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Back The Martins Save as PDF
Contents (99)
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  93. EPILOGUE
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‘You don’t have to let this sink you. You’ve had a brilliant career. I’m sure you can find another job. You have plenty of transferable skills …’

‘It’s obvious you don’t live in the real world. I have debts to pay off, I have to send my kids to university, I have to help my parents. And there are always bills that need paying.’

‘…’

‘Can you tell me why all kids have crooked teeth and why they all need expensive dental work? None of that existed when we were young.’

‘Yeah, but look at our teeth,’ I said, trying to lighten the mood.

‘Do you even understand what I’m saying? I feel so much pressure. It’s suffocating me. So, yeah, it’s easy to say I could just change my life. Maybe in your world I could, but not in mine.’

‘I’m just saying you could try to be a bit positive. You shouldn’t just forget everything you’ve achieved.’

‘Yeah … I suppose you’re right,’ he admitted, as the waiter brought him his Îie flottante: a meringue island floating in a sea of vanilla custard.

He stared at his dessert for a moment without speaking, but I could see a spark of joy light up his eyes. Yes, that floating island had illuminated something inside him for the first time since we had begun talking. You know things are bad when your only consolation comes in the form of pudding. He looked as lost as a child, no longer fully capable of making adult decisions. I felt for this man, whom I had judged too quickly. He was all at sea professionally, and of course that had spilled over into his married life. Valérie had spoken so harshly about him. Had she meant what she said? I found myself wanting to vaunt Patrick’s qualities to his wife, to plead mitigating circumstances, but was that my role? I was there to write a book, not to become a sort of mediator. But by meddling like this in a family’s life, I had ended up at the intersection of all its problems. I had a panoramic view of the situation. I could hear all the false notes in their dissonant orchestra.

True, their marriage was in crisis. But let’s be honest, who isn’t in crisis? Life is a series of crises, whether individual (adolescence, midlife, existential) or collective (financial, moral, epidemiological). And that’s without even mentioning the bodily manifestations (liver, nerves, etc.). In the western world, crisis has become an all-purpose slogan. Essentially, it comes down to the absolute loneliness of each individual. I often think about the famous quotation by Albert Cohen: ‘Every man is alone and no one gives a damn about anyone and our sorrows are a desert island.’ Let us at least hope that it is a floating island.

  1. 12. He was calling me tu by this point; we had left the more formal vous behind just before the arrival of the aubergines au gratin.

40

Yet again, I had to be careful not to get too involved. I wasn’t there to give my opinion, but to write about these people’s lives. I had to keep him talking, even if it made him feel worse.