Chapter 30 Chapter Thirty

Early the next morning, although the clouds were thick, the air was fresh.The rain and yesterday's humidity are gone.As time passed, a crack appeared in the cloud layer, and the sun shone on the earth. "Chiaroscuro," said Thierry Pinault, following Garmache, who was walking.Leaves and twigs were scattered across the village green and in the front gardens of homes, but no large trees were brought down by last night's storm. "what?" "The sky." Pinault pointed to the sky, "the contrast between darkness and light." Gamache laughed. They walked together in silence.As they were going, they saw Ruth leave the house, close the little door, and limp along the beaten path to the bench.She ran her hands over the wet wood, then sat down and stared into the distance.

"Poor Ruth," said Pinault, "sits on a bench all day long feeding the birds." "Poor bird." Both Garmache and Pinault laughed.They saw Brian come out of the B&B.He waved to the Chief Justice, nodded again to Garmash, and sat down beside Ruth across the green. "Does he have a will?" asked Garmash, "or is he just attracted to things that hurt?" "Neither. He was attracted to things that had healing powers." "Then he's a good fit here," said the Inspector, looking around the village. "You like it here, don't you?" Thierry asked, observing the big man beside him.

"yes." The two stopped and watched Brian and Ruth sit side by side, apparently lost in their own world. "You must be very proud of him," said Garmash. "It's unbelievable that a boy from such a background could turn his back on the good." "I'm happy for him," Thierry corrected, "but not proud. It shouldn't be me who is proud of him." "You are a little humble, sir. It is estimated that not every leader has such success." "His leader?" Thierry asked back, "I am not his leader." "And what are you?" Garmash asked, trying not to show his surprise.He looked from the Chief Justice to the pierced young man on the bench.

"He is my leader." "What?" Garmash couldn't believe his ears. "Brian is my leader. He's been sober for eight years, and I've only been two." Garmache looked at the elegant Thierry Pinault, in gray flannel trousers and light cashmere sweater, at the boy with the crew-shaven hair on the bench. "I know what you're thinking, Inspector. That's right. Bryan put up with me quite well. When he's out in public with me, his friend's reaction pains him. I'm in a suit, tie, and It's everything. It's embarrassing," Pinault said with a smile.

"It's not exactly what I thought it would be," Garmash said, "but it's close." "You don't really think I'm his leader, do you?" "Of course I think so," said Garmache, "isn't it—" "There's no one else?" Thierry asked. "There were many. But I chose Brian for many reasons. I'm grateful that he agreed to lead me. He saved my life." "In that case, I am also grateful to him," said Garmash, "I apologize to you." "Is this a kind of compensation, Inspector?" Thierry asked with a smile.

"yes." "Then I accept." They continue their walk.It was worse than Garmash imagined.He wondered who the leader of the Chief Justice would be.It should be someone from AA, there is no doubt about it.Is another alcoholic who has enormous influence and is able to influence an already very influential person.But Garmash never thought that Thierry Pinault would choose a crew cut as his leader. He must have been drunk then. "I know I might have crossed the line—" "Then don't do it, Inspector." "But this is no ordinary occasion. You are an important person."

"Brian isn't it?" "Of course he was. But he was also a criminal, a young man with a drug and alcohol history who ran over and killed a little girl while driving drunk." "How much do you know about this case?" "I know he admitted it, I heard him share it, I know he went to jail for it." They walked quietly around the village green, and as the sun rose, yesterday's rain evaporated into mist.It was still early, and hardly anyone got up.Just the two men in the mist walking in circles around the tall pines, and Ruth and Brian sitting on the bench.

"The little girl he ran over was my granddaughter." Garmash stopped in his tracks: "Your granddaughter?" Thierry also paused and nodded. "Amy was 4 years old. If she was alive, she would be 12 now. Brian spent 5 years in prison for this. The day he came out of prison, he came to our house and apologized. Of course we didn't take it and let him go. But he kept coming back and mowing my daughter's lawn and washing their car. My daughter was having a decadent life at the time. I was drinking too much and couldn't help. But Bryan Started helping out with all sorts of things. He came in once a week, did some chores, helped my daughter, and helped us. He never spoke and left when he was done."

Thierry started walking again, and Garmache caught up with him. "One day, about a year later, he started telling me about his drinking. Why he drank and how he felt. Those were exactly how I felt. Of course I didn't admit it, didn't want to admit that I had a relationship with this horrible guy. Nothing in common. But Brian understood. Then one day, he told me we were going for a drive. He took me to my first AA meeting." They returned to the bench. "He saved my life. I would gladly trade my life for Emmy's. I know Brian would too. A few months into my sobriety, he came to me again and asked for my forgiveness."

Thierry stopped on the road. "I forgive him." "Clara, no, please." Peter stood in the bedroom, wearing only pajama bottoms.Clara looked at him.There was no place in that beautiful body that she had not touched, caressed. Now she is still in love.His body is not a problem, his mind is not a problem.The problem was in his heart. "You have to go," she said. "But why? I'm already doing my best, really." "I know, Peter. But we need some time apart. We both have to figure out what's important. I know I need to figure it out. Maybe it will make us appreciate what we have."

