“What if they don’t believe me?”
“Why wouldn’t they? It’s the truth, no?”
Nora was staring straight ahead, lost in the appalling prospect of giving herself up to the police. Being interrogated. Revealing her crime to her children. Facing the consequences of her act, even if none of it had been intentional. She was seized with fear, engulfed in horror, unable to see the slightest glimmer of light at the end of the dark tunnel that seemed to have swallowed her up.
“Nora!” said Mathilde urgently. She sensed her friend spiraling into despair. “If you don’t, it’ll only be worse. They’ll find out eventually. One way or another. And when they do, you’ll have no way out.”
“Unless I get rid of the body,” Nora whispered.
“Stop!” Mathilde stared at Nora in shock. She had no idea how to get Nora to see reason. She was fully aware of the gravity of the situation, and terrified her friend was about to make a dreadful mistake that she would spend the rest of her life regretting.
“Nora, I beg you. Don’t do that. Don’t even think about it. Only the truth will save you.”
“I’ll just have to make it look like an accident,” Nora went on, apparently unaware Mathilde had spoken. “Itwasan accident!” she cried, as if she were trying to rouse her friend. She was trembling. She turned slowly to look at Mathilde.
There was an ocean of despair in her eyes. She began speaking very rapidly, as if trying to articulate the thread of her thoughts, but the words weren’t coming out quickly enough.
“An accident that had nothing to do with me! We can put him in the car and push it over a cliff...But there aren’t any cliffs around here...What about the shopping mall, behind the hardware store? There’s a new building going up. I was there just yesterday. They’ve dug a massive hole and there’s only a barrier in front of it. We could put Gérard in the car, drive up there, sit him behind the steering wheel, and push the car into the hole.”
“That’s insane.”
“No, it’s simple. I’ll block the brake with something, I don’t know, a rock or something, turn on the engine, and when it starts to rev I’ll shove the rock out of the way with a stick, an umbrella, I read something like this in a novel, it shouldn’t be very hard...”
Mathilde groaned, aghast. “We’re not in a novel,” she said, horrified by her inability to get Nora to see reason. “That would never work!”
“Yes! It could work! But I’ll need your help. I beg you, Mathilde, don’t let me down.”
Mathilde stared at her friend in consternation, alarmed by her distress. Myriad thoughts were rattling around inside her head; she had to figure out a way to bring Nora back down to earth.
“Think of the children,” she begged, drawing on all her powers of persuasion.
The mention of the children seemed to achieve her objective: Nora shivered and seemed at last to come to her senses.
“They’re all alone at Gérard’s house,” she exclaimed, appalled. “I have to go and fetch them. Pass me your phone.”
Disconcerted by this precipitous change of tone, Mathilde hesitated.
“My phone? Why?”
“I need to call them, reassure them. Tell them I’m here. That I’m on my way over.”
“Why would you do that? You’re not meant to know they’re on their own.”
“Pass me your phone,” Nora repeated coldly.
Mathilde was overcome by misgivings. She knew the situation was beyond her control and she wouldn’t be able to prevent whatever it was from happening. Her mind was confused, she couldn’t think straight anymore. Feeling panicky and helpless, she reached into her purse, took out her phone, and handed it to Nora, who grabbed it and dialed Gérard’s landline. It rang three times before Inès answered. At the sound of her daughter’s voice, her heart contracted.
“Hello, sweetheart, it’s Maman.”
Her voice sounded as if it came from beyond the grave.
Inès greeted her mother warmly. She told her all was well, her father wasn’t home yet but they were with Mélanie. In the background Nora could hear the secretary asking who was on the line. Inès told her.
“Can I speak to her?” Nora heard Mélanie’s voice distinctly; she must have moved closer to Inès so she could take the call.
Inès told her mother she was passing her to Mélanie, said she was looking forward to seeing her on Sunday, told her she loved her, and handed over the phone.
“Madame Dep—um...Madame Amrani?”
