Read Online The Patrick Melrose Novels: Never Mind, Bad News, Some Hope, and Mother's Milk by Edward St. Aubyn - Free Book Online

returned the offer. They drank another and chatted about the grape harvest while Anne, who could only understand a little of his midi accent, regretted even more that she was not allowed to drive.

    By the time they got back to the car, the cognac and tranquillizers had come into their own and Eleanor felt her blood tumbling like ball bearings through the veins under her numbed skin. Her head was as heavy as a sack of coins and she closed her eyes slowly, slowly, completely in control.

    ‘Hey,’ said Anne, ‘wake up.’

    ‘I am awake,’ said Eleanor grumpily and then more serenely, ‘I’m awake.’ Her eyes remained closed.

    ‘Please let me drive.’ Anne was ready to argue the point.

    ‘Sure,’ said Eleanor. She opened her eyes, which suddenly seemed intensely blue against the pinkish tinge of frayed blood vessels. ‘I trust you.’

    Eleanor slept for about half an hour while Anne drove up and down the twisting roads from Signes to Marseilles.

    When Eleanor woke up, she was lucid again and said, ‘Goodness that stew was awfully rich, I did feel a little weighed down after lunch.’ The high from the Dexedrine was back; like the theme from The Valkyrie , it could not be kept down for long, even if it took a more muted and disguised form than before.

    ‘What’s Le Wild Ouest?’ said Anne. ‘I keep passing pictures of cowboys with arrows through their hats.’

    ‘Oh, we must go, we must go,’ said Eleanor in a childish voice. ‘It’s a funfair but the whole thing is made to look like Dodge City. I’ve never actually been in, but I’d really like to—’

    ‘Have we got time?’ asked Anne sceptically.

    ‘Oh, yes, it’s only one-thirty, look, and the airport is only forty-five minutes away. Oh, let’s. Just for half an hour. Pl-ea-se?’

    Another billboard announced Le Wild Ouest at four hundred metres. Soaring above the tops of the dark pine trees were miniature imitation stagecoaches in brightly coloured plastic hanging from a stationary Ferris wheel.

    ‘This can’t be for real,’ said Anne. ‘Isn’t it fantastic? We have to go in.’

    They walked through the giant saloon doors of Le Wild Ouest. On either side, the flags of many nations drooped on a circle of white poles.

    ‘Gosh, it’s exciting,’ said Eleanor. It was hard for her to decide which of the wonderful rides to take first. In the end she chose to go on the stagecoach Ferris wheel. ‘I want a yellow one,’ she said.

    The wheel edged forward as each stagecoach was filled. Eventually, theirs rose above the level of the highest pines.

    ‘Look! There’s our car,’ squealed Eleanor.

    ‘Does Patrick like this place?’ asked Anne.

    ‘He’s never been,’ said Eleanor.

    ‘You’d better take him soon, or he’ll be too old. People grow out of this sort of thing, you know.’ Anne smiled.

    Eleanor looked massively gloomy for a moment. The wheel started to turn, generating a little breeze. On the upward curve, Eleanor felt her stomach tighten. Instead of giving her a better view of the funfair and the surrounding woods, the motion of the wheel made her feel sick and she stared grimly at the white tips of her knuckles, longing for the ride to be over.

    Anne saw that Eleanor’s mood had snapped and that she was again in the company of an older, richer, drunker woman.

    They got off the ride, and walked through a street of shooting arcades. ‘Let’s get out of this fucking place,’ said Eleanor. ‘It’s time to collect Nicholas anyhow.’

    ‘So tell me about Nicholas,’ said Anne, trying to keep up.

    ‘Oh, you’ll find out soon enough.’

     

    6

    ‘ SO THIS ELEANOR WOMAN is a real victim, right?’ said Bridget. She had fallen asleep after smoking a joint in the loo and she wanted to compensate with a burst of belated curiosity.

    ‘Is every woman who chooses to live with a difficult man a victim?’

    Nicholas undid his seatbelt as soon as the plane landed. They were in the second row and could