‘Rien. Nothing.’ He picked up the empty shot glass and contemplated licking out the sticky remainder.
‘So you’re gonna sit here and lie to me?’
‘I don’t want to talk about it.’
‘Yeah, that’s the story of our family, right? Do anything but talk.’
Jacques put the glass down and took a breath. His brother was right about that. Completely right. And what was he doing downing festive shots and avoiding reality? That was the behaviour of someone who was not in control of their emotions at all, someone who let other people’s actions affect their judgement and standards. He wasn’t weak like that.
‘You like her, right? You asked her on a date.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Yet now you can’t be in the same room as her without bitching about the noise her laptop makes? I mean, jeez, Erin’s phone goes off 24/7 with that crazy Balkan guy blowing it up, and I’ve realised commenting on that only gets me yelled at.’
Had Jacques been rude about Orla’s laptop? He remembered being annoyed that she seemed to be using the computer as a prop to establish zero communication between them since he’d rather childishly left her for the shower. She’d been gone whenhe got out, everything of her gone, the bed made, like what had happened between them hadn’t happened at all.
‘Listen, bro, I know it’s hard but Orla’s not Katie, OK? I can see that, even from the short amount of time I’ve spent with her.’ He took a breath. ‘Orla’s a thinker. She’s deep, you know. She cares about things. I mean, some of the things Erin’s told me, it’s like Orla’s been her mother really.’
Jacques nodded. He had expected as much. Orla was the strong backbone of her family. The person they looked to in times of crisis. It was literally her love for her sister that had sent her hurtling from his bed and outside. He couldn’t criticise that. But he also sensed her issues with connection were much more deep-rooted than that. She had started to open up to him and he thought they had acknowledged their feelings.
‘My therapist says that you have to be able to separate your feelings about things from your reactions about things,’ Tommy said. ‘So just because something makes you feel a certain way you shouldn’t lettheiractions becomeyouractions.’
They were wise words. But his alternative was usually to shut everything down, lock it up and not make any response or reaction at all. That was why Katie had left. It wasn’t his reaction or response to her feelings it was hislackof reaction and response.
‘It’s never too late, you know. Like, never,’ Tommy said. ‘Well, you know, death could kinda get in the way of things but apart from that…’
Death. Immediately he was thrown back to Delphine’s cancer diagnosis. He had said he was going to respect her wishes but maybe he should explore her options without her knowing for the time being…
‘You OK?’ Tommy asked. ‘Or are those shots getting to you?’
‘I’m good.’
Another lie.
‘So you’re still not gonna talk about Orla? Even to me?’
‘I don’t know what to say.’
‘Anything. It doesn’t have to be that deep, just something.’
Now it sounded like Tommy was an actual therapist. Although not the kind he had seen. The ones provided by the police seemed only interested in making sure his brain wasn’t so fucked up he couldn’t get back to work.
‘She writes about things she’s passionate about,’ Jacques said. ‘But it’s always other people’s stories. She doesn’t think she is special.’
He swallowed after he said the last sentence. That felt a lot.
Tommy put a hand on his shoulder then. ‘Good job, bro. That’s a start.’
46
JACQUES’S HOME, OUTSKIRTS OF SAINT-CHAMBÉRY
‘Hunter, sit. Hunter, beg. No,beg. Good boy.’
Orla was only half-looking at the dog-training Erin was attempting to do in Jacques’s lounge. She was also only half-looking at the laptop screen in front of her where some of the photos she had taken since she had been here were displayed amid the inadequate words.
‘He’s getting better at taking the treats without trying to maul my whole hand,’ Erin remarked as Hunter licked her palm.
