‘People will eat anything if they are hungry enough. You should know that. You have travelled.’
‘OK, that might be true but… this one is pregnant! No one eats apregnantreindeer!’ Now was the time, before he came back with another ludicrous suggestion. ‘What happened when you spoke to Delphine?’
‘Nothing happened,’ Jacques answered. ‘I asked her about the foot rot and she told me she was too busy to talk to me. There were many people in her store going crazy for discounted cookies.’
He was talking quickly. He didn’t do that. It was one of the many things she had noticed about him. He took his time. He considered. He didn’t ramble or embellish for the sake of it.
‘Why are you lying to me?’
‘What?’
‘Something is going on with you. I can see it.’
She didn’t take her eyes from him, watched her words land and waited to see what they would do. But instead of doing what she had expected him to do – more small talk about Delphine’s shop, perhaps denial that he was being anything other than normal – he did neither of those things. He said nothing.Didnothing. There was a glazed expression on his face now, a blankness in his eyes. It was like he wasn’t even there any more. What did she do with that?
‘Jacques,’ she said tentatively.
No reply.
‘Jacques,’ she said, louder.
Then, he took a gasp of breath, almost like he’d been drowning. Colour was back in his face, eyes alert, but his hands were shaking. She didn’t know what to say but when he met her gaze, looking at her with a good deal of confusion, she knew she had to say something.
‘OK, we need to show this reindeer who’s boss. Let’s go. Come on.’
She leaned into the reindeer a little, a firm nudge with her body and a tug with the rope, trying to make out she was very much used to handling caribou on the regular. ‘Come on,’ she said again.
‘Allez!’ Jacques added, pushing from the rear.
Surprisingly, the reindeer decided now might be the time to comply and it retracted its stubbornness, along with its hooves, and finally made its way into the trailer.
‘It won’t jump out, will it?’ Orla asked, as Jacques began tying the rope through the trailer and then to the back of his truck.
‘If it tries,’ he answered. ‘It will hurt itself.’
‘I know!’ Orla exclaimed. ‘That’s what I’m worried about.’
He did some kind of magic with knots and then looked at her. ‘You care about this animal already? Is it not just a story to you?’
She couldn’t tell whether he was really asking because he wanted to know her answer or whether he was suggesting she wrote without feeling. Well, shehadtold him this article was important for hits and website views.
‘I don’t write about anything I don’t care about,’ she stated firmly. ‘And you should know that… if you’ve read my article about Oymyakon.’
There. What was he going to say to that? Her words seemed to hang in the cold air between them, along with their visible breath.
‘We should take the reindeer home,’ Jacques said.
‘Agreed,’ Orla said.
‘Right.’
‘OK.’
She didn’t wait for him to offer another nothing response before she turned away from the trailer and headed for the door of the truck.
34
JACQUES’S HOME, OUTSKIRTS OF SAINT-CHAMBÉRY
