The Islanders (2015) by Pascal Garnier

Author:Pascal Garnier [Garnier, Pascal]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Euro Noir
ISBN: 9781910477120
Publisher: Gallic Books
Published: 2015-06-12T12:00:00+00:00

It was true Jeanne and Olivier had slept together, but contrary to what Rodolphe had imagined, they had not made love. After he went off in a huff carrying the bottle under his arm, the two of them had sat in silence for a while without touching, cut off from the world in a place that belonged to them alone. Things had moved on since their first encounter the previous day; there was no sense of surprise any more, no reference to the past, no doubts. What they had just done belonged to the realm of ritual, of solemn ceremony, and they were left feeling purified. Olivier poured himself a large glass of wine. He wanted more, even more. A surge of heat ran from his heart to his head and back again. Why had he ever given up drinking? Why had he given up believing?

‘It’s been a long time, you know.’

‘Yes, I know.’

‘Did you think we would ever see one another again?’

‘Sometimes, but I tried not to think about it. Things never happen if you’re waiting for them.’

Olivier drank another glass. It was his heart he was filling up; it had run dry so long ago. With every gulp, he felt himself blossoming like a flower after a day in the sun.

‘So what happens now?’

‘No idea. We go to bed, sleep, carry on.’

He let himself be guided to Jeanne’s room, bringing the bottle and glass with him. He knew he would not sleep until the bottle was empty.

The bed was unmade, the sheets and covers bundled on the floor. He placed the bottle and glass on the floor and lay down with his arms behind his neck, his head resting on the single pillow. He could hear water running in the bathroom where Jeanne had gone. The light from the half-open door was like a lemon-yellow streak across the darkness of the room. To the left of it loomed the dark mass of a chest of drawers piled high with clothes and to the right of the bed, a desk could be seen laden with files, books and other miscellany. Compared with the rest of the flat, which was fairly tidy, the mess in the bedroom was surprising. Olivier emptied the last of the bottle into his glass and downed it in one. In a few minutes, Jeanne would come and lie next to him on the bed. She would snuggle up to him like a pussycat. He would wrap his arm around her shoulders, plant a kiss on her neck, smell the scent of her hair … In all likelihood this was going to happen, but even so he could not bring himself to believe it. He had run over this scene so many times in his head that he could not conceive of it happening in real life. He felt utterly unprepared and clumsy, just like the first time they made love, in the cabin. He had no idea what he would say to her, or how to do it without saying anything.

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