September Song (2012)
“I walked a little further and stood in among the cracked concrete bristling with stinging nettles, dandelions and dusty convolvulus of one bomb-site and looked across at another, the one where my parents’ house had stood. I thought of Mama, Papa and Grand-père for a moment or two. I’d been in France when they died, drinking vin baptisé in sufficient quantities to be very drunk, celebrating the liberation of Paris, and I hadn’t seen them in nearly two years. Like so many others, we’d never had t...he chance to say goodbye. I’d thought that the pain of missing them would have dimmed after eleven years. It hadn’t. But then neither had the memories. It seemed that in order to keep the one, I had to keep the other.
Having paid my respects, I retraced my steps back to Vic’s.
I was sweating slightly, but the harsh, nose-wrinkling smells of the lotions and powders Vic applied to hair, faces and necks would mask any odours emanating from me.
Vic was a sour, dapper, little man whose accounts I’d look over for him, to make sure they would make sense to Her Majesty’s Inspector of Taxes.MoreLess
Having paid my respects, I retraced my steps back to Vic’s.
I was sweating slightly, but the harsh, nose-wrinkling smells of the lotions and powders Vic applied to hair, faces and necks would mask any odours emanating from me.
Vic was a sour, dapper, little man whose accounts I’d look over for him, to make sure they would make sense to Her Majesty’s Inspector of Taxes.MoreLess
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