Читать книгу Ventoux онлайн

37 страница из 86

I said nothing.

‘Exactly. Your father used to say to us that what you knew was power, and he was quite right. And who you know is even more power.’

‘And now?’

‘Now it’s finished. My name has been in the paper, I’m tainted. All I can do is descend to regular trade, and I don’t want to do that. That would make it vulgar. Anyway, I don’t need to anymore. Actually I was glad I had to draw a line.’

‘What are going to do, then?’

‘Maybe something with vintage cars. Old Peugeots and Citroëns. I’ve got four of them in a shed outside of town. I tinker about a bit. Sit in them. You can smell the past in cars, did you know that? I’ve got a 1968 DS that I swear you can smell our nursery school in.’

‘Yum yum.’

‘And I read books about medieval poetry and philosophy. I go to auctions of incunabula. Do you know what they are? Do you remember, the library of the Walburgiskerk, with those books on chains? We went once a year with the class. I thought it was fascinating even then.’

‘André, bullshit. You were always tugging at those chains. You drove those people nuts.’