The Panda Theory by Pascal Garnier Read Free Book Online

hotel. How about you?’
    ‘I wasn’t hungry. I watched TV.’
    ‘Watch anything good?’
    ‘I don’t know. I can’t remember. I went and slept in the children’s bedroom. I can’t sleep in our room any more.’
    ‘Any news from the hospital?’
    ‘No. I’ll call later. It’s good that you’re here. I have to speak to Marie’s mother, Françoise. Would you look after the kids while I talk to her?’
    ‘Of course.’
    ‘She’s a good woman, Françoise. And brave. She lost her husband just before Marie was born. She’s always managed by herself.’
    Françoise stood on her doorstep flanked by the two children. Had they been replaced by weapons then she would have made a magnificent war memorial: a Grandmother Courage draped in a charcoal-grey shawl, her chin raised high, her wiry hair tamed in a tight bun and her steely eyes challenging the futility of the human condition. How long had they been standing there in front of the door? The children timidly returned José’s wave ashe parked the car in front of the gate.
    Everything here was strangely symmetrical. Identical squares of lawn lay either side of the gravelled driveway next to identical fruit trees and identical hydrangea bushes, which grew in front of identical grey-green stone walls. You could have folded the scene in half along a vertical line starting at the point of the roof and everything on the left would have corresponded exactly with everything on the right, square of lawn on square of lawn, tree on tree, hydrangea bush on hydrangea bush, brother on sister, half of the grandmother on the other half. The grandmother now opened her hands and released the children, who ran over and wrapped themselves round their father’s legs. Gabriel followed behind, smiling at the scene – the daddy bear playing with his cubs.
    ‘All right now, kids, careful!’
    ‘Papa, Papa! Presents!’
    Gaël, a stocky little creature with curly black hair, took after his father, while Maria, with her blonde hair, pale skin and her grandmother’s bright blue eyes, had obviously inherited her looks from the maternal side. They were handsome children, clean and fresh and full of life.
    ‘Presents! Presents!’
    ‘Say hello to my friend Gabriel first.’
    The two children went over to Gabriel and planted sugary kisses on his cheeks before falling on the presents.
    ‘Françoise, this is my friend Gabriel.’
    A firm but welcoming handshake. She had instantly assessed her son-in-law’s friend. She seemed satisfied.
    ‘Your garden is beautiful,’ Gabriel said.
    ‘It never looks its best at this time of year. It’s just work, that’s all. It grows all the time, especially the weeds. Come in.’
    Despite her slightly brusque response, Françoise didn’t mean to be unfriendly. Order and discipline were what kept her going. It was the only thing she had found to support her through a life punctuated by hurt and suffering. She wore her resignation as a retired soldier wears his medals. A brave, worthy woman, she didn’t ask anything of anybody.
    Roast chicken, mashed potato and an apple tart. A simple and filling meal. Throughout lunch, José did his best to appear cheerful in front of the children, but each time one of them mentioned their mother his fork trembled in his hand, and his eyes, red through lack of sleep, would appeal to Françoise and Gabriel for help.
    ‘Okay, children. I have to speak to your grandmother. Gabriel, if you wouldn’t mind …’
     
    It was ages since he had spent time with children. He had forgotten how to speak to them. He felt awkward and clumsy, oversized … Like poor old Gulliver.
    ‘Can you show us how to play the saxophone?’
    ‘I think you have to blow into it and press the keys.’
    Gabriel took a deep breath and blew into the saxophone, but only managed a sound like breaking wind, which sent the children into fits of giggles.
    ‘You farted! You farted!’
    They all had a go on the instrument. Gaël blew with all his might,