Rather than carrying on talking, Franck told them he would call back tomorrow. Tomorrow he would let them know what day he was planning to come back to Paris. They would get their meeting, and he would sign. He said goodbye to them without anger or bitterness, but this time something inside him had snapped. Two minutes after hanging up, he realised he couldn’t work with the two young fathers who were continually making digs, saying he knew nothing about the world today because he didn’t have children, implying that they were the future because they were young, they were modern, they were parents. Deep down, he had always been aware of a gulf, a divide between himself and the world of those with children. He had a gnawing sense of guilt about it, as if not reproducing were a disgrace, a form of sabotage. He and Lise hadn’t had children. It was a long story, but they hadn’t been able to – it was too many stories in fact; they didn’t have to justify themselves. But as he sat in a café far away from everything, the last cutting words rammed home all his failures and disappointments, as if a lifetime’s bad luck and disillusionment had suddenly caught up with him.

Franck looked at the phone in front of him. He was already annoyed with himself for not reacting, for not having come up with a suitable retort for Travis, or Liem – after all, he didn’t even know for certain which one had said it. Yet there was nothing he could have said. In life there are things like this that you just have to take, truths that people tactlessly throw in your face to weaken or break you, but that are nonetheless true. He ordered another double espresso and the waiter brought it straight away. He drank it down in one go, without sugar, causing his heart to pound and great beads of sweat to form. For some reason, he had a vision of the dog yesterday evening, when he had taken off after the hare at full speed, as if he were listening to him. He really should start thinking of the huge, loyal dog as an ally – a real ally, unlike his partners. A faithful ally who would stand by him and maybe even help him come up with a plan, some kind of revenge involving a trap, turning the two hunters into sweet prey.

Part III

PART III

August 2017

August 2017

Coming out of the café, Franck was startled by the light, surprised to find himself in Limogne. He had had six coffees without realising it and spent almost an hour with the phone pressed against his ear – the right-hand side of his face was still warm. As the conversation had gone on, his anger had gradually welled up and reached a climax at the final jibe.