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Kindle Notes & Highlights
‘Not much of an art enthusiast, are you?’ She laughs softly. ‘Art should not be flat, or dead, like this,’ she says. ‘It should be sung.’
Whisky has always tasted like introspection to me, a quiet moment after taking a sip, the lingering aftertaste, inviting you to ponder upon the flavours on your tongue.
We drink. The wine is rich, brawny, with traces of peach and honeysuckle. With it comes a strange feeling, a mixture of nostalgia and the first flush of fresh infatuation. In a mirror somewhere, my old self must be smiling.
She kisses me. For a moment, I try to figure out what her ice cream tastes like. Then I’m lost in the sensation of her lips, her tongue flicking against mine. She passes me a flirtatious co-memory, the kiss from her perspective, a reversal of viewpoints.
‘I know this much,’ Bathilde says. ‘When I speak to Paul, he reminds me of someone I knew a long time ago, someone who gave me a little bit of a heartbreak.’ She laughs. ‘I gave as well as I got, to be sure.’
‘I never explain my plans before they are fully hatched. It’s a creative process. The criminal is a creative artist; detectives are just critics.’
Kissing Mieli’s body is like finally kissing that old friend you have always had sexual tension with. Except the kiss is nothing like I imagined: there is a ferocity and strength to it that takes my breath away.
It has been a long time. So at first, everything is a hot fast blur of flesh and skin and mouths and touches and bites. She is much stronger than me, and not afraid to show it.
‘It’s not going to work. Us,’ he says, and pauses for a moment. She says nothing. ‘I’ve been with you because you are different,’ he says. ‘I couldn’t read you. I couldn’t understand you. It was fun for a while. But it was never going to be any different. ‘And I never put you first. You were always just … the other thing. The distracting voice in my head. And I don’t want to think of you like that. You deserve better.’
I saw why you are doing this. For what it’s worth, I hope you find her.’ ‘It’s not a matter of hope,’ Mieli says, ‘but will.’
