Free The Peculiar Life of a Lonely Postman by Denis Thériault Page B

point-blank was unthinkable, especially in front of the others. How could he find out, he wondered, without compromising himself, or running the risk the clerk might somehow take advantage of the situation? And, should it be necessary, how could he get the letter back without being forced to eat humble pie and apologise to him, or even worse, depending on how foul his mood was? Bilodo absently chewed his shepherd’s pie, hoping Robert would clarify things himself by coming over and naming the amount of the ransom, but it didn’t happen: there was nothing in the clerk’s attitude that led one to believe he might have any other intention towards Bilodo than to hate him until the end of time.
    After lunch, as he stepped out of the men’s toilets, he almost collided with Tania, who stood right there, beside the door, waiting for him. Beaming, the young woman said she wanted to thank him. For the poem, of course. And Bilodo saw she had a sheet of paper in her hand. The tanka!
    Her eyes moist with happiness, Tania explained how pleasantly surprised she’d been to find the poem on the counter, along with the bill and the money owing. She confessed she was deeply touched by it, and modestly lowered her gaze beforeadding with a blush that she felt the same way. Bilodo, dumbfounded, finally understood: she thought the tanka was for her, that he’d written it for her as promised, and that… This was so horrific it took his breath away. He couldn’t string two coherent words together, and even less shatter Tania’s illusions; all he could manage was an inane smile. The young woman, who must have put his confusion down to shyness, was tactful enough to drop the subject, and merely looked at him one last time with shining eyes before going back to work.
    Bilodo breathed again. The situation hadn’t only overtaken him – it now had a one-lap lead. No need to look too far for the perpetrator of this vile plot: down at the other end of the restaurant, Robert’s fiendish smile was explanation enough. How the son of a bitch gloated over his revenge! Bilodo grabbed his jacket and slipped out, but not without answering Tania’s little wave full of thrilling hidden meanings. Enraged, he went to wait for Robert near his van.
    The clerk showed up ten minutes later. Still sporting that jubilant grin that was his odious speciality, Robert asked when the wedding would be. Bilodo bristled with anger as he reproached him for deceitfully involving Tania in a disagreement that concerned only them. Robert sardonically assured him he’d just wanted to make Tania happy, although he’d never understood why she was so crazy about a stupid bastard like him. Stupid, yes, Bilodo agreed he really must be pretty dense for not having noticed sooner what a filthy pig Robert was. The clerk snapped back that was still better than being a moronic asshole and warned Bilodo he had seen nothing yet, from now on it was open war between them. Following which he took off like a shot.
    Because Bilodo knew from having seen Robert in action how implacable he could be when he wanted to, he spent the rest of the day worrying about the various forms, each one more harrowing than the next, his threats were likely to take. Withrespect to Tania in any case, one thing was certain: no matter how disappointing this might be for her, he had to tell her the truth.
    * * *
    Robert’s threats didn’t take long to materialize. When Bilodo arrived at the Depot the next day, he spotted with utter dismay on the staff lounge notice board a photocopy of his tanka carrying his forged signature; it had been printed on pink paper for greater visual impact. Other copies had been distributed all through the centre, particularly in the sorting cubicles, from which peals of laughter rang out. The whole world seemed to have read his poem. It was the joke of the day: anyone running into Bilodo put in their two cents’ worth with some little allusion to love, to flowers, or to horticulture in