Free Apocalypse Baby by Virginie Despentes Page B

will trade information, but Antonella has no problem about sources, she only wants cash. I asked her to get hold of the contents of all the computers in the apartment, she’s got a sidekick who’s good at that. Her own interest is that it allows her to peep around. You never know, she might pick up some interesting titbit of information, just by chance…’
    â€˜How did she manage to get into his apartment so easily?’
    â€˜All artists like to give interviews to the press.’
    You can’t miss her when she does turn up: she’s wearing enormous fuchsia-pink après-ski boots. I suppose they must be the in thing, something which never ceases to surprise me. Without apologizing for being late, she throws a largeenvelope into the Hyena’s bag. She has an attractive husky voice which doesn’t fit her look of an ethereal slut.
    â€˜Wow, he comes on strong, your client. Still at his age, they’re all more or less nymphomaniac.’
    â€˜Don’t fish for compliments, Antonella, you know you just knock them out.’
    â€˜Ah, don’t talk about the past. How are you?’
    She hasn’t said hello to me, not even a glance. Humiliating but I’m starting to get used to it. It’s like when you’re a teenager and you go out with the school prom queen, after a while being in the shadows is restful. We all start walking towards the park gates and the Hyena asks, ‘Do you know the stuff he writes?’
    â€˜Domestic dramas among the bourgeoisie. Catholic, right-wing, but in a traditional way, not aggressive or racist or antisemitic. So nobody much is interested in him. He’d do better to write a blockbuster about the camps, if he wants to be taken seriously, that would make a change…’
    â€˜Is he successful?’
    â€˜Not so much now. He still has a bit of a profile. A little TV, state radio, does a few signing sessions in bookshops. He publishes a lot of articles here and there, wherever they’ll let him, he’s the right age and CV to get on the jury for literary prizes, and I couldn’t quite see why he’s so isolated. He’s not very aggressive, that always reduces your credibility. Publishers have fallen into the habit of looking after him, I’ve been told he gets an advance of fifteen thousand per book. He doesn’t sell more than five thousand. So you can see why he writes a lot.’
    â€˜He’ll be disappointed when he sees there’s no article.’
    â€˜No, it’s OK, I really was asked to put together a file for a book by this journalist on
The Times
who discovers every year that French culture doesn’t have any international influence any more. Big deal, eh? I’ll pick up on this one malicious and well-aimed remark he made about Sollers and his importance, and that’ll do the trick. He’ll be cross at having chatted to me for a couple of hours, making eyes at me all the time, and finding I’ve only included that one little jab, but basically he’ll be glad he’s quoted at all. If it wasn’t for you, he wouldn’t even get that.’
    Antonella is flirting outrageously with the Hyena. I wonder whether they’ve slept together.
    â€˜Did he mention his daughter at all?’
    â€˜No. His father, yes, his mother a bit, his daughter not at all.’
    â€˜Protecting his privacy?’
    â€˜Men his age don’t often talk about their children. They are their parents’ children, but nobody’s parents. Unless there’s some drama, children aren’t very good subjects for novels, at least for men. If his kid were to die, then yes, there might be a novel in it… then again, a father’s grief isn’t bestseller material. But if she comes back home now and slags him off for being an old fusspot, what’s he going to do? He prefers to think of something else.’

CLAIRE
    WHEN CLAIRE LETS HERSELF SLIDE BACK IN THE bath, plunging