Inès Bayard

This Little Family


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      This

       Little

       Family

      Inès Bayard

       translated from the French by Adriana Hunter

       Copyright

      4th Estate

      An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers

      1 London Bridge Street

      London SE1 9GF

       www.4thEstate.co.uk

      This eBook first published in Great Britain by 4th Estate in 2020

      First published in the United States by Other Press in 2020

      Originally published in French as Le malheur du bas in 2018 by Éditions Albin Michel, Paris

      Copyright © Éditions Albin Michel, 2018

      English translation copyright © Other Press, 2020

      Cover image © Peter Chadwick / Trevillion Images

      Inès Bayard asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

      This book is supported by the Institut français (Royaume-Uni) as part of the Burgess programme

Institute francais Royaume-Uni Logo

      A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

      This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

      All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins

      Source ISBN: 9780008332884

      Ebook Edition © April 2020 ISBN: 9780008332907

      Version: 2020-04-20

       Dedication

      To

      Geneviève Combas Boteilla

       Epigraph

      You cannot live in a frenzy for very long. In a world which promised so much and delivered nothing, the tension was too great.

      — GEORGES PEREC, THINGS

      Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

      Copyright

      Dedication

      Epigraph

      Little Thomas didn’t have time to …

      As on every Monday, Marie will …

       Marie has never been particularly …

       I don’t know how but I knew it. …

       Marie’s mother always greets them …

       Marie wishes she would never …

       Feeling whitish liquid trickling …

       We were really scared, you know …

       Thomas is celebrating his two-month …

       The baby is in terrible pain. He …

       On the last Saturday before Marie …

       Marie likes dropping off her son …

       Marie doesn’t want to pick little …

       You need to step on the gas, …

       Laurent has been gone two days. …

       Dear Laurent, …

       The shrill bell on the intercom …

       Marie is rested. She goes to pick …

       The child-care worker eyes her …

       This Tuesday morning Mathilde …

       Relations between Marie and Laurent …

       Marie’s nerves are sorely tested …

       Laurent is in a deep sleep. Marie …

       Mathilde has stopped making …

       Two weeks off work. That’s what …

       I found this in the mailbox. What …

       Marie acknowledges that it’s never …

       Roxane does not intend to leave …

       Hey look, Thomas, Daddy came …

       Paul doesn’t understand: “A test? …

       It’s Marie’s father’s birthday and …

       Marie finds the nights go on forever …

       She’ll never go back to the bank. …

       The osso buco needs to simmer …

       Today seemed to go on forever. As he closes …

       About the Author

       About the Publisher

       Chapter Ornament

      Little Thomas didn’t have time to finish his stewed apple. His mother hadn’t given him the slightest chance. The speed with which the poison circulated through his blood simply meant he didn’t suffer when he died. Only Marie’s body was still upright, securely wedged against the back of her chair, her head tipped back. She must have struggled to ensure this was noticed. Laurent had been served first. Few people stumbling across these three ashen bodies could have imagined the warm