his voice as it grew hoarse from drinking, smoking and having to shout in order to be heard. Then he talked about his sick mother, whose memory was completely gone, his distraught father trying to take care of her, stooped, shrunken in his grief, constantly by her side, a shadow of the shadow she had become. He looked up and Vilar saw the heartbroken look of a little boy, then he smiled bravely as he lit his umpteenth cigarette. He and his brother sometimes met up at their parents’ house, but found they had nothing to say to each other.

Once or twice he had talked bitterly and regretfully about the brother with whom he had cut all ties.

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.