"But I've cherished it," Peter pleaded.He looked around in horror.The thought of leaving home frightened him.Get out of this room, this home.Leave friends, village, Clara. Take that road, over the mountains, and out of Sansong Township. Where are you going?What better place than here? "Oh no, no, no," he moaned. But he knew that if Clara wanted to do this, he had to go.have to leave. "Just one year," Clara said. "You mean what you say?" he asked, his bright eyes fixed on her.He was afraid that in the blink of an eye, she would change her mind. "It will be until today next year," Clara said. "I'll be home," said Peter. "I'll be waiting for you. We'll have a BBQ party, just the two of us. Steak, baby asparagus, and fresh baguette sticks from Sarah's Bakery." "I'll bring a bottle of claret," he said. "We're not inviting Ruth." "None of us are invited," Clara agreed. "Just the two of us." "Just the two of us," she said. So Peter Morrow dressed and packed his suitcase. Through the bedroom window, Jean-Guy Beauvoir watched the inspector walk slowly towards their car.He knew he had to hurry up and couldn't keep Tan Tan waiting for long.But there was one more thing he had to do first. It was something he knew he would eventually do. After getting up, he took a pill first, and then had breakfast.Jean-Guy Beauvoir knew it was today. Peter threw the suitcase into the car.Clara stood beside him. Peter felt himself teetering on the edge of the truth, "There's something I have to tell you." "Haven't we talked enough?" she asked, tired.She stayed up all night last night.At 2:30 in the morning, the power was finally restored, but she was still awake.After turning off the light, she went to the bathroom and finally climbed back into bed. Watching Peter sound asleep.Watch him breathe, cheek against the pillow, long eyelashes in clusters, hands relaxed. She studied the face.That lovely body, although over 50 years old, is still beautiful. However, the time has come to let go and let it go. "No, I have to tell you something," he insisted.She looked at him, waiting. "I regret that Lillian wrote that horrible review when she was at school." "Why are you telling me this now?" Clara asked, puzzled. "It's just—I happened to be standing next to her when they were looking at your drawing, and I thought I—" "What?" Clara asked, alert. "I should have told her I thought your work was great. I mean, I told her I liked your work, but I guess I should have been more specific." Clara smiled. "Lillian is Lillian. You can't change her mind. Don't think about it." She took Peter's hand, stroked it gently, and then kissed his lips. Then she left, and went silently through the gate, along the path, and into the house. Just as the door closed, Peter remembered something. "A new hope among the modern masters," he called, staring at the closed door, sure he was just in time, she must have heard. "I memorized the comments, Clara, all the good ones. I've memorized them." But Clara was already inside, leaning against the door. She closed her eyes and fumbled for the coin from her pocket.Wafer for beginners. She clutched it tightly, and the above prayers were all printed on her palm. Beauvoir picked up the phone and started dialing.Two, three, four digits, more digits than he had hung up on before finishing dialing.Six, seven numbers. His palms were sweaty and he felt light-headed. He watched through the window as the inspector dropped the bag on the back seat of the car. Inspector Garmash closed the rear door and turned to look at Ruth and Brian. Another person appeared in his line of sight. Olivier walked slowly, as if approaching a mine.He just paused, then went on, stopping when he got to the bench next to Ruth. She didn't move, and continued to look up at the sky. "She'll sit there forever," said Peter, coming up to Garmash, "waiting for something that will never happen." Gamash turned to him, "You don't believe Rosa will come back?" "No, I don't believe it, and you won't either. False hopes never do any good." His voice was stiff. "Don't you expect a miracle to happen today?" "And you?" "I've been expecting, and I've never been disappointed. I'm going home now, to the woman I love, and she loves me. I'm doing a job that I believe in, and with a group of us Appreciative people to work with. Every morning, when I get out of bed, I feel like walking on water is impossible." Gamash stared into Peter's eyes, "As Brian said last night, sometimes drowning will be saved." At this time, Olivier sat on the bench, joined Ruth and Brian, and looked up at the sky together.He took off his blue sweater and draped it over Ruth's shoulders.The old poet did not move.After a while, she spoke. "Thank you," she said, "you idiot." Eleven digits. the phone is ringing.Almost instinctively, Beauvoir was about to hang up.His heart was beating so hard that he was sure that even if someone answered the phone, he wouldn't be able to hear it.If someone actually answered the phone, he probably fainted on the spot. "Hello?" A pleasant voice came from the phone. "Hello?" He struggled, "Annie?" Armand Garmache watched Peter Moreau drive slowly out of Three Pines along the Rue de Moulins. He turned to see Ruth standing up, staring into the distance.He heard a distant call, a familiar call. Ruth searched the sky, her veiny, bony hand clutching the blue sweater at her throat. The sunlight broke free from the tiny gaps in the clouds and sprinkled on the earth.The distressed old poet turned his face to the cry and the sunlight, and tried to look into the distance, looking for something that had not yet been seen. In her tired eyes, there was a small spot of light, flickering, flickering.