Yasmina Khadra - The Angels Die

‘How is he?’ Irène asked urgently.

‘For the moment, he’s asleep. Go home, there’s no point waiting here.’

‘Is it serious?’

‘It’s too soon to give a diagnosis. In my opinion, it may have been a major attack of anxiety. That sometimes happens to those who are paralysed, but it looks more serious than it is. Rest assured he’s in good hands. I’m taking personal charge of him. Come back tomorrow and I’ll be able to tell you more.’

He gave us an encouraging smile and apologised that he had to leave us.

The drive back to the farm was extremely uncomfortable. Irène had chosen to sit in the back seat, a sign that she was still angry with me. I found it hard to drive, looking both at the road and into the rear-view mirror. Irène was stubbornly turned to the window, staring out into the darkness. Her profile stood out in the gloom, sulking but beautiful, her features finely chiselled, bare but regal. She was even more gorgeous now that her anger had dissolved into thoughtfulness.

When we reached the farm, she got out of the car without even looking at me. I grabbed her by the wrist just as she was getting ready to go up to her room.

‘Please,’ she moaned, ‘I want to sleep.’

I drew her to me; she resisted and tried to pull away; I forced her to turn towards me and she pushed me away without success, twisted, bit my hand; I wouldn’t let go, crushed her to me; she let out little cries of rage, tried to scratch my face, drummed her fists on my chest for a long time, continued to struggle, silently but intensely, then, exhausted, abandoned herself to her sobs. I lifted her chin. Her tear-streaked face glistened as much as her eyes. I kissed her on the mouth. She turned her head away. I kissed her again, forcing her; her teeth closed on my lips; I felt the blood seeping onto my tongue. Suddenly, she wrapped her arms around my neck and started kissing me with almost savage passion. Freed of our sorrows, we gave ourselves up body and soul to the joys of our reunion. We were together again, made for each other, restored to each other. We lay down on the floor and made love as never before.

Towards midday, we lunched briefly in the kitchen, reconciled. The looks we exchanged didn’t need an interpreter. Words would have been absurd, even out of place should they have misrepresented what our silence excelled in expressing. There are moments of grace when saying nothing allows you to accede fully to the quintessence of the senses. The heart then entrusts the eyes with its deepest secrets. With the truth laid bare, there is nothing to be said, or else everything will disappear. We were serene because we knew that our relationship would finally know happier days.

Irène wanted to go with me to the hospital. I told her I had urgent matters to settle in town and promised that I would be back to pick her up later.

The Duke opened his arms wide. He was in shirtsleeves behind his desk, his hairy shoulders sloping above his chest. Seeing me open the door, he leapt up and almost ran to hug me. I didn’t respond to his embrace. He moved back to look at me and his ardour cooled immediately.

‘What’s the matter? You look strange.’

‘Haven’t you been told?’

‘About what?’

‘About my decision.’

‘What decision?’

I came straight out with it. ‘I’m giving up boxing.’

He froze for a moment, astounded, then threw his head back and laughed heartily. ‘Oh, you really had me there … You joker, you really had me going for a minute.’

‘I’m serious, Monsieur Bollocq.’

The coolness of my tone completely extinguished his enthusiasm. His face became so tense that the lines on his forehead looked as if they were about to crack. ‘What’s this all about? Have the blows to your head driven you crazy or what?’

‘Maybe.’

With a movement of his hand, the Duke swept away the files heaped up on his desk, kicked a chair, then took his head in his hands to calm himself down. He stayed like that for several seconds, with his back to me, trying to get his thoughts in order. When he turned back, there was nothing human about his flushed face. He was shaking all over, his nostrils were dilated, and his eyes were popping out of their sockets. He started by putting his finger on my chest, then took it away and looked around, his breathing uncontrolled.

‘I’m dreaming,’ he grunted. ‘It isn’t possible.’

Suddenly, he grabbed me by the throat, but he was too short to hold on. He went back behind his desk and gazed out at the plane tree in the courtyard.

‘Ginooo!’ he screamed.

An alarmed secretary appeared. He sent her to fetch Gino from the second floor. Gino came running. I heard him come up the stairs four steps at a time. He was surprised to see me there, but the Duke didn’t give him time to recover his composure.

‘Can you explain to me what’s got into your friend here?’

Gino swallowed.

‘Did you know about his decision?’

‘Yes, Monsieur.’

‘Since when?’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Why didn’t you say anything?’

‘I thought I could reason with him.’

‘Apparently, you haven’t been very convincing.’

‘To be honest, we haven’t had the opportunity to talk about it with a clear head.’

‘It’s your head that’s on the line, boy,’ the Duke roared, charging at Gino. ‘If this stupid fake brother of yours doesn’t apologise to me right now, I don’t rate your chances of survival.’

‘It’s an unfortunate misunderstanding, Monsieur. It’ll all be sorted out, I promise.’

But I was resolute. ‘I’ve made up my mind,’ I said. ‘Neither Gino nor anyone will get me to change it.’

The Duke again rushed at me, his speech agitated. ‘I don’t think you realise the risk you’re taking, you little fool. I’m not a boxer and I don’t follow any rules when I cross swords with an opponent. Do you follow me? I don’t know if you have a brain or motor oil in that head of yours, but if I were you, I’d be careful, very careful.’ Registering that his threat didn’t scare me, he assumed a less abrupt tone. ‘Do you mind telling me what hasn’t worked out between us? We’ve been with you every step of the way. So why this about-turn? If it’s a question of money, let’s put our cards on the table. Everything’s negotiable, champ.’

‘I’m really sorry, Monsieur Bollocq. It isn’t a question of money and I have no gripes with anybody. You’re been terrific, all of you. I haven’t disappointed you. We’re quits.’

‘Not so fast, knucklehead. I’m trying to launch your career internationally and you bring it back to me like a dog bringing back the stick his master threw for him.’

‘I’m not a dog.’

‘That remains to be seen … What can’t be denied is that I’m the master here. All you have, you owe to me. I’ve spent a fortune getting an uneducated Arab street kid without a future onto the top podiums. I told you a long time ago, you’re nothing but an investment, a business proposition that’s cost me a lot of money, massive negotiations, and partnerships with people who made me queasy. For your sake, I’ve been forced to grease palms, bribe journalists, forgive people who’ve betrayed me and make my peace with nobodies. And now you come here, bold as brass, to tell me you’re pulling out, and you think you’re within your rights?’

He turned to Gino.

‘Take this native of yours and get out of here. When you come back to see me, I want you both to apologise, on your knees and in tears. Otherwise, I’ll come looking for you and I’ll make you rue the day your paths crossed … Now clear off!’

Gino took me straight to his office. He was in a total panic.