Read Online Beside the Sea by Veronique Olmi - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Veronique Olmi
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couldn’t hear a thing, he looked worried, I threw the sheets back and got up. I left the room, the door banged hard against the bed, I ran to the bathroom and I stuck my head under the cold tap, to save myself. It was freezing. It hurt. It got inside my skull, I was being pulled by my hair, pulled towards the ceiling, my whole back was trapped in the ice, I was in pain, real pain, the explainable, logical sort, I was in brilliant white light, I was nowhere, in fact. I’d stopped falling. I got up. I woke up. I was breathing heavily from fighting the cold water, I’d made up my mind to win, to suffer for as long as possible, it felt terrible and wonderful at the same time, looking the enemy in the face at last, knowing exactly what’s hurting, and emerging dazed, breathless, worn out. I was whimpering, the struggle was almost over, I was a solid mass of pain, it was coming to an end. I turned off the water. My hair hung down around my face, viscous little black threads. I stood up, then bent double as my spine gave way and the room reeled around me. When I opened my eyes I saw that both my kids were watching me.
Kevin threw himself at me, his head against my stomach and his arms round my waist, he tried to squeeze but he’s got so little strength I could hardly feel him. Stan didn’t say anything. How long was it since I’d taken Stan in my arms? I couldn’t say. I’m taking you to the fair, I said. My voice was wrong, I didn’t want to say it like that, in a whisper, I’d like to have said it all loud and happy, the kids didn’t react. I took a deep breath and tried to shout, I’m taking you to the fair! but it came out faded and tired… the boys didn’t move. Mind you, I’d have sworn they’d have followed me to the ends of the earth, but I realized the three of us didn’t need to talk to each other any more. We could do things. Anything. The weirdest, craziest things. But without talking. We followed each other instinctively. We were sure of ourselves, like animals who never question, who just know what you should do and what you shouldn’t.
We went back to the room and got ready. They got ready, choosing sweaters for the fair, trousers for the fair and even socks. No one would see them, it was too dark, but they felt smart. The evening was beginning. I just dried my hair a bit but the towel was very damp… anyway, what with the rain… drenched outside, drenched inside, what was the difference? They did their hair looking at themselves in the window, You can see yourself in the dark! said Kevin, Yeah! Stan said in a gangstervoice, better watch out, Kevin, you’re twice as strong in the dark! I made the bed so that it would be warm when we got back, I went through the motions, the same ones we go through at home. We put our wet jackets back on, nothing seemed to dry them, they weren’t waterproofs, they were sponges, just putting them on was like going out into the cold.
The stairs prepared us for being outside, too, and for being seen. But there was no one there. On each floor we thought we might come across someone, be surprised, be their neighbour, but not a soul, not a trace, nothing. I do think I heard a noise on the fourth floor. Something falling, breaking. That was all. Six floors of brown, of fire exits, banisters, silence and, downstairs, the smell of sausages. Still no one in the foyer.
The rain had eased up outside, floating in little wafts, the air was wet, there wasn’t really anything coming out of the sky, not properly, it was like the clouds had come down to earth and were dying of boredom. The ground was soaking, puddles all over the place, we slipped on tyre tracks and other people’s footprints as if we were all trampling on each other, never in sync, no one actually being the first to put their feet in any one place.
The boys took my hands and at almost exactly the same time the street lights came on: we were royalty. I thought about the bus coming again andpeople getting
Kevin threw himself at me, his head against my stomach and his arms round my waist, he tried to squeeze but he’s got so little strength I could hardly feel him. Stan didn’t say anything. How long was it since I’d taken Stan in my arms? I couldn’t say. I’m taking you to the fair, I said. My voice was wrong, I didn’t want to say it like that, in a whisper, I’d like to have said it all loud and happy, the kids didn’t react. I took a deep breath and tried to shout, I’m taking you to the fair! but it came out faded and tired… the boys didn’t move. Mind you, I’d have sworn they’d have followed me to the ends of the earth, but I realized the three of us didn’t need to talk to each other any more. We could do things. Anything. The weirdest, craziest things. But without talking. We followed each other instinctively. We were sure of ourselves, like animals who never question, who just know what you should do and what you shouldn’t.
We went back to the room and got ready. They got ready, choosing sweaters for the fair, trousers for the fair and even socks. No one would see them, it was too dark, but they felt smart. The evening was beginning. I just dried my hair a bit but the towel was very damp… anyway, what with the rain… drenched outside, drenched inside, what was the difference? They did their hair looking at themselves in the window, You can see yourself in the dark! said Kevin, Yeah! Stan said in a gangstervoice, better watch out, Kevin, you’re twice as strong in the dark! I made the bed so that it would be warm when we got back, I went through the motions, the same ones we go through at home. We put our wet jackets back on, nothing seemed to dry them, they weren’t waterproofs, they were sponges, just putting them on was like going out into the cold.
The stairs prepared us for being outside, too, and for being seen. But there was no one there. On each floor we thought we might come across someone, be surprised, be their neighbour, but not a soul, not a trace, nothing. I do think I heard a noise on the fourth floor. Something falling, breaking. That was all. Six floors of brown, of fire exits, banisters, silence and, downstairs, the smell of sausages. Still no one in the foyer.
The rain had eased up outside, floating in little wafts, the air was wet, there wasn’t really anything coming out of the sky, not properly, it was like the clouds had come down to earth and were dying of boredom. The ground was soaking, puddles all over the place, we slipped on tyre tracks and other people’s footprints as if we were all trampling on each other, never in sync, no one actually being the first to put their feet in any one place.
The boys took my hands and at almost exactly the same time the street lights came on: we were royalty. I thought about the bus coming again andpeople getting
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