An Open Secret

Начало книги

“Why here of all places?” asks Mati.

“It’s the only small town I know.”

“Is that why you’ve come back?”

“And to see you all.”

“So what’s it going to be? A film?” enquires Mati again.

“Or a book. Not sure yet,” I reply.

Don Ángel’s third call to table spares me from giving any further details:

“Dinner’s ready che! I know you’ve got some catching up to do but do it later.”

“Fefe I look at you and I swear I can’t believe you’re really here,” blurts Guido, who’s so far said next to nothing. “How many years has it been?”

I’m slow to answer because I’m hauling myself up from the sofa, whose springs my body has recognised with consummate ease, as I eye the souvenirs of trips to Europe and the Middle East that the current occupants of the house have never made, and rediscover the roughness of the old tiles under my feet — the furniture, the ornaments, the floors of the house that used to belong to my grandparents until their lifelong neighbours, the Tuttolomondos, bought it from them. “I’m back in Malihuel,” I say to myself in mild amazement. “Back in Malihuel.”

Читать дальше →