Moon in a Dead Eye by Pascal Garnier Page B

doesn’t matter! … You don’t have to have a reason to laugh.’
    ‘OK, here’s one for you. Here we all are, thinking we’re among friends, you know, people we can trust, and the minute your back’s turned, someone goes and tells all sorts of stories about you, stories that could land you in a whole heap of trouble, and then that person ever so quietly sneaks back in as though nothing ever happened. How’s that for a joke, huh?’
    Wedged into his chair, white-knuckled hands clutching the wheels, elbows sticking out and shoulders raised, Maxime looked like a disabled athlete poised to start a race. Marlène turned stiffly towards him, as though swivelling on a pivot.
    ‘What on earth are you talking about, Maxime?’
    ‘I’m telling it like it is. There’s no way I’m going to sit here laughing with someone who goes blabbing behind my back, when they weren’t even there!’
    Nadine was beginning to wonder if that cake had been such a good idea. She was getting the most awful vibes off this man. Nothing for it but to take the snail approach and curl up withinherself, praying for her guardian angel to come and rectify this casting error and take her safely home.
    Marlène pressed on.
    ‘What do you mean, Maxime? Who’s saying what about whom?’
    ‘No need to spell it out, she knows exactly who she is! If there’s anyone here who needs to explain themselves, it’s her.’
    With the exception of Nadine, who had just closed her eyes, the women looked questioningly at each other until Léa began shaking her head with a sigh.
    ‘Fine, I get it! If it’s me you’re talking about, Maxime, there’s really no need for all this fuss. I was on my way out the night before last when Monsieur Flesh stopped me to give me the same rubbish about the gypsies he had spouted to Marlène. I told him it was stupid of him to scare people with stories like that and, thanks to him, there had almost been a very serious accident. I didn’t say a word against you. That’s all there is to it.’
    ‘And how did you know what happened that day, when you weren’t there?’
    ‘Because Odette told me!’
    ‘Oh, that’s just great, isn’t it? Just great. So now everybody’s in on it! Thanks, Odette, thanks a lot!’
    Odette looked as though she had been slapped round the face with a wet fish. For a few seconds, a heavy silence hung in the air, before everyone began talking over each other.
    ‘Well, excuse me!’
    ‘Odette, please …’
    ‘Maxime, say you’re sorry!’
    ‘Stop it! This is ridiculous. It’s all down to that idiot caretaker …’
    ‘I wasn’t talking to you …’
    ‘Anyway, my son Régis is a lawyer, so …’
    ‘No one said anything about pressing charges!’
    ‘Mind your manners! Martial, say something!’
    ‘But even if you did, Régis …’
    ‘Marlène, will you stop banging on about Régis! He’s dead, for Christ’s sake! Dead! Can’t you get that into your head?’
    The conversation too was cut dead. It was like a henhouse after the fox has left, a few stray feathers left swirling in the air. Marlène had gone pale. Standing in the middle of the room with her hands clamped over her stomach, she seemed to be teetering on the edge of an abyss. Then she loosened up, took a deep breath and fluffed up her hair. She was smiling.
    ‘Don’t be silly, Régis isn’t dead. He’s absolutely fine. In fact, he sent me a tape yesterday of a piano piece he composed himself. He’s a brilliant musician … I’ll go and get it.’
    She calmly crossed the room without catching anyone’s eye, opened the door and disappeared into the blinding daylight outside.
    Léa turned back to Maxime. ‘I can’t make out if you’re a total bastard or just thick as shit.’
    ‘Shut your mouth, you filthy dyke! Stop sticking your damned oar in!’
    Suddenly he sprang out of his wheelchair and ran after his wife.
    Odette was gobsmacked. ‘He can walk?’
    Nadine was the only one still sitting down. Of course, the