Read Online Hector and the Secrets of Love by Francois Lelord - Free Book Online
Authors: Francois Lelord
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without even mentioning all your amazing qualities.
You’ll think I’m blowing hot and cold, that I don’t know what I want, and no doubt there’s some truth in that. We’ve known each other for a long time and we’ve already had our ups and downs. There was a time when I wanted us to get married, but I remember you being the one who wasn’t very keen on starting a family. By saying this to you I feel you will fret and blame yourself for having let the moment pass. Don’t torture yourself – that’s life – we don’t choose our feelings and we can’t blame ourselves or others for them.
You are still the most important person in my life, even though I can’t see us being together any more. It’s dreadful – each time I say this I feel as if I am punishing you, and yet we’ve always been honest with one another.
Take care, keep safe, and tell yourself that whatever happens you are still my Hector.
Love and kisses.
Hector finished his vodka amaretto and waited for the pretty waitress in the sarong to bring him the next one. It was growing dark beside the pool and he wondered how he was going to fill his time while avoiding thinking about Clara. He was trying to do exactly that when he recognised a few melancholy notes in the background music coming from the bar; it was a song he had listened to with Clara, and which just then he was terrified of hearing:
I no longer love you, my darling, I no longer love you till the end of time.
I no longer love you, my darling, I no longer love you till the end of time.
And those sweet strains began to break Hector’s heart.
Just then, Jean-Marcel turned up, not looking very happy either. He sat down without paying any attention to the song and explained that he had just spoken to his wife on the phone.
‘Do you think two people who have loved each other can stop loving each other?’ he asked Hector.
Hector said he feared it was possible, yes. And he thought about Professor Cormorant’s drugs. Was there one that allowed people to go on loving each other for as long as they wanted?
‘I have a feeling it’s over between me and my wife,’ said Jean-Marcel, ‘and yet we used to be so happy together.’
They ordered a bottle of white wine because cocktails are a bit sickly after a while.
Jean-Marcel and Hector began comparing notes on women, which is always a good way for men to become friends quickly.
‘They never know what they want.’
‘And they’re never happy.’
‘As soon as we’re nice to them, they make us pay.’
‘The worst thing is their friends’ advice.’
‘They always want to control us, and once they’ve succeeded they lose interest.’
Finally, after the second bottle, they decided to go out on the town and ordered a tuk-tuk, which is a local type of rickshaw, except that instead of a bicycle it is a scooter pulling two fat white people while a less fat less white person drives.
It was quite pleasant driving through the night air after the heat of the day. The streets were fairly quiet, with just a few cars and some dogs, although you could see several bars lit up and some massage parlours with flashing neon signs. Apparently, the people in that town needed round to the temples. But Hector remembered what the hotel manager had said and he realised they weren’t only giving ordinary massages.
Finally the tuk-tuk dropped them at a bar where a few young Western men were drinking and chatting with some young women who were unmistakably Asian.
Two of the women immediately came over to talk to them. They wanted Hector and Jean-Marcel to buy them a drink, and in return they seemed willing to keep repeating how handsome they were and trying to find out the name of their hotel. They smiled, showing all their pretty teeth, but in their eyes Hector glimpsed less happy things. Younger brothers and sisters who needed food. A drug dealer who was owed money. Medicines that had to be paid for.
Hector and Jean-Marcel looked at one
You’ll think I’m blowing hot and cold, that I don’t know what I want, and no doubt there’s some truth in that. We’ve known each other for a long time and we’ve already had our ups and downs. There was a time when I wanted us to get married, but I remember you being the one who wasn’t very keen on starting a family. By saying this to you I feel you will fret and blame yourself for having let the moment pass. Don’t torture yourself – that’s life – we don’t choose our feelings and we can’t blame ourselves or others for them.
You are still the most important person in my life, even though I can’t see us being together any more. It’s dreadful – each time I say this I feel as if I am punishing you, and yet we’ve always been honest with one another.
Take care, keep safe, and tell yourself that whatever happens you are still my Hector.
Love and kisses.
Hector finished his vodka amaretto and waited for the pretty waitress in the sarong to bring him the next one. It was growing dark beside the pool and he wondered how he was going to fill his time while avoiding thinking about Clara. He was trying to do exactly that when he recognised a few melancholy notes in the background music coming from the bar; it was a song he had listened to with Clara, and which just then he was terrified of hearing:
I no longer love you, my darling, I no longer love you till the end of time.
I no longer love you, my darling, I no longer love you till the end of time.
And those sweet strains began to break Hector’s heart.
Just then, Jean-Marcel turned up, not looking very happy either. He sat down without paying any attention to the song and explained that he had just spoken to his wife on the phone.
‘Do you think two people who have loved each other can stop loving each other?’ he asked Hector.
Hector said he feared it was possible, yes. And he thought about Professor Cormorant’s drugs. Was there one that allowed people to go on loving each other for as long as they wanted?
‘I have a feeling it’s over between me and my wife,’ said Jean-Marcel, ‘and yet we used to be so happy together.’
They ordered a bottle of white wine because cocktails are a bit sickly after a while.
Jean-Marcel and Hector began comparing notes on women, which is always a good way for men to become friends quickly.
‘They never know what they want.’
‘And they’re never happy.’
‘As soon as we’re nice to them, they make us pay.’
‘The worst thing is their friends’ advice.’
‘They always want to control us, and once they’ve succeeded they lose interest.’
Finally, after the second bottle, they decided to go out on the town and ordered a tuk-tuk, which is a local type of rickshaw, except that instead of a bicycle it is a scooter pulling two fat white people while a less fat less white person drives.
It was quite pleasant driving through the night air after the heat of the day. The streets were fairly quiet, with just a few cars and some dogs, although you could see several bars lit up and some massage parlours with flashing neon signs. Apparently, the people in that town needed round to the temples. But Hector remembered what the hotel manager had said and he realised they weren’t only giving ordinary massages.
Finally the tuk-tuk dropped them at a bar where a few young Western men were drinking and chatting with some young women who were unmistakably Asian.
Two of the women immediately came over to talk to them. They wanted Hector and Jean-Marcel to buy them a drink, and in return they seemed willing to keep repeating how handsome they were and trying to find out the name of their hotel. They smiled, showing all their pretty teeth, but in their eyes Hector glimpsed less happy things. Younger brothers and sisters who needed food. A drug dealer who was owed money. Medicines that had to be paid for.
Hector and Jean-Marcel looked at one
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