Five Quarters of the Orange / Пять четвертинок апельсина

“Then tell me what it was like,” said Laure, taking a step forward. “I’d consult you on everything. We’ve got the chance of a wonderful, exclusive insight here, and I know it will make a fabulous book…”

“What book?” I said stupidly.

Laure looked impatient.

“What do you mean, what book? I thought you’d guessed. You said…”

I felt my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth. With difficulty I said,

“I thought you were after the recipe book. After what you told me-”

She shook her head impatiently.

“No, I need it to research my book. You read my pamphlet, didn’t you? You must have known I was interested in the case. And when Cassis told us she was actually related to us. Yannick’s grandmother-” She broke off again to grasp at my hand. Her fingers were long and cool, her nails painted shell-pink like her lips. “Mamie, you’re the last of her children. Cassis dead, Reine-Claude useless…”

“You went to see her?” I said blankly.

Laure nodded.

“She doesn’t remember anything. A complete vegetable.” Her mouth was wry. “Plus no one in Les Laveuses remembers anything worth mentioning-or if they do, they won’t talk-”