Joanne Harris - Five Quarters of the Orange

“But you were watching,” insisted Luc. “You must have seen…” He caught me grinning and his eyes narrowed. “Oh, I understand,” he said unpleasantly. “This is what it’s all about, is it? Thought you could get your pet gendarme to intimidate me, could you?” He glared at Louis.

“If this is really the best you can do between you-” he pinched his nostrils shut to stop the bleeding.

“I don’t think there’s any call to go casting aspersions,” said Louis stolidly.

“Oh, you don’t?” snapped Luc. “When my lawyer sees-”

Louis interrupted him. “It’s natural you should be upset. The wind blowing over your café like that. I can understand you didn’t know what you were doing.”

Luc stared at him in disbelief.

“Terrible night last night,” said Paul kindly. “First of the October storms. I’m sure you’ll be able to claim on the insurance.”

“Of course it was bound to happen,” I said. “A high-sided vehicle like that by the side of a road. I’m only surprised it didn’t happen earlier.”

Luc nodded. “I see,” he said softly. “Not bad, Framboise. Not bad at all. I see you’ve been hard at work.” His tone was almost coaxing. “But even without the wagon, you know there’s a lot more I can do. A lot more we can do.” He tried a grin, then winced and dabbed at his nose again. “You might as well give them what they want,” he continued in the same almost seductive tone. “ Hé, Mamie . What do you say?”

I’m not sure what I would have answered. Looking at him I felt old. I’d expected him to give in, but he looked less beaten at that moment than he’d ever been, his sharp face expectant. I’d given it my best shot- our best shot, Paul and I-and even so Luc seemed invincible. Like children trying to dam a river. We’d had our moment of triumph-that look on his face, almost worth it just for that-but in the end, however brave the effort, the river always wins. Louis had spent his childhood by the side of the Loire too, I told myself. He must have known. All he had done was get himself into trouble too. I imagined an army of lawyers, advisors, city police-our names in the papers, our secret business revealed… I felt tired. So tired.

Then I saw Paul’s face. He was smiling that slow sweet smile of his, looking almost half witted but for the lazy amusement in his eyes. He yanked his beret down over his forehead in a gesture that was somehow final and comic and heroic at the same time, like the world’s oldest knight pulling down his visor for a last tilt at the enemy. I felt a sudden crazy urge to laugh.

“I think we can…ah…sort it out,” Paul said. “Maybe Louis here got carried away a little. All the Ramondins were a little…ah…quick to take offense. It’s in the blood.” He smiled apologetically, then turned to address Louis. “There was that business with Guilherm…who was he, your grandmother’s brother?” Dessanges listened in growing irritation and contempt.

“Father’s,” corrected Louis.

Paul nodded. “Aye. Hot blood, the Ramondins. All of ‘em.” He was lapsing into dialect again-one of the things Mother always held most against him, that and his stutter-and his accent was thicker than I ever remember it back in the old days. “I remember how they led the rabble that night against the farmhouse-old Guilherm at front with his wooden leg-and all for that business at La Mauvaise Réputation -seems it’s kept that bad reputation all this time-”

Luc shrugged his shoulders. “Look, I’d love to hear today’s selection of Quaint Country Tales from Long Ago. But what I’d really like-”

“‘Twas a young man started it all,” continued Paul inexorably. “Not unlike yourself, I’d say he was. A man from the city, hein , from the foreign…who thought he could wrap the poor stupid Loire people round his finger.”

He gave me a quick look, as if checking an emotional barometer somewhere in my face. “Came to a bad end, though. Didn’t he?”

“The worst,” I said thickly. “The very worst.”

Luc was watching us both, his eyes wary. “Oh?” he said.

I nodded. “ He liked young girls too,” I said in a voice that sounded dim and distant to my own ears. “Played them along. Used them to find out things. They’d call that corruption nowadays.”

“Course in those days most of those girls didn’t have fathers,” said Paul blandly. “‘Cause of the war.”

I saw Luc’s eyes kindle with understanding. He gave a small nod, as if marking a point. “This is something to do with last night, is it?” he said.

I ignored the question. “You are married, aren’t you?” I asked.

He nodded again.

“Pity if your wife had to be involved in all this,” I went on. “Corruption of minors…nasty business…I don’t see how she could avoid getting involved.”

“You’ll never get that one to stick,” said Luc quickly. “The girl wouldn’t-”

“The girl is my daughter,” said Louis simply. “She would do-say-whatever she felt was right.”

Again, the nod. He was cool enough, I’ll give him that.

“Fine,” he said at last. He even managed a little smile. “Fine. I get the message.” He was relaxed in spite of everything; his pallor came from anger rather than fear. He looked at me directly, an ironic twist at his mouth.

“I hope the victory was worth it, Mamie ,” he said with emphasis. “Because come tomorrow you’re going to need every bit of comfort you can get. Come tomorrow your sad little secret is going to be splashed across every magazine, every newspaper in the country. Just time for a couple of phone calls before I move on… After all it really has been such a dull party, and if our friend here thinks his little bitch of a daughter even began to make it worthwhile-” He broke off to grin viciously, at Louis and gaped as the policeman’s handcuffs snapped sharply over first one wrist, then the other.

“ What? ” He sounded incredulous, close to laughter. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing now? Adding abduction to the list? Where do you think this is? The Wild fucking West?”

Louis gave him his stolid look.

“It’s my duty to warn you, sir,” he said, “that violent and abusive behavior cannot be tolerated, and that it is my duty-”

“ What? ” Luc’s voice rose almost to a scream. “ What behavior? You’re the one who hit me! You can’t-”

Louis looked at him with polite reproach. “I have reason to believe, sir, that given your erratic behavior you may be under the influence of alcohol, or some other intoxicating substance, and that for your own safety I feel it my duty to keep you under supervision until that time-”

“You’re arresting me?” demanded Luc, disbelieving. “You’re charging me?”

“Not unless I’m obliged to, sir,” said Louis reproachfully. “But I’m sure these two witnesses here will testify to abusive, threatening behavior, violent language, disorderly conduct-” He gave a nod in my direction. “I’ll have to ask you to accompany me to the station, sir.”

“ There is no fucking station !” screamed Luc.

“Louis uses the basement of his house for drunk and disorderlies,” said Paul quietly. “Course, we haven’t had one for a while, not since Guguste Tinon went on that bender five years ago-”

“But I have a root cellar that is entirely at your disposal, Louis, if you think there’s a danger he might pass out on his way into the village,” I suggested blandly. “There’s a good strong lock on it, and no way he could do himself any harm…”